DHARMAPURI:Elangovan hadn’t reported to work on Tuesday at the Dharmapuri Government Medical College, where he works as a records clerk. He had to attend the funeral of a relative at his village, Natham Colony, eight km from Dharmapuri town. Even as he was mourning the loss of another loved one, the family came to learn of the news from Chennai that the Madras High Court closed the case, going by the CB-CID’s report that his son Ilavarasan’s death was a clear case of suicide.
They were not aware that the case was up for hearing on Tuesday. “It was supposed to be on February 17, but our lawyer told us that they (CB-CID) have sought more time to file their report,” a dejected Elangovan told Express.
Elangovan and family do not see the reasoning behind extending the case and with that their grief for years together to give this verdict. “Why wait for four years? This is what the police said even then. Why transfer it to CB-CID, which neither provided new evidence nor did any breakthrough investigation and went by the version of their counterparts in the district police?,” Elangovan asked. “That’s why we have been asking for an investigation by a Special Investigation Team (SIT), but the government never paid heed,” he added.
Elangovan, his wife Krishnaveni and the couple’s elder son, E Balaji, a clerk in the Indian Army, who is home on leave, were dejected with the HC ruling. The family vows to fight it out in the Supreme court, come what may.
Natham colony villagers have openly told the family that they wouldn’t stand by their fight as the whole village was burnt because of their son’s relationship. “We are not blaming them either. Everyone had to start from scratch again,” says Krishnaveni, Ilavarasan’s mother.
Krishnaveni had collected every magazine that had featured the picture of her son, face flat to the ground, lying dead on the railway tracks. With geometrical precision, she recreates the position she found her son’s body on July 4, 2013.
Both Krishnaveni and Elangovan are convinced that their son didn’t commit suicide. He turns almost hysterical and explains how he believes his son was killed. Krishnaveni starts crying. She smiles quickly to add, “If we say this, they call us paithiyam (mentally retarded).”
Elangovan, convincing himself that justice for his son’s death would be a long road ahead wants justice for his villagers, whose houses were burnt. “Everyone knows the PMK gained politically by inciting the riots. Why burn whole villages, when the issue was between two families. Will the government machinery work towards getting the rioters punished?” Elangovan asks.
A riot, the death of their son, numerous interview bytes and court appearances later, the family still has hopes for justice, if not immediately, in the future.