Undertones of the Underworld
Neeraj Kumar served a distinguished and illustrious 37 years in the Indian police. A meticulous professional with unparalleled record of big busts to his credit, Kumar was arguably one of the best detective brains in the police service. His book Dial D for Don exemplifies these qualities in ample measure—it is fast-paced and an extremely readable book.
His exploits against organised gangs and criminals are the stuff of James Hadley Chase and Fredrick Forsyth rolled into one. As the chief of the Central Bureau of Investigation’s Special Task Force (STF), Kumar played a pivotal role in this premier investigation agency’s fight against organised crimes. Each of the cases narrated in the book made headlines. Dial D for Don, though positioned as a memoir, is a narrative of the major cases he handled during his long tenure with the CBI and the Delhi Police.
The book recounts the stories behind apprehensions, through intricate cross-border operations, of India’s most wanted criminals. These real-life episodes will hold the reader at razor’s edge. I particularly appreciate his gracious acknowledgment of contributions made by the team members and associates in the success of these missions and operations.
The surreptitious efforts made by the CBI under Kumar’s leadership to nab Dawood drew plenty of controversy (and much welcome air time in the electronic media). It is an interesting account and typically illustrates the way important subjects of national interest can fall through the cracks. The author deftly steers clear of any personal comments that may invite controversy on the overall national strategy to capture the Don. I have no doubt that Dawood is cocking a snook at the CBI and the intelligence agencies after reading this chapter.
The case of the ruthless gang of kidnappers, the so-called Lapka gang which preyed on foreign tourists (mainly the fair sex) and duped them of money during their visits to India, ends with a despondent note conveying the criminals really having the last laugh. According to the author, this gang remains active operating perhaps in different parts of the country, with law enforcement agencies none the wiser of their activities.
Similarly, the chapter on match fixing mentions tantalising details about the goings-on in this gentleman’s game but leaves a lot of grey areas and unanswered questions. For instance, issues relating to the extent to which malpractices are rampant in this game, the involvement of big names and their economic impact of the humungous proceeds of match-fixing are left unanswered.
While the brisk narrative makes it an easy read, there are very few glimpses of the human face of Kumar during his story-telling. Policemen are often important catalysts of social change due mainly to the nature of their responsibility that places them in close proximity to major social upheavals that occur in society. The infamous Nirbhaya case that occurred when he was the city’s Police Commissioner is one such example. Undoubtedly, this was an episode that caught the attention of the whole world where the role of the police and the subsequent investigation and management of public outcry that followed found the Commissioner and his men at the forefront of scathing media glare and judicial attention.
I searched for deeper insights into the mind of this top cop, particularly his opinion on where the police failed to address the feeling of insecurity among vulnerable segments of population and his suggestions on how the police may play a more proactive role to break the vicious cycle of distrust caused by such incidents. For readers like me who sought to glean such insights (personal and professional) from the memoirs of the supercop, the book fails to offer any insights on these contentious issues.
There is an old African proverb that loosely translates as ‘every living thing has a story to tell’. Kumar, while telling his, could not fully shrug off the cloak of political correctness: the result a readable book, though not a memorable one.