Jaipur- We live in a society where forged documents, fake land deals, and the influence of land mafias barely raise an eyebrow anymore. It feels like everyone accepts corruption as a given. Instead of addressing the real problems, we jump from one shocking story to the next, only to be distracted by WhatsApp forwards or the latest viral videos.

But a recent visit to Jaipur truly shocked me to the core. On the surface, it seemed like just another case of Dalit dispossession, but a detailed investigation revealed a much more layered and complex issue. I witnessed a systematic failure of authorities, suppressed Dalit rights, and a worrying decline in human dignity.

This is about Santra Devi, an 85-year-old Dalit. Her husband was chronically ill. They were generationally poor, daily wagers, cultivating two bighas of coarse, dehydrated land given to their family in the 1970s by the government of Rajasthan. The land was in such poor condition that rain was the only source of irrigation. Yet this patch of land served as moral and social security for the family. They had a makeshift house (hut) on the land and around 30 khejri and other trees. By selling small produce, the family was able to make ends meet.

The real trouble began in 2013, when Bhairo Lal, Santra Devi's husband, died. He was sick and weak, but his absence was deeply felt. The village heads started taunting and cursing Santra Devi. As she recalls, “I had no clue why, but these people were always using bad words and casteist slurs around me, and they used to hurl curses at my children.”

One fine morning, she gathered all her strength and confronted the Sarpanch and his goons, asking why they were tailing her. Then she got to know that it was about the land! They wanted her to evacuate the land and leave for good.

When she continuously refused to leave the land, in 2015, they burned her hut during the night. She screamed for help, but no villager came to her aid. This incident scarred her for life. At that moment, she gathered all her children and left the land.

Santra Devi left her land physically because she firmly believed the law would protect her. She went to the Kalwar police station to file an FIR, but no one registered it. She was shocked and pleaded, but to no avail; the policemen even cursed her for trying to tarnish the Sarpanch’s name.

Meanwhile, she saw constructions happening on her land—she was not aware about this part—and this development shook her to the core. She tried to complain about it, but to whom!

Santra Devi went to the Patwari to get the land mutated in her name, since the land cannot remain registered under a deceased person’s name, and she was the next of kin according to the law. In his official correspondence, the Patwari wrote that during his investigation, he observed construction on the land. Because the land was supposed to be agricultural and had not been officially transferred for commercial purposes, this use was illegal. Therefore, he concluded that mutation should not be granted, and Section 177 should be invoked against Santra Devi.

And later, the Patwari suddenly came into possession of two Ikrarnamas for two cooperative housing societies (Sirohi Grih Nirman Society and Vijayura Grih Nirman Society), claiming the land belonged to them, sold by Bhairo Lal during his lifetime. These Ikrarnamas were forged to such an extent that one had a stamp with Bhairo Lal’s signature dated 2015, although he died in 2013. One of his sons, born in September 1997, has his signature on an Ikrarnama dated April 1997—signatures of an unborn child! While some fear the age of AI, it seems the authorities in Manchwa were ahead of their time.

Sirohi's document states that at the time of the deal, the chief of the society was Subhash Meena. During my investigation, I found out that Subhash Meena was only 15 years old at the time. Can a 15-year-old, who is not even eligible for a voter ID in India, head a cooperative society? Apparently, he can!

And this is not the end. The Ikrarnamas show clear signs of overwriting and manual manipulation, but that is not the only disturbing part. The real issue is that no originals are present. The Patwari never revealed the source of the photocopies, and based on these forged photocopies, the police denied the FIR, the Patwari denied the mutation, and the Tehsildar submitted his reports to the collector’s office. But what about the Evidence Act, भारतीय साक्ष्य अधिनियम, 2023?

Under the Rajasthan Tenancy Act, 1955, land allotted to SC/ST members cannot be sold or transferred to non-SC/ST entities without prior approval from the collector. Cooperative societies are not legally allowed to purchase such land, and any sale deed made in their favor is void from the start. Even repeated resale does not correct the illegality because the original transfer itself violates Section 42 of the Act.

So the question should not be why photocopies of these visibly forged Ikrarnamas were accepted as evidence. In fact, the bigger issue is whether the authorities, who deal with such cases daily, are supposed to uphold this law for the needy and serve as a shield against such injustices, are the very ones accepting these forged photocopy documents without revealing their sources.

After several unsuccessful visits to the Patwari, Santra Devi approached the Tehsildar and even wrote to the District Collector, but no one listened to her case. They had already reached a clear verdict: commercial use of the land was illegal (which was exactly her complaint, that her land was being used against her will for commercial purposes). They refused to mutate the land in her name, as that might be illegal, yet the land remains registered under a deceased person’s name. Sounds quite legal to me!

Whenever the subject of mutation comes up, every authority reminds her that commercial use of land is illegal, but no one has bothered to inspect those “illegal shops” constructed on that disputed land; they continue to operate like any other regular business.

Forgery, brutality, and dispossession occurred in 2015, yet after many interventions, the first FIR was filed only in 2024. This opened a new Pandora's box. The shopkeepers named in the FIR started selling their shops one by one to Kedia Builders under benami deals. One shopkeeper recorded a conversation with a broker from Kedia Builders, and the tape clearly states that the FIR was used as bait to compel them to sell the shops at much lower prices and avoid the FIR’s implications.

Because of all the societal pressure around them, all her sons lost their jobs (daily wagers). When Santra Devi noticed that the shops were unclaimed and unattended, she and her family took possession of them. According to her, she rightfully claimed what belonged to her. In response to this, the police dragged Santra Devi and her family to the police station. They manhandled her daughters and hurled curses at her. The police detained them for hours, allowing the Kedia Builders’ goons to take over the shops. Within just four hours, the shops had new labels, new names, and all the materials were removed and restocked.

The police still have no explanation for why they detained her, under whose orders, and police records show no sign of her being held for 4-5 hours. Strange! A local media channel reported the incident, yet nobody asked them the right questions. Can the police really act as private muscle for a privileged few?

In another glaring incident, a section of her land, which included trees, was still mostly in Santra Devi’s possession. She used to sell the small produce from there. But one night, the builder had all her trees cut down. Since he owns commercial properties behind this patch of land, clearing and leveling it would enable better road access for those properties. Without a second thought, they destroyed her trees. For Santra Devi, those trees were her last hope, an assurance that justice might be delayed but would eventually come.

This incident enraged her. She ran to a nearby road construction site and begged a JCB operator to help dig holes so she could replant her trees. He agreed for a hefty price. They had just started digging when the police arrived again, this time detaining the JCB operator as well.

Santra Devi had only one question: where were these police when she begged for help, when they uprooted her generational trees, when they threatened her and her daughters? And the most ironic part is that the JCB operator was a Rajput, like the police personnel handling the operation. After mild requests, he was released, but his friend, an OBC, was detained for three nights just for trying to bail him out.

This case is a clear example of how the law crumbles under the feet of money when those entrusted to uphold it show little concern.

In my investigation, it was not hard to establish that forgery through these cooperative housing societies is quite common in the area. Every year, a new gang is exposed using forged seals of these societies to sell illegal pattas to anyone with money. These crimes are well documented in Jaipur, yet a photocopy is accepted as strong evidence by a powerful chain of authorities who never question it. Santra Devi has made repeated visits to the Chief Secretary, the Chief Minister, and both the State and National SC/ST Commissions; these government offices have become a pilgrimage for her, but all efforts have been fruitless. The fraud is so obvious that if the authorities made even a small effort to notice, they could not ignore it. So, what does that mean? Are they intentionally ignoring it?

I went to the Kalwar Tehsildar, who ruled against her in the mutation case. He clearly told me that he didn't want to talk about the matter. After some persuasion, one of his juniors agreed to speak. When asked why the mutation was never granted, he cited illegal commercial use. When I asked if he was aware that the alleged illegal commercial use and subsequent construction did not belong to her, he replied, “Of course, it’s not hers. This beggar-like lady can’t afford such construction, but it’s a legal loophole. She is claiming the land, so the implications are there”—apparently, only the implications, not the ownership.

To understand the matter further, I spoke with ACP Ranveer Singh, who was the investigating officer (I.O.) of the case for six months. However, he said that discussing an undertrial case could affect the investigation.

What investigation is he talking about? I am still wondering. There was the house burning to dispossess her, laws meant to protect Dalits from land mafias, and an Ikrarnama bearing the signature of an unborn child. Yet amidst all this, 23 commercial shops are flourishing, while a frail, trembling widow shivers in a tent-like makeshift shelter on Nagarpalika land!

Santra Devi’s story is not just an isolated incident; it mirrors the struggle of countless others who find their rights tangled in webs of bureaucracy, corruption, and apathy. In a country where laws exist to protect the vulnerable, stories like hers uncover how those laws often fail in practice. For Santra Devi, justice remains elusive, yet her quiet perseverance demands attention and change.

Her journey through unyielding official indifference and entrenched injustice calls for more than sympathy; it calls for accountability, transparency, and real reform. When a widow can be displaced from land meant to secure her family’s future, when forged documents prevail over truth, it’s a stark reminder that the promise of legal protection must be matched by enforcement.

As Santra Devi continues to fight for her rightful place, her story should echo through the halls of power, urging those in authority to listen, act, and ensure that the law serves not just the powerful, but the people it was designed to protect.

This is a call to reimagine justice where dignity and rights are not just words on paper, but realities lived by the most vulnerable among us.

- The author is a digital journalist who has recently stepped into independent investigative reporting. Women’s issues remain at the center of her beat.