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By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent...

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent Independence Day warning about “dimaagi Naxals” should therefore not be dismissed as another political label. His larger point was that an insurgency does not survive on ammunition alone. It survives on ideas and people willing to make violence appear morally fashionable. The most revealing feature of India’s Maoist movement was never simply its brutality. It was the strange attraction it exercised over sections of the metropolitan Left elite. The Naxalite with an AK-47 could be transformed into a romantic revolutionary while the policeman he killed became an instrument of an oppressive state. This was not merely naïveté. At its ugliest, it was the intellectual laundering of political violence. The fantasy of the romantic revolutionary has always been seductive. In this narrative, amplified through sympathetic media priding itself on telling ‘truth to power,’ India was not a constitutional democracy struggling with inequality and corruption but an inherently illegitimate state waiting to be overthrown. In the minds of this elite Left, Maoist violence has often been recast as resistance while attacks on infrastructure as blows against capitalism. The armed overthrow of the Indian republic was the liberation they craved for. Some of India’s most celebrated intellectuals have flirted dangerously close to that moral inversion. The issue here is whether intellectual prestige can be used to sanitise an ideology whose practitioners have murdered civilians, policemen and public servants and terrorised some of India’s poorest districts. A university cannot be the place where Maoist romanticism acquires the legitimacy of a fashionable campus cause. Professors who turn armed insurgents into heroic revolutionaries are not merely exercising academic freedom. If they knowingly excuse violence, they are helping to construct the moral vocabulary that makes violence possible. Let’s be clear here. A professor who criticises the Indian state is not a Naxal while a journalist who exposes state excesses is not an enemy of India. But an intellectual who repeatedly excuses, glorifies or rationalises political violence cannot hide behind the word ‘dissent.’ India has paid an enormous price for the Maoist fantasy. Thousands have died. Entire regions were held back by fear while development was obstructed. The people supposedly being liberated were often the first to suffer. The armed Naxal is now being pushed towards extinction. But the Indian republic cannot afford to leave behind the romantic mythology that made the gun respectable. A democracy can tolerate dissent. It should never be expected to tolerate the glorification of those who seek its violent destruction.

When Last Words Become Evidence: The Forensic Lens on Suicide Notes

A suicide note can be heartfelt truth — or deliberate fabrication. Forensic science helps tell the difference.

Every year, countless lives end in tragedy, often leaving behind a few handwritten lines or a digital message — a suicide note. These notes, though brief, carry immense emotional and investigative weight. They are not just words written in despair. They often hold vital clues about the writer’s state of mind and the reasons behind the act. And sometimes even indicate whether the death was truly a suicide or something made to look like one.


A suicide note is any written, typed, or recorded message left by a person before taking their own life. It may express remorse, assign blame, or attempt to explain the decision. While many assume these notes straightforwardly reflect the deceased’s intent, forensic experts know that appearances can be deceptive. Some notes are fabricated, dictated, or written under pressure — making forensic examination essential for truth and justice.


Forensic experts analyse suicide notes with precision, combining science, psychology, and linguistics. Every detail becomes evidence: the handwriting, the ink, the type of paper, even the choice of words. If the handwriting in the note differs from the person’s known writing patterns, it may suggest forgery or coercion. In today’s digital age, investigators also examine messages found on mobile phones, computers, and social media platforms. Digital forensics helps determine whether the person actually authored the message or if it was created or edited at a later time.


Beyond physical and digital analysis, psychologists and forensic linguists study the tone and emotional language of suicide notes. They look for indicators of depression, hopelessness, guilt, or anger. Linguistic markers such as repetition, abrupt changes in tone, or disorganised thought patterns can reflect a disturbed state of mind. Each word, phrase, and punctuation mark can help reconstruct the emotional landscape of the writer’s final moments.


The Supreme Court of India has often relied on suicide notes as crucial evidence in abetment to suicide cases. A landmark judgement in Gurcharan Singh vs State of Punjab (2020) highlighted the importance of careful interpretation. The Court held that if a suicide note specifically names an individual and there is strong evidence of mental harassment or provocation, that person may be charged under Section 306 of the Indian Penal Code for abetment to suicide.


However, if the note merely expresses sorrow or emotional distress without directly implicating anyone, it cannot be treated as proof against another person. This distinction underscores the need for a balanced approach — where emotion and evidence are weighed with equal care.


In India, several experts contribute to the forensic and psychological study of suicide notes. Among them are Dr Updesh Kumar, a leading psychologist; Dr Anil Aggrawal, a renowned professor of forensic medicine; and Dr Asha Srivastava, Dean at the School of Behavioural Forensics, National Forensic Sciences University, known for her work in forensic psychology. Their analyses often assist law enforcement and the judiciary in interpreting the scientific and emotional authenticity of suicide notes.


While forensic science plays a crucial role in uncovering the truth, society too must play its part in prevention. Suicide is not merely a legal or forensic issue—it is a profound human tragedy.


Behind every note lies a voice that felt unheard, a mind that felt trapped, and a heart that sought peace. Recognising signs of distress—such as withdrawal, hopelessness, or talk of self-harm—and offering empathy can save lives. Listening without judgement and encouraging professional help are small yet powerful steps toward prevention.


India has several organisations that offer emotional support and crisis counselling. Helplines such as AASRA (91-9820466726) and Snehi (91-9582208181) provide confidential assistance to those in distress.


In the end, the forensic study of suicide notes is not only about establishing authenticity or assigning legal responsibility; it is also about understanding the silent cry for help behind those words.


If society learns to recognise that cry earlier, many such notes would never need to be written. Every life matters, and through science, empathy, and awareness, we can ensure that despair is met with understanding—not silence.


(Dr. Kumar is a former IPS officer and forensic consultant to Assam government. Das is a student of FSU, Guwahati. Views personal.)

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