“April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desires, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”
– T.S. Eliot in the Waste Land

On April 29, 1999, Jessica Lal, a model working as a celebrity barmaid at a socialite party in New Delhi, was shot in the head just because she had refused to serve a drink to a guest after closing hours. The killer, Siddharth Vashisht, also known as Manu Sharma, who was the son of a prominent politician, Venod Sharma, intoxicated by a deadly cocktail of alcohol and a sense of entitlement, had pulled the trigger. With hundreds of the capital’s swish set present at the party, Manu (the prime suspect) and his friends looked all set to go to the gallows. But it did not quite happen that way. The question is: why?
Perhaps, it is because of the loopholes in the legal system that provide criminals a chance to escape punishment. That is, probably, a common problem in both India and Pakistan.
Anyway, in Jessica’s murder case, the investigating officer colluded with the killers family, especially Manu, who offered huge sum of money to get their off-springs go scot-free. In addition, the police informed the victim’s family and the court that many of the guests at the party had denied seeing the crime being committed, since they claimed to have left before midnight. There were barely seven eyewitnesses and they were bribed or threatened with death to recant their statements.
As expected, the jury ruled in favour of Manu and his friends in 2006.
Nevertheless, the case proved to be a milestone in India’s history. Some journalists and members of the civil society through the social media, text messaging and privately held vigils pressurised the government to reopen the case. Manu was rearrested and the evidence was reconsidered. Consequently, he was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment for Jessica’s murder.
Against this backdrop, this case reminds me of the widespread injustice in Pakistan. The 20-year old boy, Shahzeb Khan, had everything going for him in life. But his years were snatched by an arrogant and inhuman boy, Shahrukh Jatoi, of an equally arrogant father, Sikander Jatoi, who in eerily similar circumstances to Jessica’s case was driven mad by the power of his money.
Why did Shahrukh kill Shahzeb? The truth: Shahrukh knew he could get away with it because his father was a wealthy and powerful man; we live in a system where even an adult can be medically proved as a minor; the police could be bought and/or influenced; the witnesses could be bribed or harassed; and anyone could be easily blamed and hanged for the crime he had not committed.
To some extent, Shahrukh was right as he was successful in escaping from the country. But what he failed to realise was that Shahzeb was not an ordinary boy, and his family and friends were not saleable commodities; they knew the meaning of true love. Not something that the likes of Jatois and Talpurs tainting our country are familiar with.
Having said that, it is the effort of our youth who through the social media have brought the Shahzeb murder case in the limelight. Today, the Facebook page of Shahzeb Khan has more than 130,000 hits. People from across the world are taking keen interest in the case. Despite this, unfortunately, attempts are being made to hide facts and save the criminals. The blatant attempt to prove Shahrukh as a minor, the VIP treated offered to him by the police and the misreporting by a segment of the media about Shahzeb’s family accepting blood money are efforts to push the future of our youth into darkness. But the fact is that people “want justice in Shahzeb murder case, come what may. Hats off to the Supreme Court for taking the right decision to hear them.
Like Jessica’s case that depicts a deep divide between social classes in India, Shahzeb’s case crafts a compelling story about the people’s power to bring a killer to justice in Pakistan.
As a final word, we must all support Shahzeb’s family and friends and stand united for a just cause to make Pakistan a safe place to live for us and our future generation. We want our fathers and brothers to come back safe home every night. Shahzeb’s dead body came in the suit that he had adorned lovingly for his sister’s wedding. Yet, his father did not cry. “I don’t cry; I will only cry the day the killers of my son will be hanged,” said DSP Aurangzeb Khan in an interview with me. So, tragically, the honest and justice loving youth of Pakistan is collectively waiting for the tears to fall down from his eyes.

The writer is the host of Eight PM with Fe’reeha Idrees on Waqt News. Email: fereeha@gmail.com