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Crime, Cops and Siren Wails

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By Pooja Khanna                                       

Crime, cops and siren wails usually conjure images of bloodshed, power and bravado. But fate had something far more nuanced in store for me when I became part of something truly unusual — a Crime Literature Festival, perhaps one of its kind not just in India, but possibly the world. Picture this: authors of crime fiction, stalwarts of the police force, IAS officers, crime film directors — all under one roof. The atmosphere was unmistakably star-studded, yet grounded in grim realities. And there I was, tasked with interviewing former Commissioner of Police, Neeraj Kumar.

I must confess, I walked in with a stereotype firmly in place — a macho man flexing his authority, intimidating by sheer presence. What I met instead was a revelation: a soft-spoken, honest, humble officer whose respect for his uniform was matched only by his quiet courage. It became evident very quickly why the hall was packed to capacity — Neeraj Kumar’s name doesn’t need an introduction; it speaks volumes.

As I sat across him, I saw not power posturing, but intelligence wrapped in charm and humility. I began with his journey — how he became an IPS officer. His answer disarmed the room: “It was a fluke.” A fluke, perhaps, but one that shaped an officer who cracked some of the country’s most high-profile cases.

When asked whether his life resembled that of Bollywood heroes, he smiled gently and dismissed the notion. Reality, he said, was far removed from cinematic drama. Our conversation then turned to media trials and political pressure — particularly while handling influential cases. His response was as calm as it was firm: “When you are right, nobody messes with you.”

The room fell silent when we spoke about the Nirbhaya case — a moment that shook the nation. He recalled a call from senior journalist Sonia Singh questioning why he hadn’t resigned. His reply was fearless: “Why should I, when my team caught the culprits within a day?” He also highlighted his role in pushing reforms that strengthened rape laws in favour of women — a reminder that real change often happens quietly.

From old-school gangsters to modern cyber syndicates, I asked him which era felt more frightening. His counter-question drew laughter and thought alike: “What scares you more — a gun pointed at you or money vanishing from your bank account?”

The audience leaned in as he recounted the chilling details of the 1993 Mumbai blasts, his interactions with underworld figures, and the now-famous phone calls involving Dawood Ibrahim — conversations layered with conditions India could never accept.

We moved from crime to cricket, from Dial D for Don and Khaki Files to his stint as BCCI’s Anti-Corruption Chief. Match-fixing, manipulated players, prescribed matches — revelations that were deeply unsettling. The heartbreak was real; the disillusionment unavoidable. Yet the evening found balance when we spoke about Delhi Crime, the Netflix series inspired by his work — a powerful reminder that truth, when told honestly, resonates globally.

As we concluded, Neeraj Kumar revealed his post-retirement indulgence: golf. Simple. Human.

That, perhaps, was the biggest takeaway. Behind every uniform is a human being carrying enormous weight, quietly holding up the truth for society to see. Neeraj Kumar is not just a man — he is an institution: courageous, honest, principled, and effortlessly charming.