Keyless and clueless: Stranded truckers from north India tell tales of police brutality

Truck drivers stuck for over two weeks after cops confiscated their keys for transporting migrants. JOYEL K PIOUS & SHIBA PRASAD SAHU meet them during a late-night rendezvous

Red blisters the size of small coins have popped up all over Noushad’s neck and shoulders. He pushes his beige-coloured shirt to the side to show us the boils. “This is the reward being given to us for empathising with the pain of stranded migrant labourers,” says his friend Shamshad Ali.

Shamshad, Noushad, and 18 other truckers from Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh are stranded near a lay-by on National Highway-16, in the scorching month of May without shelter or proper food. Their trucks’ documents and keys have been confiscated by the police. Their crime: giving rides to migrant labourers waiting on the roadside, crying for help to get back home.

Sleep, a distant dream

“We are not treated like this even in UP or MP,” says Shamshad, his reddened eyes gleaming in the street lights. It’s well past midnight, but Shamshad is unable to sleep. “Sleep has eluded us for a while now,” he says as his friends toss and turn on a soiled tarpaulin spread over the road. The summer heat hangs in the air, though it’s so late in the night. “They were our people,” says Mukesh Sharma of Gwalior. “How could we ignore them? They were begging to be taken along.” Their hopes were dashed once they got to the Nallur toll gate. “The 12 workers in my truck were asked to get down. I was asked to return the money I had collected for diesel and toll fee. Later, the cops took away my keys and registration papers,” recalls Mukesh.    

Eid under truck

The incident happened two weeks ago. For the last 15 days, the truckers have been living on the road, literally. “I was supposed to be home for Eid,” says Noushad. “Instead, I spent the day under the truck, to escape the heat.”The lay-by area is a barren patch, with not a tree in sight. “The only comfortable time is early morning hours,” says Mukesh. The sweltering heat has given most of them rashes and blisters. “It’s itching and paining at the same time,” says Noushad.

Long walk for answers

Beyond taking away their keys, the police have not said much. “What sort of punishment is this?” asks Shamshad. Clueless and keyless, the drivers walk three kilometres to the Sholavaram police station every day, to find out when they would be allowed to leave. They neither get a reply, nor their keys. Shamshad, in one sense, is a frontline COVID-19 warrior. He came to Chennai with a consignment of sanitisers, to battle the disease. And yet, he now is treated like criminal. It’s one thing to not help the distressed migrant workers, but another to torment those who heed the cries of helpless fellow citizens. When contacted, a senior police officer said transporting people in trucks was illegal and hence the vehicles were “seized”. “They will be released later,” he added.

‘Seized for illegal act’
When contacted, a senior police officer said transporting people in trucks was illegal and hence the vehicles were “seized”. “They will be released later,” he added