Scene: Inside a rural police station in Punjab.
Fan blades rotate slowly- mimicking the sluggish pace of justice. Files spill over desks like overcooked bureaucracy. Three characters dominate this drama of delay: SHO, Mohrar, and Constable Shakeel.
SHO (holding a chipped teacup in one hand, and a WhatsApp forward from the DSP’s office in the other)
*“Shakeel! Why is the Section 22-A CrPC application still on my table? This should’ve been ‘complied with’ yesterday. The DSP’s nephew says you’re ‘not cooperating’.”
Constable Shakeel (hesitantly)
“Sir… the petition writer gave it… but Mohrar Saheb said unless there’s an entry in Register No. 2, not even divine mercy reaches the Thana.”
Mohrar (clutching Register No. 2 like it’s Article 9 of the Constitution)
“Roznamcha is the soul of this station, sir. No entry, no action. I’m bound by Police Rule 22.45. Even Section 154 CrPC waits for my ink to drop. Justice can line up outside the gate – entry first.”
SHO (rubbing his forehead)
“Mohrar Saheb, your recent entries include: ‘cloudy weather,’ ‘fan malfunction,’ and ‘samosa shortage.’ Where is Register No. 4? DSP needs an update on cattle theft cases – especially ones not involving his cousin’s buffalo.”
Mohrar (flipping registers like a Sessions Judge reviewing bail files)
“Sir, most buffaloes returned on their own. I marked them as ‘resolved through natural migration.’ As for Register No. 23 – the Compromise Register – both parties just shouted, exchanged slurs, and left. That’s reconciliation, rural edition.”
Constable Shakeel (cautiously hopeful)
“Sir, a widow came today. Her house has been illegally occupied. Should I register an FIR under Section 447 PPC?”
SHO (chuckling as if law is folklore)
“Still clinging to legal textbooks, Shakeel? That matter falls under Local Political Gravity. Put her application in Register No. 19 – ‘Applications Received’ – and then forget about it like we forgot Police Rules of 1934.”
Mohrar (solemnly)
“Law is permanent. Entry is optional.”
(Outside: a rusted bench. Inside: legal inertia.)
SHO
“Where’s Register No. 12 — Bad Characters? Elections are near. We need ‘volunteers’ for preventive detention under Sections 107 and 151 of the CrPC.”
Mohrar
“Merged it with Register No. 18 — Sureties & Bonds. Easier to track who paid whom.”
Shakeel (like a conscientious law student)
“Sir… do we ever use Register No. 25 — Standing Orders & Circulars?”
SHO
“Only when the IG tweets about ‘Thana Reform’.”
(Suddenly: a power outage. Darkness floods the Thana. Roznamcha glows metaphorically in Mohrar’s hands like divine scripture.)
Mohrar (writing religiously)
“12:35 PM — Electricity gone. Constable Shakeel tried to prepare Moka Report. SHO discouraged. Roznamcha: updated.”
Narrator: In this temple of procedure -Registers are scripture. But evidence floats, And justice drifts into conjecture.
The SHO is a manager, The Mohrar a scribe, Shakeel – a student of law trapped in the wrong tribe.
Food for Thought:
- Smart uniforms won’t rewrite old entries.
- Digital dashboards won’t digitize character.
Not until:
- Mohrars stop weaponizing Register No. 2,
- SHOs stop acting as brokers-in-boots, and
- Shakeels are trained to investigate — not imitate or hesitate.
Only then will the Thana return to what it was meant to be under law:
A space to collect evidence, not excuses.
—
This satire is not a comment on any individual but an institutional reflection. It is crafted in the spirit of constructive critique and reformation — aimed at reinforcing constitutional policing under the CrPC, not undermining the dignity of those in uniform
