As many as 36 years later, the murder of Rao Raja Hukam Singh of Jodhpur, remains unsolved despite periodic efforts to re-open the case.
His immediate surviving family, son Parikshit and daughter Jayanandini, have given up. His wife Rajeshwari, passed away in the interim.They had appealed to the Supreme Court to move the Rajasthan police to detect what exactly happened to Hukam Singh, also known as Tutu Banna, on the night of April 17, 1981. The appeal was in vain.
Why am I writing this story now? Because he was my brother, step-brother if you insist on precision. All my efforts down the decades to adapt Tutu’s brief, but larger-than-life story into a book or a film script, have been in vain. There are still too many missing pieces in the puzzle. Both books and cinema demand a conclusive ending.
Hukam Singh was in his 20s when he was killed in a sword fight in Jodhpur. There are two versions of this story. The official one is that he was in a drunken stupor, he got abusive with a group of “four or five men”, who were also on a whisky binge. When Hukam Singh did not stop his abuses, they killed him with the sword.
The other version is that Hukam Singh was sleeping in the garden of his residence Rai Ka Bagh Haveli, when he was overpowered and killed. The charpoy he had slept on was broken, his wrist watch had been smashed. Only the water hamper on a low table was still in place.
His wife Rajeshwari, had insisted that he had given up drinking a year before the night of the killing. She had spelt this out to the investigators repeatedly, but her statements did not seem to make a difference at all.
A suspect named Guman Singh was arrested. All efforts to locate him a year later have been in vain. Some police officers, on the condition of anonymity, said that he was “old, a bag of bones”, and had died years ago.
Over the decades, Tutu Banna continues to be remembered in the towns of Rajasthan and indeed, also in royal palaces. But whether it was Jaipur’s late Maharani Gayatri Devi, a taxi driver or a shopkeeper, their voices drop low when they would say, “Aah, he was a very loving guy, but we don’t know what happened. It’s better not to ask questions around these parts.”
The royal family of Jodhpur headed by Maharaj Gaj Singh and his mother Krishna Devi, are not very forthcoming about the events either. On meeting them in the Jodhpur palace years ago, they expressed their regrets over the violent temper of Tutu, and lamented the tragedy deeply.
Hukam Singh, the son of Hanwant Singh and Zubeida, was raised by Krishna Devi, following the deaths of the maharaja and Zubeida in a private airplane crash. Tutu grew up pampered, but also hot-tempered and restless, frequently demanding money, jewellery and vast amounts of property, which he insisted were due to him. He was married off early to give him some “stability”, but Tutu persisted in his fits of anger, and to spite the royal family with Jan Sangh affiliations, joined the Youth Congress.
Towards the last stretch of his life, Tutu would meet me frequently, and laugh, “Brother, this may be the last time you may be seeing me. Do me a favour, if I go, look after my children.” A fortnight after he said that, he was gone.
In a matter of a few months, the case was closed. Till today, whenever the name of Tutu Banna comes up in the course of conversations with his old buddies or in royalty circles, I continue to get blank looks or hollow words of sympathy.
At the end of the day, I am left with the questions: Who killed my brother? Why? And why no one wants to re-look into the case?
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