A tragedy shattered the serenity of bustling Nithari in the heart of Noida. Children vanished, leaving families haunted. Recent acquittals have unveiled a flawed investigation. Grief-stricken parents' quest for justice is an enduring testament to their unyielding love for lost children, echoing through time, writes BISWAJEET BANERJEE

In the heart of the bustling Noida district of Uttar Pradesh, nestled within the quiet embrace of Nithari village, a tragedy unfolded that would forever scar the souls of its residents. The wails of the families inhabiting this close-knit community have echoed for nearly two decades, resounding not only in the alleys of this village but also throughout the nation's conscience. The haunting question that lingers in the air, "Who killed our children?" pierces the heart, and the State can no longer ignore their cry for justice.

The recent acquittal of Moninder Singh Pandher and his helper, Surinder Koli, by a two-judge bench of the Allahabad High Court in two of the 2006 Nithari murder cases has sent shockwaves through the nation. The court's scathing assessment of the investigation as "botched up" and its criticism of the violation of basic norms in evidence collection has shattered the hope that the victims' families had clung to for so long. Pandher, who has already been cleared in four other cases, is now set to be a free man.

The court's verdict has shaken the very foundation of justice, as it points out the "casual and perfunctory manner" in which crucial aspects of arrest, recovery, and confession were handled. But beyond the legal intricacies, the heart of this story lies in the innocent lives that were lost, the agony of the families left behind, and the persistent cry for answers.

Between 2005 and 2006, Nithari was transformed from a haven of innocence to a realm of dread and despair. It all began on a fateful June 20, 2005, when an 8-year-old girl, full of youthful energy and dreams, ventured near a water tank to play. Her laughter filled the air that day, but it was a laughter never heard again as she mysteriously disappeared, plunging her family into an agonising nightmare.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as more children inexplicably vanished near that ominous water tank, seemingly vanishing into thin air. The parents' desperate cries for their children's return went unanswered, and the village's collective fear deepened. Nithari, once a place of laughter and innocence, had now become a shadowed realm haunted by whispered tales of ghostly apparitions near the tank.

The local police, grappling with the inexplicable nature of these disappearances, embarked on extensive investigations. Their pursuit of answers led them across multiple states and cities, from the bustling streets of Mumbai to the serene landscapes of Bihar and the heart of the nation, Delhi. Despite their relentless efforts, no substantial leads emerged, and the veil of darkness shrouding Nithari remained.

But a glimmer of hope finally pierced through the gloom, emanating from the call details of a missing 21-year-old woman named Payal. She had journeyed to Nithari from the distant town of Udham Singh Nagar in Uttarakhand in search of employment. These call details unveiled a connection that sent shivers down spines, a connection to Moninder Singh Pandher, a resident of the enigmatic D5 Kothi in Nithari village.

At first, Pandher attempted to conceal his involvement by claiming that Payal had been seeking employment from him. But the truth, like a relentless spectre, could not be evaded any longer. The police discovered Payal's mobile phone in Pandher's possession, and, under the weight of irrefutable evidence, she finally admitted to the horrors that had transpired. She confessed to her own murder and the nightmarish disposal of her lifeless body into a nearby drain.

This shocking revelation set in motion a chilling sequence of discoveries that would forever scar the village of Nithari. In December 2006, the Noida Police made a gut-wrenching revelation as they found the remains of approximately 19 girls and children in the same accursed drain. It was a macabre tableau of death, a haunting testament to the fact that these unthinkable horrors had been perpetrated by the sinister hands of Surendra Koli, a servant in the employ of Moninder Singh Pandher.

The grief-stricken parents, who had once been filled with dreams and hopes for their children, have spent years on an unrelenting quest for justice. Their pain is collective, and their stories are a symphony of sorrow. Many of them, in the face of this unspeakable tragedy, abandoned the place they once called home. They returned to their native villages, leaving behind a ghost town where laughter had once danced in the air.

Now, the wound reopens, and the pain intensifies as the unexpected verdict of acquittal reverberates through the village. Sunita, a mother who lost her beloved daughter, Jyoti, in the Nithari incident, raises her voice in anguished plea, "With folded hands, I request Modi ji and Yogi ji that those brutes should only be hanged. They should not be acquitted." Sunita's heartache is a reflection of the collective anguish shared by 19 parents who lost their sons and daughters in that dark chapter of Nithari.

Most of these families had been lured by the prospect of employment, and their dreams had been built upon fragile foundations on the periphery of Nithari village. The calamity shattered their hopes, scattering them like leaves in the wind. Today, only a handful of families remain.

In the wake of the convicts’ shocking acquittal, the village is a cauldron of seething emotions. Ram Kishan, a labourer in Noida, expresses his agony through actions. He arrives at the dreaded D5 Kothi, gathers bricks from the road, and hurls them at the house. He, too, is a victim of the Nithari incident, a man who lost his precious 3-year-old son.

His boy had vanished while playing near the water tank, his innocent laughter silenced forever. Days later, the discovery of his son's skeleton in the drain, marked by the presence of his tiny slippers and scattered clothing, delivered the crushing blow of reality.

As one of the legal representatives of the victims questions, "I am not able to understand that if these criminals will not be hanged, then who will?" The pursuit of justice, a journey spanning nearly two decades, now seems uncertain.

Pappu, another victim of the Nithari incident, echoes the sentiments of a community in mourning. "I have lost my daughter in this incident. I am upset after the High Court's decision. I will continue the fight for justice," he declares, his voice choked with sorrow.

The CBI took over the investigation from UP Police in January 2007 and filed charges against Koli in 16 cases and against Pandher in one case under the immoral trafficking Act.

As Nithari village grapples with the painful acquittal of the accused, the community remains steadfast in their quest for justice. It is a battle that transcends time, a plea that refuses to be silenced. These families, bound by grief and united by a common tragedy, demand that justice be served. In a world that moves on, their pain remains undiminished, an unwavering testament to their love for the children they lost in the Nithari tragedy.

The Nithari case, with all its complexities and legal intricacies, is not just another legal battle. It is a tragic saga that has scarred a community, a heart-wrenching tale of innocence lost and families torn apart. The pain of Nithari remains, echoing through the years, and the fight for justice continues, unrelenting and undying, because the cry of "Who killed our children?" cannot, and will not, be ignored.

(Writer is Political Editor, The Pioneer, Lucknow)