A haunting silence has been pervading through the lanes of Murshidabad’s Jafrabad, Dhulian, Suti, Shamsherganj, Jangipur, Ranipur and Betbona. The faces I witnessed bore tell-tale signs of shock as well as sorrow. As eyes around me turned moist from fresh memories of loss, burnt and empty homes stood like ghostly monuments. Temples that once reververated with the chime of bells and melody of kirtans, lay vandalised and shattered. Shops, looted and torched, bore testimony to their owner’s despair. Even pet birds that once chirped freely lay muted, their feathers charred, their flight forever frozen by the wrath of communal hatred.
The devastation narrated a morbid saga of terror perpetrated by Islamists in the name of anti-Waqf protests. Ironically, the act that was meant to reform the process of managing Waqf properties in a more transparent and accountable way, failed to prevent the marauding mob, hungry for unwarranted violence, from sparing the house of even a specially-abled person.
Organiser’s journey through this part of traumatised Bengal started from Jafrabad village. As we entered a badly burnt house, people gathered around us. The presence of a camera and a mic prompted everyone to narrate the horrific ordeal witnessed on April 11 and April 12. Villagers described the violent attack as “coordinated, communal, and calculated.”
One of the most gut-wrenching testimonies was that of Prabir Das, a specially-abled man in his 50s whose home was looted and burnt to ashes. “They put a sickle on my wife’s neck and took away her jewellery without even bothering that she was recovering from an operation. They took the money reserved for her medicines,” he said, adding, “They didn’t care that I am a viklang (specially-abled).”
According to the villagers, the mob, allegedly 500-1000 strong, emerged from surrounding areas and specifically targeted Hindu households. The rioters came with bombs, chisels, and pistols. “It didn’t matter who you were – old, young, disabled, or a woman. They were just checking your Hindu identity,” said Viswajit Das, another resident.
“IT DIDN’T MATTER WHETHER YOU ARE A TMC OR A BJP SUPPORTER—IF YOU ARE A HINDU, THEY WILL TARGET YOU”
Jafrabad, the region close to Govindpur, a Muslim-dominated area, I was told that most of the families survive by making beedis. A prominent fixture there were the TMC symbols that were on the walls of most of the houses.
One of the villagers, Dipon Joy Das, recounting the horrific tale, said, “I was returning from selling beedis. I saw a mob storming our village with guns, bombs and sharp iron weapons like sickles. In the attack, few of our fellow villagers also got badly injured. They looted our gold and money by pointing guns on our heads.”
Whatever they had saved over the years by working day and night was all gone, recounted Dipon with a heavy voice. When asked about the TMC symbol on his house wall, Dipon replied, “Yes, I am a TMC supporter. But that didn’t protect me. It doesn’t matter if you are a TMC, BJP, Congress, or Left supporter, if you are a Hindu, you will be targeted. That’s the only thing that matters to them.”
He paused for a moment and blurted out, “Even Didi (Mamata Banerjee) is silent as she doesn’t care about Hindus.”
“OUR THAKUR WAS DESECRATED AND VANDALISED”
“Amader sob sesh hoye gelo, bari, taka, sona kichhui baki nei. Tara kichhui chhare ni. Mone hochhe Hindu howar jonnei shaja peychee (Everything we had is gone, our home, money, jewellery, nothing is left. They did not spare a single thing. It feels like we are being punished just for being Hindu),” said Kobita Das of Jafrabad, whose house was ravaged in communal violence.
Her words, spoken in Bengali, cut through the silence of her annihilated home. “We were inside when they came. They broke the lock on the gate. One after another, bricks were thrown, and they smashed everything.”
Her voice falters, but she continues, “We tried to block the door from inside, but they forced their way in. We were three people. Then we ran and hid. We told ourselves: if they catch us, we’ll die. We won’t even live to see what happens next.”
Now, days later, she says her house is no longer a home. “They have desecrated our Thakur (deity) and vandalised our temple.”
Consequently, she and others cannot sleep. “We cannot live in peace. We are still terrified. What if they come again? Day or night, we cannot move back to our house. I am constantly afraid.”
Around six temples in the area were vandalised by the violent mob. The ‘Thakur,’ a term for the deity, deeply revered as a divine presence in every Bengali Hindu household, was not spared from the attacks.
WHERE BIRDS DON’T FLY AND HINDUS CAN’T PRAY
Around four temples in the area which were visited by the Organiser team have been vandalised by the mob
(Photo: Nishant Kumar Azad)
“EVERYTHING IS GONE. I AM AT ZERO”
Not only the windows of some houses but fanatic Islamists have shattered the aspirations and dreams of many youths of the region as well. In a scene replicated across the volatile belt, from Jafrabad to Ranipur, the home of 21-year-old college student Sumit Pal was ransacked, his belongings looted, and his prized possession, a recently purchased bike, set ablaze by the mob.
“This was my bike,” Sumit said, pointing to the charred frame still lying in the front of his gutted home. “My father gave it to me last year in October. It cost Rs 1.17 lakh. I used it to go to college every day.”
A student of Bengali Honours, Sumit was slowly charting out a path for his future, dreaming of a stable life that entailed a prospective position in the Army like his brother Amit. But those plans lie in ruins now. The fire that consumed his home destroyed much more than material possessions; it shattered his spirit.
“We were hiding inside. The mob had bombs, weapons. We couldn’t even step out,” he recalled. “Everything was looted—gold, cash, even our clothes. The locker was broken, everything that was inside was gone.”
Sumit, his mother and father have taken shelter in the nearby house away from the scene of the rampage. He was narrating the sorry state of affairs to Organiser while walking among the ruins that were once his childhood home. “How can I dream now? What will I become?” he asked quietly. “Everything is gone. I am at zero.”
Relief Materials, Rations, Medical Items were provided to the Hindu Victims by Ramkrishna Mission, ISKCON, SinghaBahini, Bharat Sevashram and other Hindu Organisations
The emotional cost of the violence is immeasurable, say locals. For Sumit and hundreds like him, it is not just a house and belongings that was lost, but dreams and hopes of becoming something was also robbed.
“THEY DRAGGED HIM OUTSIDE AND …”
Amid broken gates, charred door frames, and the smell of grief, two names echo – Chandan Das (40) and Hargovind Das (70). Pulled out of their home by a violent mob. Father (Hargovind) and son (Chandan) were brutally murdered just a few feet apart.
When Organiser visited their home, Chandan’s wife, Pinki Das clutching her minor daughter, stood trembling. Her voice cracked in disbelief while recounting the murderous assault. “They dragged him outside and killed my husband and my father-in law…we kept calling the police but no one answered. The bodies were lying near our house for over three hours.” Her words were muffled by her sobs. She didn’t need to describe the horror – the shattered windows, the charred walls, the dried black stains on the ground did the talking. That “black spot” isn’t dirt—it’s blood, the last physical trace of Chandan, dried by the Bengal heat, witnessed by the helpless eyes of her minor daughter.
Hargovind Das had run to save his son. He never returned. “They separated him, beat him, and killed him here,” says a neighbour, pointing to another dried pool of blood ten steps away.
The threat hasn’t ended. Locals alleged that after the murders, Islamists in the area warned them: “This was just the trailer. The film is yet to begin.”
“WE DON’T TRUST MAMATA’S POLICE. WE WANT BSF CAMP HERE”
Across the violence-scarred villages of Murshidabad district, two things visually stood out. First, the scenes of utter devastation and second the loud, desperate, and unified demand rising from the Hindu community, calling for a permanent Border Security Force (BSF) camp.
Kalpana Das, a resident of Betbona, remembers every single second of the horror. “We were inside our homes when mobs began attacking – smashing windows, breaking doors. They set homes and shops on fire, and even desecrated our temple. Murders took place in broad daylight. From 9 in the morning till 2 in the afternoon, the rampage continued. And we kept calling the police. But they never came.”
“What did come, hours later, was the BSF. Only when BSF arrived did we feel protected,” Kalpana said. “That’s why we are demanding a permanent BSF camp here. We no longer trust Mamata’s police.” Her voice was steady, but the trauma in her eyes lingers.
Kalpana Das was not alone. Rupali Das, a victim of violence from Shamsherganj shared her pain. “The Muslims in our area are openly threatening us. They said what happened was just a trailer—the full movie is still coming.”
Another woman with extreme pain came forward and said, “We are just Hindus who lived peacefully. Now our temples are gone. Our houses are destroyed. Not a single policeman came to help.”
“The police station at Shamsherganj is just 3 kilometers away,” said a young girl. “Even with bad roads, they could’ve been here in 30 minutes. But they didn’t come. For us, it felt like 300 kilometers. were abandoned.”
And so, from village to village, whether a man or woman, a single demand echoes louder was, “We want BSF camp.”
“WE WERE FORCED TO LEAVE THE REFUGEE CAMP”
In the chaos that followed in Murshidabad, hundreds of Hindu families fled their homes, seeking safety in the neighbouring district of Malda. Among them were pregnant women, children, youth and elders carrying nothing but trauma and fear in their eyes. Their shelter became the Parlalpur High School, a building barely 500 metre on the banks of the Ganga, when it was turned into a refugee camp.
But even this temporary shelter didn’t last long.
When the Organiser team reached Betbona village of Murshidabad to speak with the victims, what they narrated was not just sorrow, it was disbelief mingled with anger.“(Mamata er police amader ke bhoy dekhiye refugee camp theke bari phiriye diyeche. Ora bollo, ekhane apnar shathe ki hobe, tar daitto nebo na. Ekhon apni bolun, bari toh jaliye rakh kore dilo. Amra ekhane kivabe thakbo?)
Mamata’s police threatened us and forced us to leave the refugee camp and return to our village. Whatever wrong happens to you here, we won’t be responsible. Now you tell me, how can we live here? There is nothing left except the ashes. Everything’s been looted and burnt”, said Rumpa Mandal of Betbona, her voice trembling with rage. “Mamata’s police threatened us, told us to leave the school camp and return to our village. “Whatever happens to you there, we won’t be responsible,” they said.
Gopal Mandal, another resident of Betbona, echoed her words. He and others were left with no choice. Staying in the camp had become risky but because of mounting pressure from authorities, determined to project an illusion of normalcy, they had to leave.
To verify these claims, the Organiser team travelled by boat from Murshidabad to the Parlalpur High school, Malda. The camp was empty. Not a soul remained to tell their story.
Locals confirmed what the refugees told us: the police not only threatened the displaced, but had also warned villagers nearby to face consequences if they had not helped authorities in convincing victims to leave the camp and return to their village.
“Six people from our village were slapped with false cases,” alleged Rupchand, a local boatman, his face hardened with frustration. “There are no refugees left here. Some are hiding with relatives. The rest went back after the police leaned hard on them.”
The Saviour Boatman Who Rescued 360 Hindus
As violence gripped hundreds of terrified Hindu families fled across the Ganga in the dead of night. But their escape would not have been possible without the selfless efforts of local boatmen like Rupchand Mandal, who risked their lives to ferry victims to safety in Malda, free of cost.
Speaking to Organiser, Rupchand Mandal recounted the chilling events of that night when, amidst violence and widespread fear, he transported nearly 360 Hindus from the Murshidabad side of the river to the safety of a Parlalpur high school relief camp in Malda.
“I didn’t charge anyone. Humanity came first that night,” Rupchand said. “There were pregnant women among the evacuees, and small children were crying.”
Rupchand wasn’t alone. Other boatmen from nearby ghats, including Rajendra Mandal and those from the Bada Naam ghat, made several trips across the river between 6 PM and 3 AM, navigating only with dim lantern light but moved by the urgency of saving lives.
The escape was a silent exodus. Entire families crossed without luggage, many barefoot, some wounded, all traumatised. According to Rupchand, not a single Muslim crossed with them that night; it was only Hindus fleeing for their lives.
“They told us to say we wanted to go back,” he added bitterly. “But that was a lie. We didn’t want to go. They made us say it.” As uncertainty and desperation looms over the lives damaged by the violent Islamist mob in Murshidabad’s villages, the only cry of hope is for justice and safety from the powers that be. This is a prayer they want answered Fast.
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