Imphal: In Imphal’s Tarung area, a 10-year-old stands guard at the window of his home, clutching a toy — a unicorn soft toy — gifted by his father. His vigilant gaze fixed on the gate, the boy seems to be waiting for someone. Each time a figure approaches, he eagerly calls out to his mother.
Despite his composed exterior, the boy appears unsettled.
On 16 September, around 10 am, his father Serto Thangthang Kom (41), a Defence Security Corps sepoy, was abducted at gunpoint from the porch of the house and taken away in a white car.
The boy, a witness, watched helplessly, cried for help and even attempted to chase the vehicle, but couldn’t do anything. A day later, Kom’s body was found at Khuningthek village, east of Mongjam, with a gunshot wound in the head.
The child now carries a burden of guilt, his mother Somiwom says. Standing at the window, he somewhere hopes his father will return.
“The man came with a small gun. His face was covered with a handkerchief,” the 10-year-old recalled.
“He put the pistol to my father’s head and took him. Two more people were waiting outside, they were wearing black and green clothes and a round hat. Their faces were also covered. I ran inside to tell my mother, then ran outside to chase the car, but they took him,” he said, before adding in a feeble tone. “I couldn’t do anything.”
Since the police have not yet been able to identify the assailants, it is unclear whether the abduction and killing were part of the ongoing conflict between the Kukis and Meiteis in Manipur. Over 200 people have died since the violence began on 3 May.
According to a police source, there are several potential factors that may have led to Kom’s murder.
One possibility, the source said, is that he was suspected of sharing information about underground groups or had proximity with a community engaged in the current conflict, which would have made him a target. His death might also be linked to a “personal dispute”, the source added.
“We are probing all angles,” the police source said. “It is unlikely that this killing is directly connected to the current unrest because he was neither a Kuki nor a Meitei, but it is possible that he may be closer to one community, which the other did not approve of. However, at this stage, nothing definitive can be said,” the source added.
According to a source in the security establishment, Kom — of 474B, DSC platoon — was attached to the 302 Company in Leimakhong.
The DSC comprises former service personnel who are re-employed in the military for a few more years. Its role is to provide security cover to defence installations of the three services and civil establishments of the Ministry of Defence.
“He (Kom) retired from the Army in 2018 and was re-inducted in the Defence Security Corps in 2019. He had been on leave and was supposed to join work on 17 September,” an Army officer said. “The Indian Army strongly condemns the killing and stands by his family in these difficult times.”
‘Clueless’
Kom’s wife is perplexed. Her husband’s death has not yet sunk in.
“He did not have any enemy. He never got into any fight. He was not even part of this ongoing crisis in any way, then why would anyone do this to him? Just because he was with the Army?” Somiwom asked.
“I don’t understand what is happening. How can he just die like that, leaving me with the kids?” she added.
After Kom’s abduction, Somiwom first called her mother, who then informed the police and the Army. She even went to the adjoining villages, enquiring about him and the car he was taken in, but to no avail.
“All day, I kept waiting for a phone call, a message that would give me some information about him. I got a call the next day, but it was to tell me about his demise,” she said. “Someone just shot him in the head and left him to die in the bushes.”
“He had come on leave because I was unwell. He was supposed to join back work today,” she said, speaking to ThePrint Sunday.
Kom’s postmortem examination was conducted on 17 September, and the body will be handed over to the family by Monday evening for his last rites.
At her home, as Somiwom’s mother asks her to make arrangements for Kom’s last rites, she sits on a couch with her 12-year-old daughter, holding on to a family portrait. Her fingers trace the photograph at regular intervals. There are no tears in her eyes, just a steady gaze, fixed on the photo.
“Why did this happen?” she said. “I just wish this is a dream.”
(Edited by Sunanda Ranjan)