The death of Anjali Singh in an accident in Delhi in the early hours of January 1 is a tragedy with many grim echoes. If the details of the hit-and-run — her body was dragged over a considerable distance after it became entangled with the axle of the accused’s car — have shocked the public, then the circumstances surrounding the case must raise questions that deserve urgent attention: On one of the most intensely patrolled nights of the year, with around 18,000 police and security personnel on the streets, how was this young woman dragged for 10 km without drawing the attention of law enforcement? Why did it take two hours between the first call to the PCR and finding the body? How safe are the streets of the national capital for anyone, whether they’re on a two-wheeler, as Singh was, or walking, or in a car?
Zipping down the road on her purple TVS Jupiter — which she had purchased on EMI as a gift for herself — one can imagine Singh feeling like any other modern, urban woman in India: Part of a vibrant economy and society, independent and “liberated”, as her sister described her. That her story met such a gruesome end on an ill-lit road speaks of a larger darkness and bigger failures.
