Shambhulal records hate video from jail
Jodhpur:In what is being termed as a major security breach, incendiary videos featuring Shambhulal Regar, a Rajasthan man jailed after a horrific hate crime, have been recorded inside the Jodhpur Central Jail and circulated.
Regar, 36, has been in jail since December for hacking a Muslim labourer to death in Rajsamand and burning his body, all on camera. Extremely disturbing video clips filmed by his 15-year-old nephew were widely circulated before the police arrested him.
The two new videos in circulation have Regar repeat his rant against "jihadis" inside what appears to be his jail cell. Wearing a hoodie, he speaks into a cellphone and reads out from a long, hate-filled statement asking Hindus to unite against Jihadis. In one of the videos, he alleges a threat to his life.
He expresses no regrets for his crime. "I couldn't bear threats to Hindu women. I have ruined my life and I don't regret it. But I am sad about the fact that the law and the media showed illicit relationship with her and me," he says. Media reports, including by NDTV, exposed how a failed relationship with a minor could have triggered Regar's chilling crime.
The police have filed a First Information Report (FIR) and jail officials are sifting through the barracks to track down the mobile phone. So far, say the police, no phone or any device has been found.
Regar has told the police it wasn't his phone. He has not revealed whose it is either. Sources say only 2G jammers work at the jail complex, which also houses rape-accused spiritual leader Asaram Bapu.
Calling one of the videos his "last", Regar says even though he has been kept in one of the jail's safest cells, he fears a convict from West Bengal is planning to kill him.
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Ballari violence: Were cops made scapegoats to cover political failure?
Bengaluru: Across Karnataka, a serious discussion has begun after the violence in Ballari and the swift action taken against police officers who were on the ground that day. The core question being asked is simple: when law and order fails, why are police officers the first to be shown the door, while political responsibility is quietly pushed aside?
The January 1 clash in Ballari was not a sudden street fight. It was a political confrontation involving supporters of two sitting MLAs. A banner related to the unveiling of a Valmiki statue became the flashpoint. What followed was stone-pelting, firing, and the death of a Congress worker. The situation spiralled within hours.
Within a day, Ballari SP Pavan Nejjur was suspended. Soon after, senior officers were reshuffled. Deputy Inspector General of Police Vartika Katiyar was transferred. No official reason was cited in the notification. But the timing made one thing clear: accountability, at least on paper, had been fixed.
Since then, there has been unease within police circles and political debate outside it.
Unconfirmed reports that Nejjur attempted suicide after his suspension were firmly denied by senior officers and the home minister. They said he was safe, resting, and under stress. Still, the very fact that such reports gained traction says something about the pressure officers feel when action is taken overnight, without public clarity.
Opposition leaders have called Nejjur a scapegoat, pointing out that he had taken charge only hours before the violence. They have asked how an officer can be blamed for a political clash he barely had time to assess. They have also drawn parallels with earlier incidents where police leadership was suspended after tragedies, while political decision-making remained untouched.
However, responding to this criticism, Home Minister G Parameshwara rejected the argument that the suspension was unfair because Nejjur had assumed charge only hours earlier. “It is not important whether he reported to duty on the same day (of incident) or one hour back. Duty is duty. He is not new to the department. IPS officers are trained to handle such situations any time. If he had acted swiftly and promptly, he could have prevented the situation from escalating.” He had said adding that Nejjur did not discharge his duties properly and that this was the reason for his suspension.
Now, fresh and unconfirmed reports suggest that Vartika Katiyar may have met a senior cabinet minister, questioning why she was made to pay the price for a situation that was political in nature. There is no official confirmation of this meeting. But the talk itself has added fuel to the debate.
What is being discussed in the state is not whether the police made mistakes. Many acknowledge that the situation on January 1 was mishandled. A clash earlier in the day was allowed to cool down without strong preventive action. Later, a banner came up near a politically sensitive location. The crowd should not have been allowed to build up. Better anticipation was needed.
At the same time, critics are asking whether the entire burden can be placed on officers when the trigger itself was political rivalry. Who installed the banner? Who mobilised supporters? Who had armed private gunmen present at the spot? These are questions that are still part of the investigation, yet administrative punishment moved faster than political accountability.
This has led to a wider comparison with past incidents, including the Bengaluru stampede after the RCB victory celebrations. There too, police officers were suspended after lives were lost, while decisions taken at higher levels were defended as unavoidable. Many are now saying Ballari fits into the same pattern.
The argument being made is not that the police are blameless. The argument is that responsibility appears to stop at the uniform. When things go wrong, officers are transferred or suspended to send a message. But when the violence is rooted in political rivalry, that message feels incomplete.
Within police ranks, there is also quiet concern about working conditions. Officers say they are expected to manage volatile political situations overnight, often with little room to push back against powerful interests. When things hold, they are invisible. When they collapse, they stand alone.
The Ballari episode has once again exposed this fault line.
For the government, the challenge is larger than one suspension or transfer. The real test is whether it is willing to publicly acknowledge political failures when law and order breaks down, instead of letting the system suggest that the police alone dropped the ball.
For now, what remains is a growing feeling across Karnataka that accountability is selective. And that whenever politics turns violent, the easiest answer is to change the officers, not the decisions that led to the violence in the first place.
