In the film Jai Bhim, every question Sengeni asks, while making endless rounds of a police station searching for her husband Rajakannu, leaves a lasting impression on the viewer. Though it is a cinematic story, a disturbingly similar tragedy is unfolding in real life in Vijayawada, Andhra Pradesh. A mother stands outside a police station asking a simple yet devastating question: "Where is my son?" Unlike the film, this is not fiction. It is the anguish of a real mother seeking answers from the very institution entrusted with protecting her child. If reports are true that officials responded by heckling her to "put a garland on your son's photograph," the tragedy ceases to be merely personal—it becomes an indictment of the system itself.

Every citizen is born with the fundamental right to life guaranteed under the Constitution of India. Protecting that right is among the foremost responsibilities of the State and its law-enforcement agencies. When those entrusted with safeguarding life become accused of taking it, the issue transcends individual misconduct and strikes at the foundations of constitutional democracy.

The disappearance of Gade Sai Krishna after he was reportedly brought to the Krishnalanka Police Station in Vijayawada has raised disturbing questions. His mother's repeated pleas reportedly received no meaningful response, compelling her to approach the High Court. Only after judicial intervention did the government suspend the Circle Inspector concerned, a move that many viewed as an implicit acknowledgement that something had gone seriously wrong. The CPI(M) Andhra Pradesh State Committee has demanded a judicial inquiry into the disappearance of Gade Sai Krishna. His mother had complained that the Krishnalanka police brought him from Markapuram last month, after which he went missing; she approached the High Court because the police failed to respond to her grievance. The police's explanation and the government's subsequent actions regarding the officers involved have raised numerous suspicions. CPI(M) state secretary Srinivasa Rao criticised the ruling and opposition parties for diverting attention from the core issue by turning the matter into a caste-based dispute. He urged all proponents of democracy to condemn the incident—suspected to be a custodial death—and the undemocratic actions of the police.

According to the Special Investigation Team (SIT), witnesses—including a Sub-Inspector, an e-commerce delivery executive, and Sai Krishna's mother—confirmed that he was present inside the police station on multiple occasions. The SIT reportedly concluded that he died in police custody, that evidence was destroyed, CCTV footage was deleted, and his body was disposed of. Yet the body has still not been recovered, and its whereabouts remain unknown.

If these findings are accurate, they point not merely to custodial violence but to an alleged attempt to erase all evidence of it. Such allegations demand nothing less than a thorough, independent judicial inquiry.

This is not the first controversy surrounding the same police station. Earlier, Kranthi Kumar reportedly died by suicide after alleging police harassment. A selfie video recorded before his death reportedly implicated the same Circle Inspector. If one officer is linked to multiple deaths or allegations of serious abuse within a short period, merely suspending the officer cannot satisfy the demands of justice. Criminal accountability must follow wherever evidence warrants it.

Nor is this an isolated incident. Naveen Kumar, a Dalit youth from West Godavari district, allegedly died by suicide after severe police harassment. His family has alleged that he was illegally detained, assaulted, humiliated, and driven to take his own life. Likewise, the death of Gangamma while in police custody in Kurnool district has generated widespread concern and demands for accountability. It is not surprising that all the victims belong to lower sections of the society, i.e. Dalits, backward class and poor sections.

Serious concerns have also arisen over allegations involving police personnel themselves. The recent "honey trap" case in Anantapur district generated widespread controversy after the names of certain police personnel reportedly surfaced. The lack of transparency regarding the progress of the investigation has only deepened public suspicion. When an institution expected to command public trust becomes the subject of repeated controversy, the credibility of the entire administrative system suffers.

Viewed individually, each case is deeply troubling. Taken together, they raise a far more disturbing question: Are these isolated failures, or do they reveal deeper institutional problems within policing?

The Supreme Court has repeatedly emphasised that custodial violence is among the gravest violations of fundamental rights. Following earlier custodial death cases, including landmark judgments delivered in the 1990s, the Court made it clear that the State bears constitutional responsibility when a person dies because of the unlawful acts or negligence of public officials. Such deaths are not merely criminal offences; they are violations of Article 21 of the Constitution.

Dr B R Ambedkar famously observed that however good a Constitution may be, it will prove ineffective if those entrusted with implementing it are not committed to its values. Those words resonate powerfully today. Public confidence collapses when those sworn to uphold the law are themselves accused of violating it.

The recent custodial death of Ajith Kumar in Tamil Nadu similarly sparked a national debate. Different states may have different governments and different police forces, but the central question remains unchanged: Who is accountable when a citizen dies in police custody? The tears of mothers do not recognise state boundaries or political affiliations.

Another concern emerging in Andhra Pradesh is the growing perception of political influence over policing. Critics increasingly allege that police actions are shaped by political considerations rather than impartial enforcement of the law. Whether these allegations are ultimately substantiated or not, the perception itself damages public confidence.

The police owe their allegiance not to any government or political party but to the Constitution. Governments change, political parties alternate in power, and leaders come and go. The Constitution alone remains constant. When institutional neutrality gives way to political loyalty, democratic governance itself is weakened.

Political interference in policing is not unique to the present administration. Earlier governments also faced criticism over politically motivated transfers, postings, and selective law enforcement. However, recent controversies suggest that public concern has expanded beyond administrative matters to include allegations of false cases, custodial abuse, intimidation, and excessive police intervention even in civil disputes that should properly be resolved through the courts.

Responsibility for restoring public confidence cannot rest solely with the police. Political leaders must also resist the temptation to use law-enforcement agencies as instruments of political rivalry. Weakening institutional independence for short-term political advantage ultimately undermines governance itself.

The solution lies not in political blame games but in institutional reform. Independent oversight of custodial deaths, mandatory judicial inquiries in cases involving deaths in police custody, transparent investigations, protection of evidence, and stronger accountability mechanisms are essential to preserving the rule of law. Investigations conducted entirely within the police hierarchy often fail to inspire public confidence, particularly when allegations involve senior officers.

Civil society organisations, legal experts, and democratic rights groups have therefore demanded a judicial inquiry into the Sai Krishna case. Such a demand is neither political nor extraordinary. It reflects the principle that justice must not only be done but must also be seen to be done.

Mahatma Gandhi observed that the measure of a nation's civilisation lies in how it treats its most vulnerable citizens. Even those accused of serious crimes retain their constitutional rights. Determining guilt is the exclusive function of the judiciary—not the police. The police investigate; the courts judge.

The tears of Sai Krishna's mother are therefore more than a family's private sorrow. They pose a challenge to every institution committed to constitutional democracy. A mother searching for her child does not seek sympathy or condolences. She seeks truth, accountability, and justice.

Until those questions are answered, and until those responsible are held accountable through a fair and impartial process, her tears will continue to remind us that the true strength of a democracy lies not in the power of its police, but in the rule of law that governs them.