On January 7, a teenage boy’s headless body was found near a cremation ground on the road to Bhagwanpur village in the Raigarh district of Chhattisgarh. Next to the headless corpse, were strewn earthen lamps, incense sticks, sindoor (vermillion), flowers and a bhoj-patra (plate).

The episode left the police in Raigarh baffled. Was it a case of human sacrifice? That, too, in a district that the Chhattisgarh government has been promoting as the state’s culture capital. Who was the victim? And who had committed the gruesome act?

The police, after three days of investigation, were nowhere close to solving the case. Pictures of the head, which had been found by then, were shown to people. The CCTV footage was examined.

The police force’s efforts finally paid off when the identity of the victim was established by a shopkeeper, says Sanjeev Shukla, Superintendent of Police, Raigarh. The teenaged boy was Chandan Bharti — 12-year-old son of Ranvijay Bharti (38), who had migrated to Chhattisgarh from Uttar Pradesh and settled in Bhagwanpur village some 15 years ago.

But Bharti was nowhere to be found. So, a police team was sent to Chatona, his native village in Azamgarh district of UP. There, with the help of the local police, Bharti was traced and nabbed, and brought to Raigarh, informs Shukla.

On questioning, Bharti spilled the beans. At a press gathering, outside the SP’s office in Raigarh on January 11, he narrated his story: He said he had migrated to Chhattisgarh to earn a living, but every business he ventured into failed. Soon he found himself in deep financial trouble. His last venture, civil and mechanical contract work, also went bust. Bharti stated that his wife’s health had also been deteriorating during this time.

It was then that Bharti said he chanced upon “Indrajal”, a book on black magic, at a friend’s house. Curious, he leafed through the book, which stated that by practising tantra-mantra, anyone can change his or her fortune.

Bharti said he stole the book and over the next few days, he read the book again and again, cover to cover. He became convinced that black magic was the answer to all his prayers. He practised every step mentioned in the book for nine months, and then went for the coup de grace: Human sacrifice.

Bharti said he found the right candidate in his 12-year-old son and that he plotted and planned to behead Chandan. Bharti admitted at the press conference that he took an unsuspecting Chandan to the cremation ground. The book had stated that to be a success, the human sacrifice must be carried out at the “shamshan”.

“After reading the book, I was convinced that this special puja was the only way to end my miseries. So I beheaded my son,” Bharti admitted to the startled police.

“This was very serious, in many ways unbelievable, but it also showed how superstition can turn people into devils,” says SP Shukla.

While the mainstream media put the practice of Jallikattu and barring women from entering temples in the spotlight all of last month, the January 7 episode generated little discussion. The practice of “black magic” and its continual stranglehold on Indian society warrants media focus, especially because in certain cases it can lead to gruesome crimes.

The National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) recorded two instances of human sacrifice in Karnataka in 2014. During the same year, the country recorded 16 such deaths, according to a report in The Hindu.

Such superstitions are widely prevalent, however, only a few incidents come to light. “Most of these cases occur in tribal areas, which never gets highlighted due to lack of evidences,” says Rahul Gopal, former Director General of Police of Maharashtra.

More alarming is the fact that state governments seem hardly concerned. Except two — Maharashtra and Assam — no state has a law against black magic and superstitious beliefs.

The Assam Witch Hunting (Prohibition, Prevention & Protection) Bill, became an Act in 2015. And the Maharashtra Prevention and Eradication of Human Sacrifice and other Inhuman, Evil and Aghori Practices and Black Magic Act, in August 2013. Narendra Dabholkar, a rationalist who spearheaded the anti-superstition movement in Maharashtra for 18 years, was murdered the same year.

The very fact that “Indrajal” continues to be published and sold is proof of the state’s apathy and ineffectiveness. Indrajal and its clones are easily available online.

A simple Google search throws up hundreds of variants of Indrajal for sale online. Some of these are also available on popular e-commerce websites such as ebay and Amazon. This particular site appears to have hundreds of books on black magic.

A closer look at these sites shows how popular these books are. One such book available for purchase online is Brihad Indrajaal, which has got 16,000 hits in the last one month.

Another book available online is Asli Tantrik Athi Pracheen Mahaindrajaal, which has got 4,300 odd views. The book, available in Hindi and Sanskrit, is a ready reckoner on various mantras used to treat health ailments, attract somebody, make life hell for enemies, and ward off evil spirits.

It even gives a DIY method to “Kill Your Enemy”. The “infallible” procedure is explained in detail, “which needs to be followed for three days following which the enemy will get high fever and end up dead.”

Who should be held responsible?

The law per se is not clear in this matter. Subject experts say there are too many exceptions to the rule that provide for punishing authors and publishers of such books.

“A reader can treat a book in any manner he or she wants, but how can a publisher be responsible for a crime committed? Writing or publishing a book can’t be equivalent to abetting a crime,” says spokesperson of Manas Publications, a New-Delhi based publisher, who did not want to be named.

Our job is limited to editing the language and grammar. Even if the author is held accountable, a publisher cannot be held liable since there is a clear agreement between the author and the publisher, citing the same, he says.

Rupesh Agarwal from Shri Thakur Prasad Pustak Bhandar, Uttar Pradesh (publisher of

Asli Pracheen Mahaindrajaal), states, “These books are sacred and are based on ancient practices by our sages (rishi/muni). You can’t hold the publisher or the author responsible because we are presenting the content, which has been there since time immemorial. The author in this case, is in fact the translator. We, as publishers just reform the existing content.”

On the question of incidents of human sacrifices propagated through some of these books, Agarwal says, “If an unqualified person reads a book on medicine and treats a patient or performs a surgery, can you blame the author? More importantly, if you read this book [Indrajaal] with wrong intentions, your efforts won’t show results.”
 
Does that means publishers can get away without being punished? Perhaps not, going by what Venkatesh Bubberjung, a Bangalore-based senior lawyer and former state public prosecutor, has to say on the issue. “If there is a publication that promotes such activities and if a person follows instructions  which result in the commission of an offence, punishable under the Indian Penal Code (IPC) or any other special law, the author, publisher and seller can be prosecuted for abetment to said offence.”

While there are provisions within IPC to punish publishers and authors of such books, there are exceptions too, which helps them go scot-free, Aman Madan, a Supreme Court lawyer says.

“The clause of disclaimer at the beginning of the books is what saves them [author and publisher] from attracting punishment under the laws of the land. Authors cleverly defend their rights to express to escape,” says Gopal.
 
The online description of one such book starts with a disclaimer: “This book is published in the hope that readers are benefited. But if someone decides to misuse it, how can the publishers be held responsible?”

So, should they be banned?

“We are calling for an anti-superstition Bill in Karnataka to tackle this issue,” says rationalist and president of the Federation of Indian Rationalist Associations, Narendra Nayak Nayak.

“What we need is education; I am not talking about literacy, but actual awareness and the ability to reason. Not just in rural areas, such blind beliefs and superstitious practices are rampant even among the urban population and the educated class,” says Nayak.

“We have people in seats of power and influential positions who believe in godmen and superstitious practices. This mindset with access to technology is a lethal combination,” Nayak adds.

While education can certainly help, there is a strong case for state governments to review books that abet murder and call on people to commit crimes, like in the Chhattisgarh case. The media can help by reporting consistently on such occurrences to generate a wider public debate on the issue. A good start, of course, would be for news channels to stop airing shows with Babas and Munis, perpetuating blind faith and superstition.