She landed in Delhi on 21 April, and reportedly spent the night at her home in West Delhi. It was then that a call was placed to Special Cell of Delhi Police, who had been informed of the case earlier.
Trial Started Two Years Later Madhuri Gupta went to trial , almost two years after she was first arrested by the cops. She was jailed jailed until January , and was formally charged with violating two sections of the Official Secrets Act OSA of The OSA offences she had been booked under carried a maximum three-year sentence.
Having reportedly served 21 months in Tihar Jail in Delhi, waiting for her trial, she was released on bail. However, the Delhi High Court charged Gupta under the stringent provisions of the Official Secrets Act which entailed a maximum punishment of up to 14 years, setting aside the punishment provided by trial court.
The chargesheet filed in the case in , reportedly revealed that 73 emails were exchanged and recovered from the email account atlastrao gmail. The chargesheet reportedly noted that Gupta was an asset to her handlers, and her motivation, according to the prosecution, was love.
The main thing is, she was caught in a honeytrap. Jamshed alias Jim, one of the two handlers was a younger man, about 30 years of age. He was reportedly tasked with romancing the older woman, and obtaining information. However, for reasons unknown, she could not complete her PhD. Her main task was to reportedly scan the Pakistani media and make two daily dossiers interpreting the developments of the Urdu press.
Within six months of the posting, however, she was allegedly put under the scanner. However, the MEA was apprehensive and did not switch the posting as she was working with the Soviet Information Centre prior to joining the services. With inputs from the Caravan, Outlook. He approached the Supreme Court in , seeking criminal and disciplinary action against Kerala police officials led by Siby Mathew. They spent 50 days in jail in the case. The Kerala Police alleged that Narayanan and his colleague were involved in the spying in ISRO and leaking of sensitive documents related to rocket technology to Pakistan.
The Supreme Court accepted the report and acquitted them in the case in as reported in The Indian Express. The Supreme Court, in its wisdom, has set up a committee for the purpose but not stipulated any deadline for it. I do not want it to be another open-ended inquiry which will take years to fix responsibility.
Post a Comment. Mohanlal Bhaskar was working undercover for Indian intelligence agency RAW when he was arrested in a counter-intelligence operation by Pakistan.
Other editions. Enlarge cover. Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other :. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Jai Ratan Translator. The interrogation, which was done by the army and police, included torture of the worst kind imaginable. Many of his comrades went insane or ended their own lives.
Large portions of his stories describe the methods used in gory and spine-chilling detail but there were also lighter moments with dacoits, prostitutes, pimps and dope smugglers in the same jails Get A Copy. Kindle Edition , pages. More Details Other Editions 6. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about An Indian Spy in Pakistan , please sign up. Be the first to ask a question about An Indian Spy in Pakistan.
Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 3. Rating details. Sort order. Start your review of An Indian Spy in Pakistan. It was really great and engaging book. A memoir of an Indian spy in Pakistan. After reading many reviews that it's written in English poorly, I read it in Hindi. And it was worth of giving time. People on both sides who profess themselves as charlatan of patriotism and always eager to get on War between India and Pakistan, they should read it.
Certainly, it has horrible details, but it also has cultural, social and humane aspects of both countries. Feb 18, Harsha Kondreddi rated it it was amazing. We are living in a time, when people posing as patriots fly over our heads and drive past us in limousines.
They disappear after making high sounding speeches which are no more than empty words. How long will these hypocrites keep fooling us? The story is touching and the experiences are hair-raising. Pooja is a full-time copywriter, a passionate blogger and an aspiring novelist. She believes in power of words and absolutely loves reading books. Your email address will not be published. Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Search for. PIN IT.
Introduction: I came across this book while surfing Kindle Unlimited for a good read. Summary: This is the real story of an Indian spy, Mohanlal Bhaskar, who was on a mission to find out about the nuclear dealings of Pakistan and pass on the crucial information to the Indian authorities. Not even a leaf stirred. Then we heard Bhutto Saheb's voice: "Aslam-ulekam!
I am myself keen to meet you and I am grateful for the respect and honour that you have bestowed upon me. But what you want is not possible at this juncture. We would not like to jeopardise the interest of the jail authorities who are only carrying out their duties.
We do not want to endanger their jobs. God willing, I shall certainly meet you in the morning. I would plead with you to hold your peace till then. I hope you will pay heed to my request. Pakistan Zindabad! Nobody had a wink of sleep that night. The nambardars told us that Bhutto Saheb, Qauser Niazi, Ghulam Mustafa Khar and other leaders of the People's Party who had been brought to the jail under arrest would make a round of the barracks in the morning.
We were all waiting for the moment when we would be able to have a glimpse of this great personage who had shaken the very foundations of the military regime and kindled the spark of democracy in the hearts of the people of Pakistan. Ultimately, the man who was regarded is the messiah of the people was most outrageously sent to die gallows by Zil-ul-Haq while the people had watched it happen with a surge of important rage. Just as the murder of Gandhi had tarnished the name of the Hindus forever, in the same way the Pakistanis will not be able to wash off the blood of Bhutto from their foreheads.
The barracks started resounding with slogans which meant that Bhutto Saheb had started on his round of the jail. The prisoners were rummaging through their food tins to fish out something to present to their beloved leader.
As we learnt later he accepted the gift from each prisoner and then put it in the prisoner's mouth, shook hands with him and moved on to the next prisoner.
By and by he approached our barrack. A charismatic personality, he was accompanied by other leaders of the People's Party. When he learnt that we were Indian prisoners he stopped in his tracks and intently surveyed us. But believe me, the day our Party comes into power, God willing, you will be sent back to your country within a year. This great man stood by his word.
The Simla Agreement was a testimony to it. It was instituted within a year of his coming to power wherein it was clearly stated that along with the prisoners of war, the other civilian prisoners, whether smugglers, spies or hostages who had been arrested before the war would be exchanged between the two countries. I am sure that while making this agreement he had vividly in mind the promise he had made to us, Indian prisoners, in the Kot Lakhpat jail.
Otherwise one had rarely heard of exchange of spies between two countries. It was under the same agreement that our countrymen taken prisoners in were sent back to India along with us.
The families of those Indians can never forget this great messiah who had a big hand in their repatriation. Bhutto Saheb and his companions were lodged in the 'A' category first class barracks where the other Pakistani prisoners were not allowed to venture. It seemed the report of Bhutto Saheb's meeting with the prisoners had reached the world outside.
As a result strict security measures were enforced in the jail whereby Bhutto Sabeb could meet visitors only in the presence of the security police. But soon after that he was transferred to the Mianwali Jail and lodged in the Women's Section where later Sheikh Mujib also came to stay. On the fifth day of our arrival in jail Samund Singh and I received a note on behalf of the Superintendent of the Jail that we were wanted in his office.
The Superintendent showed me an order of the Governor of Punjab which read as follows: The Governor of Punjab is pleased to order that Mohan Lal Bhaskar alias Mohammed Aslam should be put in solitary confinement for six months on the charge of illegal activities which have proved dangerous to the security of Pakistan. This solitary confinement was imposed under Section 29 of the Defence of Pakistan Rules.
A similar order was passed against Baba Samund Singh. He was present in the jail office in mufti and had two constables with him. They blindfolded and handcuffed us after which we were driven off in a station wagon through the bazaars in the direction of Shahi Qila. Shahi Qila, Lahore: Hell on Earth. A fter a slow climb the station wagon came to a halt. They helped me down the vehicle and led me up a flight of stairs.
When they removed the bandage from my eyes I found myself standing in a big hall. Fear seemed to pervade the atmosphere as one generally experience in a suspense film. The place looked like an abode of ghosts. I could hear some sinister noises emanating from the far corners, mixed with men's screams as if they were slowly being butchered with a sharp knife. In these screams I heard a sing-song voice which I could easily recognise among a thousand voices.
I hold sway over Wagha border Where lies a big maidan swarming with pimps. I enjoy the game of killing pimps. I go after the hand-picked ones, Counting them one by one. I was pleased to hear his voice. So he was still alive. That night when they had taken him away in a jeep from FIU, Lahore I had felt that I was seeing the last of him; they might have at last decided to gun him down.
But that happy-go-lucky Khoh Singh was still alive and somewhere quite close to me. Chaudhri Manzur asked me to follow him, a man armed with a gun, walking a few steps behind me. They took me to an underground cellar and locked me up in a cell. Four blankets had been laid out for me. They also gave me tea in the evening. Here interrogation was done round the clock.
This Center resembled our Amritsar Centre. Many Indian officers have been here for a long time. The CID Special Branch of shahi Qila had come into existence in and from then on the Shahi Qila had all along remained its headquarters with branches in all parts of Pakistan. Some of the sentries who later became friendly with me told me that ten Indian prisoners had died in the Qila in the course of interrogation and many more had gone mad.
Here the prisoners are kept in twelve separate cells, all at a distance from one another. The normal pattern is: one prisoner, one cell, one sentry. A sentry is changed every three hours and this sequence continues round the clock. An officer handles only one prisoner at a time and till his interrogation is complete he does not take on another.
After the enquiry is over six officers take over that prisoner simultaneously and keep plying him with questions. A prisoner is not let off the hook until they are fully satisfied.
The Special Branch is located in the right part of the fort up a slope and is enclosed by an eight- foot high wall. The rest of the foil is open to the public to which a nominal entry fee is charged. It has an extensive green lawn where people come for picnics. The premises within the wall where the Special Branch is housed is out of bounds to the public. As the evening approaches revellers swarm to the place in large numbers. From cheap sluts to high class prostitutes whose rates range from one rupee to a thousand rupees a night, the latter doing their business on the sly in the guise of songstresses, are there for the entertainment of their customers.
Many of them decked up in finery prowl round the lawns of the fort in daytime in search of customers. Imagine the existence of torture chambers so close to this place of revellery. The Shahi Qila covers a huge area which can hold nothing short of five lakh people. An army used to be stationed here in the times of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The construction of the fort was started during the times of Emperor Shahjahan and was completed in the times of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The Shahi Masjid, another important landmark, is not far from the fort and right in front of the main gate of the fort there is Guru Arjun Dev's Gurudwara where he attained his martyrdom.
It makes one's flesh creep when one visualises how the Guru must have sat there with closed eyes intoning Wahe Guru, Wahe Guru while his tormentors poured burning sand over his bead.
Now the Gurudwara is being renovated to enhance its appearance. The underground cellar where I was lodged used to be an elephant stable during the times of Maharajas. The pachyderms used to massage their massive bodies against its four-foot thick pillars. The rays of the sun won't reach here. The only munshi clerk Bashir was the incharge of our cells. Given to tongue-lashing he would never address any one without a swear word. One evening the lock on my door was opened and I was led upstairs.
When they removed the bandage from my eyes, I found myself standing before Major Aijaz Maqsood. I salaamed him. He gestured me to take the chair and enquired about my health. After some inconsequential talk he got down to business.
He said, "Bhaskar, if you agree to add to your statement that you had met Major Arif in Gulberg that night, then I can promise on oath that I'll release you and have you sent back to your country.
Major Arif must be senior to him and probably was coming in the way of his promotion. Evidently, there was no love lost between the two and Major Maqsood wanted to fire the gun from my shoulder. I don't want to invite trouble for myself by changing the statement at this stage. Your statement is still with me. I can have it re-typed. All I need is your consent. He was trying to play dirty with one of his own brother officers.
Could anything be meaner than that? The other man's only fault was that he was senior to Major Maqsood. At that time I was in a condition to give vent to my loathing for him. He is lodged in one of the cells here. Suddenly my mind ran over the pages of history which provided the parallel to it.
Since history bore testimony to it, the treatment meted out to Amrik Singh caused me no surprise or happiness. I lack the guts to bear the curses of his family. God will never forgive me for this misdemeanour of mine. Even if you let me off, he will put me in someone else's clutches. His hands are long and far- reaching. Therefore, I crave your forgiveness.
I'm sorry I'll not be into it. Think of yourself. Think of your aged parents. And of your wife and of the child yet to be born. Where do I come into this picture? There are many other Indians whose cases are under your investigation. Why not ask one of them? He may be willing to oblige you. But please keep me out of it. Of all the Indian spies caught so far you are the most educated. His hand fell heavily on the table bell.
Sometimes goodness is its own reward. A sinner has no peace of mind. He resorts to liquor and sleeping pills to fall asleep but his own mind becomes his worst enemy. Goodness, on the other hand works like perfume on one's mind. I was in one such happy frame of mind that night. Even the old walls of the Shahi Qila shook and the hearts of the inmates of the cells sank as he bellowed at someone. They would pray in a cringing voice, "Oh God, let Gul-Anar Khan not be assigned to investigate our case!
He was a terrorist - a living terror. An old man known as Khan, who had cat's eyes was said to be adept in reading one's mind like an open book. He was held in the highest esteem by his superiors and had the last word in everything. He was a handsome young man of 28 and his mode of investigation was such that the victim automatically played like a gramophone record in his presence. If the victim faltered he would pounce upon him with the agility of a cheetah and the next moment the victim would find one of his limbs maimed.
He was very dedicated to his job and extended his investigations far into the night. One day as the birds started chirping I thought that the morning had arrived. I washed myself and sat down to pray. An hour later my door creaked and I saw Munshi Bashir standing in the door.
He asked me to come out. As usual, I was handcuffed and a gunman followed me. A shiver ran down my spine. They must be taking me to a torture chamber. I completely lost my nerve when I was pushed into the presence of Raja Gul-Anar Khan who was known as the jallad executioner of the Shahi Qila. I was going to sit down on the ground when with a nod of his bead he indicated me to take a chair. Munshi Bashir had left but the sentry was still there. By a sign he asked him to remove my hand-cuffs and leave the room.
Then he said, "Tell me one thing. What's the meaning of Bhaskar? And what's your caste? I've graduated in history. For that matter I'm myself a Chandravanshi Rajput.
My ancestors were Rajas back in Rajasthan. That was in the times of Aurangzeb who believed in oppressing the the Hindus — specially the Rajputs. My great great-grand- father who was the Raja of a small principality in Rajputana ran away from that place for dear life. His wife was pregnant at that time. His caravan was passing through the desert when she started having labour pains and she gave birth to my great-grand-father behind a green bush. Because of this green bush he came to be called Haria.
Posing as Muslims, the people constituting the caravan reached Jhangsur, Sargodha and settled there. Even now we have palatial houses there. Had it happened in Rajputana I fear he would have even been deprived of his property. It being an alien country his brothers could not have their way in this regard. True, that they were themselves Hindus once upon a time — generation after generation in fact. But the Hindus themselves were their own undoing. Another reason was that those Hindus who read the kalma and embraced Islam — just to keep up appearances — were spurned by the other Hindus and they refused to take them back into their fold.
They broke all ties with them and went to the extent of confiscating their lands and properties. And the worst of it, they refused to communicate with them, much less eat with them. The upshot was that these people took refuge under Islam and turned rabid enemies of the Hindus. He would even shy away from a Hindu's shadow. His brothers had turned their backs upon him and he and his children were debarred from entering the temple.
They did not even invite them on such festive occasions as Holi and Diwali. On the contrary, they warned their children not to accept any eatable from my great-grand-father's children. My great-grand-father tried to make his brothers see reason, he even begged of them on bent knees but that cut no ice with these custodians of the Hindu religion. The Hindu Banias constructed more, and more temples and spent lavishly to embellish them while lakhs and lakhs of Hindus starved.
This strengthened the roots of Islam in India. When they looked back into their past they decided to wreak vengeance on these selfish and narrow-minded Hindus. Those who did not even touch meat started eating beef and made it a point to do all those things that were anathema to the Hindus and would hurt their feelings.
How could they forget that once the Hindus themselves had treated them in similar manner and had rode rough shod over them? Now tell me who was at fault? Today their misdeeds have recoiled upon their children.
But not one of those spurious Brahmins. The house in a lane of Abohar where I was born had only one Hindu family living in that lane — that's mine. The rest were all Muslims.
The mid-wife who assisted my mother in bringing me into this world was a Muslim woman by the name of Raiba. Mian Irfan was my childhood friend. At the time of the partition when he came to say good-bye to me I clung to him and said that I will not let him go.
At that time my father was posted as a senior constable at the Abohar police station. With the departure of the senior Muslim police officers he was in a way, the de facto in-charge of the police station.
He engaged a bus and safely escorted all the Muslims of our lane across the border under his own supervision. Even today, Chaudhri Nisar Ahmed, Sub-Inspector of Naulakha police station will bear me out that my father was on the friendliest of terms with the Muslims.
He counted Nisar Saheb among his friends. My case was under his investigation at the Naulakha police station. When he learnt that I was Pandit Amin Chand's son tears came to his eyes. In spite of physical remand he did not even touch me, nor did he allow anyone else to take liberties with me.
He was very considerate to me. His goodness of heart can lead him to trouble. Of course, my case is different. But why was he so kind to you in spite of your being the worst enemy of our nation? Even if you know the rudiments of psychology you will get a hang of the whole thing. Chaudhri Nisar Ahmed's manifestation of love for you is the result of his regard for Hinduism which has remained dormant in him for centuries.
Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Error rating book. Refresh and try again.Born in at Abohar PunjabMohanlal Bhaskar started his career as a labourer and then as a newspaper boy. Besides the autobiographical account of his undercover work in Pakistan, he has written more than two hundred articles in Dharam Yug, Dinman,The Sunday and other magazines. Install App. Mohanlal bhaskar book pdf free download Signup. Home Categories Categories See all categories. Mohanlal Bhaskar Born in at Abohar PunjabMohanlal Bhaskar mohanlal bhaskar book pdf free download his career as a labourer and then as a newspaper boy. Juggernaut is a platform to find and read high quality, affordable books and to submit your writing. Khushwant Singh wrote in the preface to the hardbound edition published in of this true account of Mohanlal Bhaskar's mission to find out about Pakistan's. You are about to download An Indian Spy in Pakistan by Mohanlal Bhaskar hindi book pdf for free – Don't forget to like us on facebook & share with your friends to. An Indian Spy in Pakistan - Kindle edition by Bhaskar, Mohanlal, Jai Ratan. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Amazon Business: For business-only pricing, quantity discounts and FREE Shipping. An Indian Spy in Pakistan - Mohanlal Bhaskar - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. indian spy thriller. mind like an open book. But Raja Gul Anar, although a Sub-Inspector, left them all miles behind. He. Mohanlal Bhaskar is the author of An Indian Spy in Pakistan ( avg rating, ratings, 65 reviews, published ) Mohanlal Bhaskar's books. Mohanlal. An Indian Spy in Pakistan book. Read 65 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Khushwant Singh wrote in the preface to the hardbound edi. sud-ouest-tai-chi-chuan.org In a autobiographical book titled "An Indian Spy in Pakistan", wonder, how many RAW agents are operating in Tamilnadu (TN) or lurking in PDF. The name of this book itself was so captivating that I couldn't stop myself from downloading it. The poor India-Pakistan relations have always. Mohanlal Bhaskar was working undercover for Indian intelligence In a autobiographical book titled "An Indian Spy in Pakistan", wonder, how many RAW agents are operating in Tamilnadu (TN) or lurking in PDF or. It may takes up to minutes before you received it. Golper Jadukar by Ahsan Habib. Not Enabled. The last bit about Morarji Desai failing to thank their contribution shows the Govts apathy. Sharing is superb!! Search for. The interrogation, which was done by the army and police, included torture of the worst kind imaginable. Customer images. Sonar Medal By Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay. Mohanlal Bhaskar, we owe a great deal to brave hearts like you! Apart from officers, Mohanlal also meets different types of prisoners, both Indians and Pakistanis, who make his jail stay better as well as miserable. Shiv Aroor. Calling Sehmat.