Behind the Curtain: Unmasking the Dark Web of NEET Paper Leaks and Corruption in India"

Samaranand was engrossed in a heated discussion with his assistant, Babulal, about the recent NEET paper leak. The complexity and audacity of the operation intrigued them both. Samaranand speculated that hackers had played a pivotal role in tracking the transport of the question papers across India. Babulal, always resourceful, suggested contacting a hacker through their IT expert, Soumya.

Soumya arranged a video conference with a top hacker based in Bihar, whom they contacted via the dark net. This mysterious hacker, whom they decided to call Joker, joined the call using a deep fake image. Throughout the conversation, Joker kept changing his appearance—from Gandhi to Nehru, Indira, Jayalalithaa, Trump, and Elon Musk, but notably never Bhagat Singh or Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, sending a clear message through his choices.

Samaranand, curious about Joker's background, asked why he chose the path of hacking. Joker revealed that he had studied in a Hindi medium school and excelled in mathematics. He had coached students who made it to IIT and admitted he could have pursued IIT himself, followed by IIM or even cracking the IAS examination. However, the prospect of working under less intelligent or corrupt politicians deterred him. As a hacker, he possessed incriminating

information against many IAS officers, corrupt businessmen, and doctors. For Joker, earning money was not a problem. Samaranand, intrigued, asked where he kept his money since it could be traced if stored in a bank. Joker laughed and explained that he converted his money into cryptocurrency, making it untraceable.

Samaranand then inquired how the NEET paper leak was executed. Joker replied, "It's very easy in India. Everyone has a price. You just need to find the right people in the paper distribution chain. Hack the email system to know when and where the papers are being sent. Take Jharkhand, for instance. Before the consignment reaches its destination, you bribe the guard. For a few lakhs, he'll take a photo of the paper on his mobile and send it to someone like me in Bihar."

Joker continued, "Once I have the paper, I've already identified wealthy students who aren't academically strong. My foot soldiers locate these students and bring them to a designated place. Each might pay 20 to 30 lakhs. It's cheaper than a paid medical seat, which can cost nearly a crore, or studying abroad in places like Ukraine. The night before the exam, these students cram the answers. The next day, we ensure they reach their respective exam centers. Neat, isn't it? But I don't involve myself in such activities. I target the corrupt, who have black money and won't report to the police."

Samaranand, amused, commented, "You are a Robin Hood. Do you run any charity?"

Joker replied, "Yes, some of the cash I collect goes to orphanages and old age homes through my foot soldiers."

Samaranand reflected on Joker's words. The process described seemed entirely plausible. Corruption was rampant, and finding someone willing to cooperate for money was not difficult. He recalled how his insurance agent mentioned a gentleman from the human rights commission who wanted help converting 20 crores of cash. The man likely received bribes to ignore human rights violations, such as child labor in factories.

As the conversation drew to a close, Joker's image morphed into Genghis Khan, the conqueror. Samaranand was left contemplating the depth of corruption and the lengths to which people would go for money. No wonder India ranked 93 out of 188 countries on the Corruption Perception Index for 2023. The encounter with Joker highlighted a stark reality: in a system where every alternate person had a price, such leaks and corruption were disturbingly easy to orchestrate.

Disclaimer ; It has nothing to do with the present NEET paper leak. It is figment of my imagination!

Soul searching

Soul searching

…………………

We trudged through the lanes of Deoghar towards Babadham , a sacred Hindu place of worship. The ancient temple of Baba Baidyanath is one of the twelve 'jyotirlingas' in India. Baidyanath Dham, is in  Santhal Parganas of Jharkhand.

As it happens in any Hindu place of worship soon we were surrounded by Pandas. It was irritating but I knew that it was inevitable. I looked at the crowd following us and I did a random selection. I selected an old panda with a wisp of white beard and unkempt hair in shabby gerua cloth.

I asked mischievously,” Why you guys are chasing us so much?”

“What to do? You are our crop.” He replied honestly.

“How many of you are there around this complex?”

“1000 of us depend on the pilgrims for our survival.”

“ok, let us then proceed to the temple complex.” I said to the discomfiture of my wife. She usually does not like to have a hanger on around.

The temple complex has a big yard selling all kinds of items required for puja offering. I knew these pandas have their preferred shops where they get commission and he was no exception. So it started with a basket of flowers, some sweets and of course bel leaf which is a must for Shiva Linga. Finally he took us to shop  selling water from Ganges.

For the first time I came across a shop selling graded water of Ganges. This particular shop had shelves with water of Ganges arranged like stepped gallery. The bottom most water in kansa pitcher was the cheapest and costliest was the one on the top shelf. The bottom one was from Shiva Ganga, which is a pond in Deoghar so was the cheapest. The costliest on the top was water from Gangotri, then next was Rishikesh, then from Haridwar and so on.

I reluctantly purchased the water of Shivaganga from the bottom shelf.

Thus after getting armed with puja samgri we stood in the queue. The weather was dry and winter had not yet set  in November. Finally we reached the sanctum sanatorium, a priest guided us to pay our offering to Shiva Linga.

Panda Rameshwar was all along with us. After our offering to Shivalinga I paid him the usual rate with some extra tips for him being honest. He was still hanging around with us.

Somehow after the visit of holy place I was in good mood so I inquired, “Anything more to see?”

Rameshwar hesitantly asked,” Will you be interested to visit an ashram ?”

“Whose ashram?”

“There is a sadhu who practices occult.” He said hesitantly.

I remembered to have visited such place during our visit to Tarkeshwar, those sadhus were in a crematorium ground where fresh dead bodies were being burnt. They were tantriks.

“If it is in a crematorium then we will not go.” My wife said.

“No, madam it is a very serene ashram with lots of flora and fauna, you will like the ambiance.”

“ Ok, lead us there, we have sometime before we proceed to Maithon.” We got in our taxi and he guided it to the destination.

The ashram was just outside the town, we drove through the gate on the gravel road with trees lined to a quint thatched hut. We could hear various birds chirping. A pond was visible behind the hut.

We got down from the car and Rameshwar led us to the hut.

I was surprised to find a very young sadhu sitting on a raised platform inside.

“Arey Rameshwarji come in, oh you brought some guests.” He smiled at us.

He invited us to sit on small stools which were strewn around. He asked someone to bring water for us.

Behind the sadhu there were almirahs with glass panes. I could see some scientific instruments on a table. There were canisters and bottles inside almirah. It was looking more like the chamber of a homeopathy doctor.

He was watching me closely and laughed seeing my dismayed look.

“Are you a man of science?”

“Yes, I am an engineer.”

“I am a scientist of occult science.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

I never heard such term as occult science. About occult every religion has something to say.

“Is occult a science subject?” I asked.

“When Jagadish Chandra Bose was doing research on botany then there was no subject as botany so he was known as physics professor similarly I am a master in physics and did doctorate in metaphysics but practice occult.” He answered.

“What is your subject of thesis?” I asked.

“Soul!” He replied.

“Anything to do with paranormal?” I asked

“Not really. As you know our body is mortal but our soul is immortal. I try to locate those souls.” He said solemnly.

“You mean those souls which left body.”

“You will be surprised to know that through my research I have found that the soul does not die but it disintegrates in many parts. Many religions believe in rebirth but then the number of birth would have been constant, when one dies  that soul goes in another body and another one is born so on. But in reality the population is increasing exponentially, how do we explain that? My theory  is because each soul gets fragmented after leaving the body and so enters in multiple bodies thus population increases. All the souls of the world freely migrate in stratosphere.” He patiently explained.

“Lobsang Rampa talked about astral travel of soul in his book, Third Eye. He was a British and claimed that a Tibetan lama’s soul inhibited his body. Is it something like that?” I was eager to show off my knowledge.

“Not exactly that. You see those canisters; I have captured some passing souls from Europe. I mean fragments.” He pointed to the almirah behind him.

I did not believe him but to humor him I said,” Is there fragment of Hitler’s soul  ?”

He knew I was not serious but sportively he ignored my flippant barb. He got up and brought a canister with a spout with a pump like arrangement of an inhaler.

“I could capture some of the local souls of talented people; here is one fragment of soul of a mathematician.”

“What do you do with the souls such captured?”

“These souls don’t recreate but get mixed with existing one. We inject these souls to those who need some kind of booster."

“But then a person will have multiple personality.” I queried.

“Aren’t we all having different personalities while dealing with situations, so no harm having multi soul in one body? After all our mind is the commander which is capable enough to decide which soul to use when.”

“We may become like Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde.” I said hesitantly.

“Now we are getting somewhere in the discussion.” He said with a smile and continued,"In the film Exorcist a bad soul enters the body of a girl, then the girl was having two souls." 

“How do you inject the soul?” I asked eagerly.

“It won’t be effective for you as you have a matured soul. Mostly people with disturbed child come here; I examine those young ones and then prescribe soul for them. Sometimes people with some near one dying come for soul but these souls are of no use in a dying body as the other soul which is inhibiting won’t allow any other soul to enter. It is not elixir of life. As far as injection is concerned there is elaborate method which i can not share with you.” 

My wife who was not enjoying the talk said,”It is getting late, we must leave.”

I reluctantly got up, thanked the young scholar of soul and proceeded to our car.

“Amazing story!” I told Mr Trivedi, who narrated his experience to me in my office chamber over a cup of coffee.

“Do you believe that claim of injecting soul?” I asked.

“After watching the politicians changing their color I started believing that it is not the case of change of heart but change of soul. See that young scion of a leading political party returning after a sojourn of 45 days or so  changed to a new person all together. He must have been injected with some aggressive soul.” He guffawed.

“haha, well said.” I joined him in his laughter.