In the Odhav area of eastern Ahmedabad lives 45-year-old Deepak Parmar, who has been in persistent pain for nearly half his life. His body bears a bullet wound that refuses to heal — a stark reminder of the communal violence that swept through Gujarat in 2002.
“It was March 1, 2002. I was returning from work when I suddenly felt something hot pierce my back,” Parmar recalls. “It was like a searing rod. I collapsed, bleeding profusely, and then everything went black.”
It has been 23 years since, but the wound still intermittently discharges blood, pus and fluid. Exacerbating Parmar’s physical suffering is a saga of stolen identity, misplaced justice and opportunities forever lost. He is still single and survives on irregular daily wage work with no stable employment or meaningful assistance from anyone.
Born Dashrath Parmar, the then 22-year-old mason’s identity was erroneously recorded as “Deepak” as he lay unconscious in Shardaben Hospital.
This administrative error would compound his troubles for years to come. “I don’t know who made the error, but it turned my life upside down,” he laments.
To make matters worse, that bullet made him an accused. Authorities booked him for rioting and murder of an unknown man whose body was found two kilometres away from where Parmar was shot. “While I was fighting for my life in a hospital, I was branded as a murderer,” he says.
Parmar remained bedridden for three years while simultaneously battling these false accusations. When he finally regained some strength, an NGO helped him set up a small pan shop named ‘Godhrakand Pan Parlour’. But even this attempt to rebuild his life was met with hostility. “Locals objected to the name, and soon, the municipal corporation dismantled my shop. My only means of survival was snatched away,” he says bitterly.
The legal battle dragged on for seven years until 2009, when the court acquitted him due to lack of evidence. But his freedom has failed to undo the damage. “For 14 years, the wound used to bleed intermittently. Some friends finally pooled money for my surgery, but even now, the pain has not left me,” he says.
Still single, Parmar has spent the past two decades scraping by on daily wages, with no stable job or relief in sight. “That bullet stole my youth, my strength and my dignity. I want to move on, but this wound won’t let me forget. I have been bleeding for 23 years,” he adds.