New Delhi, Jul 1 (PTI) It’s been seven years since the enigmatic deaths of 11 family members in Delhi’s Burari locality on July 1, 2018. Life in the neighborhood appears to have normalcy returned. Coaching centers and shops hum with activity, yet the infamous house continues to evoke recognition and hushed curiosity.
Madan, who has worked at an ironing shop for nearly twenty years, noticed, “Sometimes, students, particularly girls from nearby academies, glance at the building, engage in whispers filled with both fear and intrigue, before turning away.”
The Chundawat family’s tragic end saw ten members hanging from an iron mesh in the ceiling while the 77-year-old family matriarch, Narayan Devi, was discovered lifeless on the floor of another room.
Among the deceased were Devi's daughter Pratibha (57), her sons Bhavnesh (50) and Lalit (45), Bhavnesh’s wife Savita (48), and their children—Maneka (23), Neetu (25), and Dhirendra (15). Also lost were Lalit’s wife Tina (42) and their 15-year-old son Dushyant, as well as Pratibha’s daughter Priyanka, who had been engaged a month prior.
Police explored various avenues including occult, psychology, and superstition, employing state-of-the-art investigation techniques to solve one of the capital’s most confounding cases.
A senior officer involved in the case stated, "Initially, a murder case was registered, but as family members were interrogated, no motive emerged. It was then that registers were uncovered, helping to dissolve the mystery." The officer added that it was a demanding task as authorities had to sift through eight registers detailing an elaborate ‘badh tapasya’ ritual resembling a banyan tree formation.
The revelation that drew significant attention involved Lalit Chundawat being allegedly 'visited' by his deceased father’s spirit, who supposedly delivered instructions.
In 2006, following his father’s passing, Lalit suffered an accident resulting in a loss of voice. After regaining his voice, he perceived communications from his father, to which he delivered sermons to his family that were recorded in the registers, the officer recalled.
Widespread media attention, conjecture, and multiple probes followed. A psychological autopsy later showed the family harbored no self-destructive intentions; it was an unintended tragedy during a ritual gone awry.
Monica, a teacher at a nearby academy, observed that while the eerie reputation of the house has diminished, occasional superstitious sentiments linger.
“The atmosphere is calm now, although some superstitious beliefs linger. Certain parents believed ailments like headaches might relate to the building. One student skipped classes, later revealing her visit to a spiritual guru instead of a doctor, claiming the incident left a lingering spirit,” she recounted.
Madan fondly remembered the family, recounting their daily presence around the lane. “The children played cricket here, promptly heading home when called, free of any fuss. Narayan Devi often sat beside me, chatting. I even spoke to her the day prior,” he reminisced.
Locals recollect Narayan Devi’s regular visits to the nearby Ram temple. "She’d come in the mornings, engage in brief conversations, and leave quietly," a resident recounted, emphasizing her soft-spoken nature and the family’s good standing in society.
Devi, a longtime domestic helper in the area, commented on their generosity, saying, “I bought milk from their shop everyday. Even without money, they provided free, demonstrating exceptional kindness.”
The Chundawat's store, offering basic goods, reflected simplicity without selling cigarettes. “They respected and trusted others. Even without money, I’d still get necessities,” another local added.
Monica’s colleague briefly taught Dushyant and Dhirendra. “They were bright, cheerful, respectful. It seems implausible that such lovely kids could face such tragedy,” she expressed.
“Everyone interacted except Lalit. They were a quiet, helpful family,” she noted.
Conspiracy theories continue to churn online, and curious visitors occasionally inquire about the location.
“Someone came last month,” a shopkeeper noted. “They questioned if it was indeed the house.”
Back in 2018, Madan, among the few aiding the grieving kin, remembered, “Many were too scared post-incident. I, alongside a Sikh neighbor, assisted during the cremation.”
A resident added, “For some time, children avoided playing in the lane due to fear.”
(Only the headline of this report may have been reworked by Editorji; the rest of the content is auto-generated from a syndicated feed.)