All language subtitles for House.of_.Secrets.The_.Burari.Deaths.S01E03.Beyond.11.720p.NF_.WEB-DL.DDP5_.1.Atmos_.x264-NPMS_track3_eng

I don't think we have ever met
or will ever meet such an amazing family.

The love that they gave us
was unparalleled.

She is my elder sister,
Sunita Mehta is her name.

She is my sister-in-law.

My husband was friends with Lalit.

Slowly our family and their family
became like an extended family.

Our kids also loved their kids.
They were very attached to each other.

My son Karan and her son Vishwa…

These are the gifts
that Monu (Menaka) gave to Karan.

Such was her love for my son.

How can someone
love their brother so much?

Each of these gifts was created by her.

When you open them
you realize how unique each one is.

"Happy Birthday Brother."

This is all Menaka's creativity.

Menaka was a very good girl,

very intelligent.

She wanted her life to be meaningful.

She had no clue that
something like this would happen to her.

She did not send me the cards one by one,

but gave me this whole lot on my birthday.

She was so attached to me
that she wanted to surprise me.

She actually made all these cards
herself for my birthday.

Our bond was stronger
than a brother-sister can ever have.

Sometimes it hits me

that she is no more.

But then, I have to accept it.

It felt like something
had changed in my son.

I slept in his room for days.

I wouldn't leave him alone.

He would keep saying,
"This cannot happen to Monu."

"Mamma, why did they do this?
Why did Lalit Uncle make them do this?"

Only God has these answers.

What happened?
Why did this happen? How did this happen?

It just doesn't make sense.
Don't cry, Parveen. Please don't cry.

Our legacy is the beautiful memories
that the family left us.

I'm actually surprised
that more conversations have not happened

about what exactly happened in Burari.

Talking about this
in thoughtful reflective fashion,

not shutting ourselves off,

can then help foster future conversations.

Obviously some things went,
clearly, very, very wrong.

This was all a creation of Lalit's mind.

There was obviously
something going on in his head for years,

and he was entangled in his own creation.

He was playing
with their minds psychologically,

right from the beginning.

I think what happened
to the whole family was very unfair.

Don't consider
these evening prayers a joke.

And stay away from people
that you have been forbidden to talk to.

Every time you default, Lalit,
Tina and Shivam have to pay the price.

But you always forget that.

If anyone defaulted,
or did not follow his instructions,

or did not follow the instructions
in the diary, they were punished.

It's a blessing that God
is making you aware of your mistakes.

For a whole year,
starting December, you will be punished.

This year will be your last.

His situation was getting worse.

This shift tells me

that he felt in many ways
so out of control,

that he couldn't carry it any further.

That he had come to the end
of his tether, so to speak.

Lalit was instrumental in this.

He succeeded because

he successfully positioned himself
as the patriarch.

So, everybody was bound to follow.

One person is responsible
for all of them ending up like this.

Lalit.

Just because of you,
everybody has lost their life.

As per the revelations
from the police investigations,

the youngest son, Lalit, instigated
the whole family to commit a mass suicide.

What is tragic is that
it's only presented as the bizarre.

Because there are other things
also going on in this incident,

but it's only presented
as something sensational,

as something terribly voyeuristic.

That you can't stop watching
because it's so bizarre.

Piercing through the deafening silence,
we bring you this sensational scoop.

The truth uncovered
from Burari's Death House!

The media has different approaches
to cover these kinds of cases.

We have seen it in the past,
and this will continue in the future.

But do you agree with
the way cases like this are reported?

You will get me in trouble.

Okay.

Sensationalized reporting is something
I do not agree with.

Some reporters had approached it
that way in this case,

and hyped up their coverage.

Was this murder
that the police aren't looking at?

What about a possible "Baba"
being involved?

Were these pipes installed
to help the 11 souls escape?

One of the things
that clearly happened with this case

and which is why
we know so little about it,

is that it was reported
in this, sort of, crime drama way.

It was reported as a story of numerology,

of this, sort of,
almost tantrik dimension to it.

And I think it was an early heralding

of the kind of rubbish

that broadcast journalism
in the mainstream TV space

has descended to in India.

The media reported
that screams were heard from the house

that people have seen ghosts.

People were vicariously enjoying
the fake and hyped-up news.

The media was feeding that demand.

They added all the spices
and lies to sell their news.

You, as a reporter, need to be objective,
sensible about what you're reporting.

And in the Burari case,
it was more important because,

you are dealing with this bizarre case
that is not making sense

which has all these sorts of things
that need to be dealt with sensitivity.

The collective salacious appetite
for scandal

comes from the kind
of "othering" of dysfunctionality.

It's much easier to pretend

that this happens to other people
and it doesn't happen to you.

And here is this entire family
that hangs itself,

or at least that's what we are told,
and we know literally nothing about it?

No one actually ever told us
why or how this happened.

And none of us went back
to try and follow it up?

It just fell off the map.

Their father's name was Bhopal Singh.

He was a very simple man.
He didn't smoke or have any vices.

We were the oldies. We'd sit and chat.

He often shared
his memories of Tohana with me.

His days in farming,
the prosperous milk business he had.

They had cows and buffaloes
on their farm as well.

This eight acres of land around us,

it all belonged to Bhopal Singh.

He sold it to us in 1988-'89.

My name is Gurdayal Singh.

These two are my brothers.

My elder brother's name is Karam Singh.

My younger brother's
name is Gurcharan Singh.

His nickname is Tari.

When he met my father,
they had an instant connection.

They considered each other brothers.
There was so much love between them.

He had made a dairy in his farm as well.

After that he worked hard
as a labourer and brought up his children.

Then they purchased a tractor.

They started doing farming on the land.

But then he spent all his earnings
on his children's marriages.

He told my father that they had run
into major debts after the marriages.

At that point they sold their land to us.

After selling the land, he said,
"I have no means left to survive now."

He said, "My children lived
a prosperous life here,

but in this community,
I can't afford a downfall in status."

So they decided that since relatives
were in Delhi, they should also go there.

Bhopal Singh was a very nice man.

We used to address him as "uncle."

He always spoke to the point.

He wasn't narrow-minded, in fact,
he was a very broadminded person.

He wasn't strict at all.

Back then, the family lived here
very happily.

Lalit was a naive and mischievous boy.

He was very naughty.

The youngest child is always pampered.

Lalit, being the youngest,
was everyone's favourite.

Lalit, Chander and I,

we were in 12th grade and we drank beer.

We didn't miss a chance
to hang out and drink beer.

We would talk late into the night.

Lalit would drive the conversation always.

He used to go on and on
about the past or the future.

He would keep talking and entertaining us.

We were not connected by blood.
Our relationship was beyond that.

He was a true friend to me.

When I first met him,
he had already met with an accident.

I don't remember exactly, but I think

Lalit's first accident
was a bike accident.

He was hospitalized for quite a few days.

He was supposed to take his exams,

but he was in the hospital
and could not take his exams.

I spoke to his parents and learned

that Lalit had suffered
from serious head injuries at that time.

I remember that he used
to fall asleep all the time.

Right in the middle of a conversation,
he would go to sleep.

So that was his first accident,

during which, he was admitted
for quite a few days.

After he moved to Delhi,
he met with another accident.

Actually, I cannot call it an accident.
It was an attack on his life.

The people who attacked him
intended to kill him.

That's when he lost his voice.

Lalit worked in a plywood shop
in the suburbs across the Yamuna river.

He had a dispute
with his employer about his payment.

They had a fight about it.

We heard that Lalit was locked
inside the store and it was set on fire.

Nobody knew what
the attacker's intention was,

but they thrashed him badly
and locked him in the plywood shop.

They burnt the boxes of plywood
that were kept there.

When he gained consciousness,

he realized that plywood
had fallen on him.

The wood got stuck on his shoulder.

He removed his phone from his pocket
and called his brother.

"I have been attacked!"

"They have injured me
and locked me in the shop."

"Come soon. They have
set the shop on fire."

Someone actually planned that attack.
They must have hated him.

It was considered
to be an attempt to murder.

It was near fatal,
it was assumed he was dead.

He had already suffered a head injury,

but after this second incident,

the smoke entered into his lungs.

Because of this, he lost his voice.

When I used to visit him during that time,

I saw an able, good-humoured man
who was shut down.

He had to write his thoughts
to communicate with us.

He quit his job.

His entire family was in despair,

as he was the sole earning member
of the family.

Lalit's son was born
when he couldn't speak,

and I used to think

that it must be so difficult for Lalit,
that he can't call his son by name.

I believed that he had
really lost his voice.

Never had reason to doubt it.

That's highly unlikely

unless the person has had a stroke
or a bleed in the brain,

which has managed
to affect the speech centre.

Or there is physical damage
by trauma or disease

to the larynx, to the voice box.

I don't believe there is
any evidence of either.

Had he really lost his voice?
Or was he putting on an act?

I can't say for sure.

The family chose to bury that episode.

His mother also asked me
not to discuss it with him.

"It's best we forget it
and not mention it ever."

Gradually, we all made an effort
to forget that episode.

To recover from that
requires a fair amount of healing.

Physical healing. Emotional healing.

And especially since
after the accident he didn't speak,

it seemed that he had lost his voice.

Did he really lose his voice?
We don't know.

Or at a deep psychological level,
the trauma was so great

that he just decided
that he wasn't going to speak anymore.

Because it was just too painful.

And nobody treated his PTSD,
which was after that fire.

Nobody treated it.

After the accident,
the doctor had suggested that

Lalit should be taken to a psychiatrist.

The family told us also

that they were advised
to take Lalit to a psychiatrist.

But people believe that
only "mad" people go to a psychiatrist.

But he was mentally ill.
They should have taken it seriously.

The psychological literature suggests

that when a person
has been through a fair amount of trauma,

and if you're not treated
from that trauma,

a certain level of psychosis sets in.

Psychosis is the inability of the mind

to deal in a rational way

with what's going on in your life.

And one of the direct results
of psychosis is hearing voices.

Then there is the loss of his father.

After Daddy ji passed away,

one day, Lalit heard
his father's voice telling him

to recite the Hanuman Chalisa
every single day at 10:00 in the evening.

"Lalit will regain his voice."

They made this into a routine.
They prayed at 7:00 in the morning,

12:00 noon, and then 10:00 in the night.

But Lalit didn't get his voice back
immediately, it took one year.

They were reciting Hanuman Chalisa
when Lalit suddenly started singing.

Hearing this, everyone else
stopped singing,

and Lalit took the song to completion.

In a trance, Lalit did not realize
that he was the only one left singing.

They called, excited, to inform us
that Lalit got his voice back.

"Right in between our prayers.
Daddy was right!"

Lalit had mentioned to me

that all this is happening
because of the blessings of Daddy.

But he never mentioned
about his father's spirit.

The fact that the spirit
was speaking through him.

He used to share everything with me,
but he never spoke about all this to me.

After the father left,
no one was in a position of authority.

Their mother was bedridden,

and the elder brother
did not take much initiative,

so Lalit had to somehow
hold the family together.

Which he did remarkably well.

In the last 11 years,
nobody has ever been hurt.

Except for this time.

As their financial condition improved,
their belief system became concrete.

The result was that
they developed a blind faith in Lalit.

From the time that his voice came back,

to the time, of whatever diaries
we have some pages of,

he was slowly building up,
"This is what our father is telling us."

"This is what we need to do."

Telling everybody to behave
in a certain manner

and be restricted in that manner.

And everybody was believing him.

They started praying, and God
started answering their prayers.

Whatever Lalit said or asked them to do,

was believed to be
Daddy's wishes that had to be fulfilled.

This, in turn, empowered Lalit even more.

So there's an entire, sort of, formula

by which he becomes the idealized,

somewhat scary authority figure.

And, you know, everyone just does
what he asks them to do.

And it was like a little cult
inside of that family.

If you would go through
the beginnings of any cult,

the so called leader of the cult,

needs to demonstrate by
the performance of an extraordinary feat,

which is usually
against the laws of nature,

that he is in possession of supernatural
or superhuman capabilities.

The regaining of the voice

is the performance of that feat.

You can't execute anything in a cult
unless there is complete submission.

This kind of social isolation was created
that you're not supposed to have fun.

You're only supposed to enjoy,
"in a manner" enjoy

the religious stuff that
was happening in the house.

Whatever we found in the written material,

it's repeatedly mentioned that,
"Nobody will disobey what's written here."

And it suited them in the past.
The quality of their lives improved.

They expanded from one shop to two.

The notes directed them
to invest money in certain places,

which was successful.

Arranging marriage for the daughter.
That worked too.

When they followed the instructions,
the family made significant growth.

That bolstered their belief
in it so much that

whatever power is guiding them,
they were compelled to follow it.

He was slowly creating
some impact on everybody.

And everybody was believing him.

And they thought
that was the best way of life.

He must've been telling them,
"Our secrets must remain between us only."

We often raise our kids in the same way

when we tell them not to discuss
domestic matters with the outside world.

"What will people say"
is what matters to us.

So people believe it.

And lots of us who actually believe

that secrets of the house
should remain secret.

There are always multiple life events,

but there is a trigger which finally
gets them into psychosis.

Was he feeling that there's going to be

some problem happening
with this engagement?

If this Priyanka goes away,
will the world come to know

something else is happening in the family?

That means, "Maybe we're in danger."

And suddenly realizing that
now she's going to go away

and the world is going to come to a halt.

If you call this
a personal kingdom of Lalit,

and a very, very important part
of that kingdom

was going to leave the family.

So, it was the forbidden kingdom for him.

And nobody was allowed to leave.

I had noticed that a few days
prior to Priyanka's engagement,

Lalit's behaviour had changed quite a bit.

He was more reserved than usual.

Lalit would turn away from us
to avoid conversation.

When the children were rehearsing
a dance for Priyanka's engagement,

I asked Lalit how the rehearsal
was coming along.

Lalit ignored me and then got up and left.

So his behaviour had changed drastically.

I had asked Priyanka on one of our walks

if Lalit was okay?

She hesitated and said yes.

I pointed out that he wasn't talking much.

She said Lalit had a throat problem.

I asked if he was taking medicines,
and she said, yes, he was.

I found it very weird.
I'd never seen him this dull, ever.

He was sleeping all night
and then all day.

After the engagement,
he slept for days on end.

I even asked Tina that, "What happened
to Lalit? Why is he sleeping so much?"

She told me he's suffering
from some nerve pain.

"He's had his medication
and gone to sleep."

I didn't bother after that.

But I found it really weird
that he was sleeping so much.

I even called Lalit after that.

Tina received the call,
she told me that Lalit's still sleeping.

I told her that's exactly
what I wanted to discuss with him.

Why is he sleeping so much?

Tina told me not to worry.

That was the last time we spoke.

This was my first experience with death.

For a week, I was so scared.

I wouldn't be in my room alone.
I didn't want to be by myself.

In my dreams, I would see them.
I still see them sometimes.

I saw them a few months ago.

It was night time.

In my dream,
I found myself standing on the roof.

My sister and me.
Jokingly we started calling out names.

And we saw Dhruv standing there
like he used to when he was alive.

Just standing there. Normally.

"Dhruv! Dhruv!" We screamed a few times.

He shouted back, "Tell me,
Jatin, what's up?"

Just then, I woke up scared.

I especially remember
Dhruv and Shivam at night.

That's the time we used to play together.

How do I define this incident?

Okay.

It's not a crime.

They had no intentions to die,

so it cannot be called suicide.

Whatever they did, they did willingly.
So it cannot be a murder.

What do we call it?

It's a damn good question,
what do we call it?

Everything points at suicide.

But can we say for sure
that it was suicide?

-Yes.
-Or incidental death?

Accidental death, I mean.
If you look at the page in the diary,

it said, "Everyone will
help each other in untying."

But that never happened.

They were expecting
to survive this ritual.

We believe it was accidental.

This is not a murder. This is not suicide.

-Accidental death.
-This is accidental death.

When the ground investigation
was complete,

then it was decided that
we should go for something

which is called a psychological autopsy.

A group of scientists,
including a psychologist,

they go into the psyche
of the people who have died

to find out how it happened
or why it happened.

All of this was examined
in the psychological autopsy.

Basically, Lalit had
the problem, psychosis.

And then Lalit transmitted it
to the family,

making it a case of shared psychosis.

They believed everything Lalit would say.

So considering all of this,

the psychological autopsy

concluded that they were
not planning to commit suicide.

This is not a suicide.

This is a ritual, which went bad,
and they lost their lives.

It's very, very easy
to just start giving snap explanations,

including things like, you know,
collective psychosis, which I thought was…

Which is probably true, maybe.
But it's sort of a catch-all phrase

which just says everything
and doesn't say anything at the same time.

Uh, it has the value of satisfying people

in that world
where everyone wants certainty.

Whereas, actually, what you need
to live with is

that you don't know the answers.

So it would be better to just say,

that, "This is how we imagine
this event might have taken place."

"These are the things
we think might have happened."

Instead of…

What is it called?
A Psychological Autopsy?

What we really need
is a sociological autopsy.

At the heart of it, there seems to be

this mass resistance
to talking about mental health

because we have
stigmatized these conversations.

I think that is the reason why,

a lot of times,
we never find out the truth.

I think the society
does need to have these discussions.

Not having those conversations
is perhaps not an answer.

The trouble is that unless we have
those unsettling difficult conversations,

this might happen, again.

They handed over the bodies
to us the next day in the evening.

Dinesh had also arrived by that time.

Dinesh and I identified
and took custody of the bodies.

Looking at the bodies and carrying them…

We cannot forget that.

It was a difficult and horrible moment

when they made us identify each body
by showing us the face.

The moment we got
the approval for the cremation,

we took the bodies from the mortuary.

We had already covered an entire block
on Nigambodh Ghat (cremation ground).

The area had space
to accommodate 12 to 15 cremations.

All the formalities,
from priest to making the pyre ready,

we did in advance.

At the cremation centre

there were so many people.

Their friends, family,
relatives, neighbours.

Everyone was there.

Yet it was not enough people.

There weren't enough priests.

We weren't able to provide
a priest per body.

We wanted…

that every ritual is done justice to.

Nothing should fall short.

So it was decided to appoint
a single senior priest for all bodies.

And get him to perform all of the rituals.

That's when my mother and I
saw Tina for the last time.

Lalit.

Shivam.

We told them,

at least let us see their faces
for the last time.

So they showed us their faces.

That's the last time I saw her.

My mother cried inconsolably.

The final rites are usually done
by a son or grandson.

Only selected few of the family
are supposed to do the ritual.

There weren't 11 relatives present
for the cremation to be done all at once.

Dinesh lit the pyre for one body
and then moved to the next.

I was looking at Dinesh, the brother.

One by one, he did the rituals.
He'd cry, then had to go to next body.

His son was doing it for another body.

Something that, I think,
nobody should go through.

For the first time in my life,

I saw the last rites
of 11 family members together.

Lord Krishna had said to Arjun…

"Hey, Arjun, our mind cannot be corroded."

"It cannot be destroyed or killed.
It is indestructible. It is immortal."

Our tears had dried up.

But we were all thinking
about the fond memories from the past.

But I will never…

I will never let go of those memories.

The memories will always remind me…

of the void they left behind.

I got to know from you
that their eyes were donated.

I finally see some light.

At least there is some closure.

A small sigh of relief.

Whenever a death takes place somewhere,

the surviving family needs
to be counselled

and motivated to donate
the eyes of the deceased.

I salute Mr. Dinesh that he kept himself
composed in such a situation

and made this choice on the same day

when three generations
of his family had perished.

Even in that condition, he thought that…

…if he donates the eyes,
it will somehow keep his family alive.

It makes me feel so angry
and sad at the same time.

I wish that one of the children
had given me even a hint.

They all had taken some kind of oath

that they'll not share
this secret with anyone.

Whatever secret
the 11 family members were hiding,

died with them that night.

They were good, normal people.
They still are for us.

A lot has changed after their deaths.

Our shops were right across
from each other.

We would see Bhuvnesh
or Neetu at the shop.

Now we don't see them.

Imagine, our best days were yet to come.

Our kids were growing up.
We would have celebrated their weddings.

We could have been together.

After the death of these 11 people,

we suffered major losses.

The area has been disgraced a lot.

Our shop was closed for nearly a year.

We just couldn't get anyone to come.

With time, all will be forgotten.

New people will move in. We will move on.
That's the law of the world.

The urge to find answers

which will stitch this up neatly

and suddenly make sense of 11 people dead,

is very strong.

Sadly, they may or may not exist.

The closure is elsewhere.

Every case has an ending.

But here, there are
many unanswered questions,

and those will always remain unanswered,

because there is no one
to tell us what happened.

I think I relived each and every moment
of covering that story.

All of it.

And tonight, when I go back home,

I think I'm gonna
think about it for a while.

It's gonna stay.

It's already been a year.

But this conversation
took me back in time, to last year.

I relived all my emotions and conflicts
from that time. All over again.

Till today, people constantly
ask me about this case.

It's still a mystery for them.

Even though, they've read
about it in newspapers.

They've seen it on news.
They know about it.

All the family is gathered here.

But they want to know the "real truth."
I say, there's no other truth.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Some people just won't
accept the theory that is out.

Every case is different.

We put our heart and soul
into catching the culprit.

I feel very happy when a case is solved.

And we solved this case.

That's it.

I wonder what they
were thinking that night?

Why did they submit to this madness?

Something was definitely
going on in their minds.

I stopped believing in God.

Parveen, my wife, tells me
that I was never a believer,

but now I am a total atheist.

This episode played a major role in this.

If something like this could happen,
where was God?

If God existed, he would have
given at least one of them some wisdom

neighbouram or shout for help
so that a neighbour may have heard them.

Where was God then?

The secrecy with which this happened,

it speaks of the lack
of interconnectedness

of society.

So society actually needs
to have these conversations,

even if they're unsettling,
because telling the story of these people

is in itself…

giving closure…

both for them, and for us.