It is still an 18-hour day for supercop Kiran Bedi, a year after voluntary retirement. She tells Abhilasha Ojha about TV, radio and, well, fear
Kiran Bedi’s mobile doesn’t stop ringing through the course of our interview. “It’s the schedule for the new show that I’m doing,” she explains, peering attentively into the screen of her mobile phone. One of the most celebrated — and controversial — police officers of her time, Bedi, who left the service more than a year ago, is still a very busy woman. She’s packing her bags for Dubai, for a film festival which will feature a documentary on her, Yes Madam, Sir. Then, she’s also doing Aap Kee Kachehri: Kiran Ke Saath, a show on Star Plus, which brings forth real-life disputes and offers solutions. “I’m the judge who listens to complicated cases and offers my judgment,” she says.
For those of you who haven’t yet watched the programme (Monday-Thursday, 10.30 pm), the cases, so far, have indeed been complex. The protagonists have included two sisters involved in a property dispute, claiming to be married to the same man, no longer alive, a woman who wants her husband to start paying maintenance allowance to herself and her little daughter, and a mother who accuses her son of fleecing her. Bedi keeps angers under control while helping people arrive at logical conclusions. “We move ahead only after a case has been resolved,” says Bedi.
Post-retirement, Bedi lives in New Delhi’s Uday Park area. “I put all my savings in the house and shifted with my father just two months ago,” she says. Her husband is in Amritsar (“he’s very understanding, doesn’t bother me at all”), while her daughter is married and settled in Pune (“she and her husband bring out a magazine and also make documentaries”). But living arrangements apart, the poster girl of the Indian Police Force admits to a few other changes too that she’s witnessed. Like most of us, she is still responding to the recent terror attacks in Mumbai. Bedi admits that, these days, she lives, perpetually, with her fingers crossed for her loved ones. “Today,” she laughs dryly, “we live in times where there are more mental wars, wars that affect our minds. And though there have already been two world wars, we are moving swiftly towards violence with more bloodshed that ever.”
I sense that we are at a point in our conversation where Bedi is reacting as a mother, an expert and as an ordinary citizen, all at the same time. “Even though fear threatens us,” she says a little more confidently, “it is also forcing us to come together.”
Bedi’s own expertise says that the Mumbai terror strikes have been a turning point. “One more incident like this and, trust me, the government, our neighbours and the citizens on both sides of the border will be in severe trouble. What’s more, she adds, “We also don’t know what dimension this violence will take, aerial, nuclear… who knows. We’ve taken so much time to get galvanized and now reached such a stage that we need to govern ourselves much better.”
Governance and building resources is something that Bedi has been widely credited with in her professional life. “Posting after posting”, she laughs, “I encashed my goodwill, lost friends, lost promotions but created resources,” she says. Whether it was setting up a bread unit in Tihar (for which Bedi loaned out some of her Magsasay award money), educating 10,000 prisoners, creating a unit of cops on a 40-km road from the Goa airport to Fort Aguada or removing broken-down vehicles in Delhi (“I managed to hire cranes and was given the name ‘crane’ Bedi during the Asian Games”), she has always managed to deliver against all odds. “The government only gave me resources for aata, dal, chai patti and salaries — not enough for reforms,” she says.
And though, at that time, Bedi had a packed schedule, she says, she was lucky to return to a home which was simple, forward thinking and extremely caring, loving and accommodating, especially for the sake of her daughter.
Today, Bedi's days are “overpacked” — with 15 days in a month reserved solely for the shooting of Aap Ki Kachehri. Then, there’s her radio show on Meow 104.8 FM, columns in various national dailies, her NGO work (she runs two of them) and, of course, her daily workout schedule which is sacrosanct. In fact, Bedi usually tries to take late night flights so she can wake up for workouts in her own home. “I’m not too fussy,” she says, laughing that instead of her managing the home, her home manages her. “I can eat a cheese toast for breakfast and cheese toast for lunch, what’s the big fuss?” she laughs.
Her only indulgence is watching films, as and when she finds the time. On her recent trip to Ahmedabad, she realised that she had three hours to herself and that’s when she ended up watching It’s a Wednesday, a film that ironically talks about terrorism. “I’m a great fan of Gandhigiri films, Taare Zameen Par, Rang de Basanti, films that offer some sort of change.”
Change, after all, is what Bedi’s always strived for.
