Bhopal: What was once a fiery courtroom dialogue from a Hindi film has turned into a heartbreaking real-life saga.
“Yahan insaaf nahi milta… milti hai toh bas tareekh pe tareekh, tareekh pe tareekh,” Sunny Deol thundered in a courtroom scene years ago. Today, those words echo hauntingly in the life of Mithilesh Srivastava, a 79-year-old widow from Gwalior, who has spent five decades fighting for her rightful pension.
Since her husband’s death in 1985, Mithilesh has been surviving on a provisional pension of just ₹33 per month — a figure so small it barely covers a loaf of bread, let alone sustains a life.
Her husband, Shankarlal Srivastava, served the Madhya Pradesh Police for 23 years before resigning in 1971. After his death, Mithilesh began the long and painful process of claiming his pension, gratuity, and retirement benefits. But her repeated pleas to government offices were swallowed by bureaucratic red tape, missing files, and official indifference.
Court Victories Without Relief
After decades of silence from the authorities, Mithilesh finally turned to the courts—and in 2005, a civil court ruled in her favor.
However, even victory brought no relief. Despite the clear order, the pension department failed to release her dues, citing “technicalities” and “missing documents” to justify their inaction.
Each hearing brought only new dates—tareekh pe tareekh—while Mithilesh’s health and hope slowly faded.
Recently, her case came up once again before the Gwalior bench of the Madhya Pradesh High Court, where even the judge expressed disbelief at the system’s apathy.
“This case is older than yours and mine,” the judge remarked, reflecting the court’s frustration.
In its latest order, the High Court directed that if the pension is not released by November, the Superintendent of Police, Sheopur, must appear in person to explain the delay.
A 50-Year Wait for Justice
For Mithilesh, time has been both a witness and a thief—stealing her youth, her peace, and half a century of her life in pursuit of what is rightfully hers.
Her case has moved from the civil court to the High Court, across multiple governments, officials, and administrations. Every time she dared to believe justice was near, another file went missing, another officer was transferred, and another date was given.
It is often said, “Justice delayed is justice denied.” But for Mithilesh, it has been both — a cruel reminder of how bureaucracy can outlive compassion, and how the fight for one’s rights can become a life sentence.