A Bow and Poisoned Arrows: The Extraordinary Tale of a Railway Worker’s 32-Year Vendetta Against the CBI

Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh — In an age of guns and bombs, few would expect a modern crime scene to feature a man wielding a bow and arrows. Yet, on a quiet Friday morning on Lucknow’s busy Naval Kishore Road, this is precisely what played out at the gates of the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) office. The assailant: a former railway employee from Bihar, driven by decades-old grievances and an unyielding thirst for revenge. The victim: an unsuspecting CBI Assistant Sub-Inspector, Virendra Singh, who became the tragic target of a vendetta that had simmered for 32 years.

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A Scene Out of Time

At precisely 11:15 a.m., the usually uneventful entrance to the CBI office was disrupted by an unusual figure. Dinesh Murmur, a 50-something man from Khadagpur, Munger, Bihar, approached the security gate, a bow slung across his shoulder and a quiver of arrows at his side. His appearance, more reminiscent of a character from ancient Indian epics than a modern-day city dweller, caught the attention of ASI Virendra Singh, who was manning the gate.

Dinesh insisted on entering, claiming he needed to meet with senior officials. When asked for identification and the names of the officers he wished to see, he grew agitated. “I’ll explain everything once I’m inside,” he reportedly said. Singh, following protocol, denied him entry, explaining that such procedures could not be bypassed.

Frustrated, Dinesh left the gate, but he did not go far. Concealing himself behind a nearby tree, he waited for his moment. Then, in a shocking act of violence, he unleashed five poisoned arrows at Singh, one of which struck the officer in the chest. The attack stunned bystanders and sent shockwaves through the law enforcement community.

A Grudge Forged in 1993

As police rushed to the scene and apprehended Dinesh, the story that began to emerge was as astonishing as the attack itself. In custody, Dinesh offered a chilling confession: “I have been searching for CBI officers for 32 years. Because of them, I lost my railway job. This attack is my answer to that pain.”

Dinesh’s journey to this moment began in 1993, in the Lucknow Railway Division. At the time, he was a railway employee, living a modest but dignified life. Everything changed when he reported a colleague, Sitaram Gupta, for accepting a bribe of ₹200. Dinesh had hoped to root out corruption; instead, he found himself ensnared in a web of intrigue and retribution.

The CBI launched a sweeping trap operation, investigating dozens of railway workers for bribery and corruption. But in the aftermath, Dinesh’s life unraveled. The very system he tried to aid turned against him. “I was dragged into the case by the guilty employee,” he told police. “The CBI started investigating me too. Eventually, I lost my job. My reputation and my livelihood were destroyed. I lost everything because of them.”

The Long Road to Revenge

For most, such a setback might have faded into the past. But for Dinesh, the wound never healed. Instead, it festered, growing into a singular obsession. “I waited all these years,” he said. “I searched everywhere, hoping to find the people who ruined my life. Someone told me the CBI officers could be found in Lucknow. So I came here, carrying my bow and arrows from home. I have no regrets.”

Dinesh’s story is one of relentless pursuit. Over the years, he wandered from city to city, from Bihar to Uttar Pradesh, asking questions, following leads, and nursing his resentment. He became a local curiosity — the man with the bow and arrows, always searching, always waiting.

His choice of weapon was as symbolic as it was practical. In a world dominated by firearms and explosives, Dinesh’s reliance on the traditional bow and arrow set him apart. To him, it was a statement: a return to roots, a tool of justice in a world that had denied him fairness.

The Day of the Attack

On the day of the attack, Dinesh’s actions were deliberate. He traveled from his home in Munger to Lucknow, carrying his bow and a set of arrows tipped with homemade poison. He made his way to the CBI office, intent on confronting the institution that, in his eyes, had destroyed his life.

When denied entry, he did not lash out immediately. Instead, he waited, biding his time, watching the gate. Then, with a calm born of years of planning, he took aim and fired. The arrows flew with deadly accuracy, one striking ASI Virendra Singh in the chest.

Singh collapsed, and chaos erupted. Security personnel rushed to subdue Dinesh, who offered no resistance. “I brought the bow and arrows from home,” he said, “and I do not regret what I have done.”

A City in Shock

News of the attack spread rapidly. The image of a man armed with a bow and arrows, striking at the heart of India’s premier investigative agency, was both surreal and deeply unsettling. In an era when security threats are measured in explosives and automatic weapons, Dinesh’s act was a jarring reminder of the power of personal vendetta — and the lengths to which a man can go when pushed to the brink.

Neighbors in Dinesh’s hometown of Khadagpur expressed disbelief and sorrow. “He was always quiet, always kept to himself,” said one villager. “But we knew he was angry about losing his job. No one thought he would do something like this.”

The Victim: ASI Virendra Singh

For ASI Virendra Singh and his family, the attack was a tragedy beyond comprehension. Singh, a veteran officer known for his dedication and professionalism, had no personal connection to Dinesh or the events of 1993. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, a symbol of the institution that Dinesh blamed for his downfall.

Singh was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. Doctors worked tirelessly to remove the arrow and treat the effects of the poison. As news of his condition spread, messages of support poured in from across the country. Colleagues described him as “brave, disciplined, and always willing to help others.”

The Investigation: Unraveling the Past

Police quickly launched an investigation, piecing together the events that led to the attack. Dinesh’s confession, combined with his decades-long search for the CBI, painted a picture of a man consumed by grievance and unable to move on from his past.

Records confirmed that in 1993, the CBI had indeed conducted a major anti-corruption operation in the Lucknow Railway Division, resulting in the dismissal of several employees, including Dinesh. While Dinesh maintained that he was a whistleblower wrongly implicated, official documents suggested a more complicated story, with multiple employees accused of both giving and receiving bribes.

A Symbolic Act in a Modern World

For many, Dinesh’s attack raised uncomfortable questions about justice, accountability, and the human cost of institutional failure. Was he a villain, a madman, or a victim of a system that failed to protect those who tried to do the right thing?

Social commentators weighed in, noting the symbolic power of Dinesh’s weapon of choice. “The bow and arrow are not just tools of violence,” said one historian. “They are symbols of ancient justice, of heroes and outcasts alike. In Dinesh’s hands, they became instruments of vengeance against a world he believed had wronged him.”

The Aftermath: Searching for Answers

As Dinesh sat in police custody, unrepentant and eerily calm, the city of Lucknow grappled with the implications of his actions. For the CBI, the attack was a wake-up call, prompting a review of security protocols and a renewed focus on the welfare of both current and former employees.

For Dinesh’s family, the news was devastating. “He could never let go of what happened,” said a relative. “He felt betrayed by the system. We tried to help him move on, but he wouldn’t listen.”

In the days that followed, debates raged on television and social media. Was Dinesh’s act a symptom of deeper problems within India’s institutions? How many others, wronged by bureaucracy or caught in the crossfire of corruption, nursed similar grievances in silence?

A Cautionary Tale

Dinesh Murmur’s story is a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked resentment and the enduring impact of injustice. It is a reminder that the wounds inflicted by corruption, real or perceived, can last a lifetime — and that the search for justice, when denied, can turn into a quest for revenge.

In a country grappling with the challenges of modernization and reform, Dinesh’s attack is a stark warning: that unless institutions are transparent, accountable, and responsive to the grievances of ordinary citizens, the seeds of discontent will continue to bear bitter fruit.

Conclusion: The Cost of Vengeance

As ASI Virendra Singh fights for his life, and as Dinesh Murmur faces the consequences of his actions, their stories are forever linked by a moment of violence born from decades of pain. For Dinesh, the attack was an act of closure — a final, desperate attempt to reclaim his lost honor. For Singh, it was a tragedy he never saw coming.

For India, it is a call to reflect on the cost of vengeance, the failures of justice, and the need for compassion in a world where the past can never truly be left behind.

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If you or someone you know is struggling with anger, trauma, or thoughts of violence, please seek help from a mental health professional or support service. There is always hope, and no one should suffer in silence.