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Deviant by Design: Female Criminals in the Daroga Accounts of Priyanath Mukhopadhyay

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Abstract

Chapter 4 examines Daroga Priyanath Mukhopadhyay’s case records about killers (even multiple killers), fraudsters and thieves who happened to be women. The voices and personal accounts of these female criminals that can be retrieved from the interstices of the daroga’s writings disrupt the dominant framework of demonizing these women and bring to light other ways of looking at their criminality. The scrutiny of these accounts within their historical contexts thus help uncover stories that raise questions about notions of deviance and blur boundaries between victim and offender and suggest that so much of what is condemned as “criminal” behaviour also draws attention to social injustices.

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Notes

  1. 1.

    Girish Chandra Basu in his record Sheykaaler Daroga Kahini—memoirs of his daroga experiences which also records what the daroga sees as the praiseworthy transition from the earlier pre-colonial administrative state of chaos and legal anarchy to the colonial systems of good governance––talks of female criminality only in terms of women who were part of the so-called “Criminal” groups/tribes like the Bediyas that the colonial government had classified as a “criminal class operating in Bengal.” Girish Chandra Basu, Sheykaaler Darogar Kahini, first pub., 1885, http://arts.bdnews24.com, June, 2011, 160–166. Such stereotyping is also to be found in F.C. Daly (Deputy Superintendent of Police, Bengal) Manual of Criminal Classes Operating in Bengal, Calcutta: The Bengal Secretarial Press, 1916), 1–3. Calling the Bediyas (a tribe in Bengal) “uncivilized” Basu locates their “otherness” in their choosing to live on boats, being inveterate travellers, refusing to have any fixed religious affiliation or fixed profession and speaking a language that no one else can follow. The generalized description of the women talks of them as being dextrous boatwomen, dancers, actors, singers, entertainers and street peddlers. But all their skills as also their peripatetic lifestyle are ultimately subsumed in what is supposed to define the Bediyas predominantly and that is their identity as an untrustworthy group of petty thieves and confidence tricksters. Hence the dancing, singing and verbal skills of the women are all deployed to deflect the attention of the villagers and cheating them. Such a description also of course dovetails with the colonial law’s insistence on criminalizing the Bediyas as a “criminal tribe” requiring them to submit to the strictest of surveillance methods and severest of punishments if arrested for theft.

  2. 2.

    Lynda Hart, Fatal Women: Lesbian Sexuality and the Mark of Aggression (London: Routledge, 1994), 36.

  3. 3.

    Feminist scholars like Elizabeth Comack have in fact asserted the importance of recognizing the inherent instability of the offender-victim dyad. See Elizabeth Cormack, Women in Trouble: Connecting Women’s Law Violation to their Histories of Abuse (Halifax, Nova Scotia: Fernwood Publishing, 1996), 152.

  4. 4.

    The members of the village panchayat are condescendingly described as being “shorol prokriti” (rustic simpletons) for being perplexed by the daroga’s intrusive and persistent questioning. However their expression of discomfiture is used as an opportunity by the daroga to launch triumphantly into a long and condescendingly crushing “explanation” of this purportedly scientific knowledge-driven, systematic and objective process of crime solving. Local knowledge and traditional systems of governance are thus dismissed by the daroga through the representation of the villagers as xenophobic and idiosyncratic and the importance of rationality-based colonial policing is thus reinforced. Later at one point the daroga even kicks the chaukidar of the village in a gratuitous display of power when he senses that the villagers might be withholding information from him

  5. 5.

    Priyanath Mukhopadhyay, Promoda, Darogar Daftar, vol. 1, 236.

  6. 6.

    The slippage between female sexuality and criminality is also evident for instance in the report of the trial of one Shamacharan Pal who was accused of killing his neighbour Jadunath Chatterjee. The defence counsel attempting to frame Jadunath’s wife Mati Debi for the murder talks of the rumoured relationship that she had with her young servant Pandu and asks the jury to “draw their legitimate inferences” from the “facts being laid out in front of them”: “Jadu Chatterji was an old man who lived practically apart from his wife. His wife went away clandestinely to Orissa on a pilgrimage, some years ago, when she was about 26 years old, against the wishes of her husband and brought this young servant back with her, and he consented to work in the house without any remuneration except board. It is perfectly true that we have not succeeded in eliciting from the witnesses who have been examined on the subject that this caused any scandal in the village…but I ask you, gentlemen, to consider, whether, having regard to the Hindu ideas on the subject, the circumstances which I have already pointed out would or would not be likely to create a scandal…” As if to augment this evidence, further compelling “proof” of her potential criminality is furnished in the form of the “fact” that despite being a Brahmin, she was seen “indulging in ornaments and in a married woman’s costume even half an hour after her husband’s death.” See The Trial of Shamacharan Pal, Howrah Sessions, November 1894 (London: Lawrence & Bullen, Ltd., 1897), 159–160.

  7. 7.

    A somewhat similar case was reported in 1894 in which a woman called Udoy Tara, gratuitously described in the session Judge’s report as “a plain woman, somewhat his (Jagat’s) senior” was arrested along with her purported lover Jagat Mali for having allegedly killed Udoy’s husband Brindaban. The trial records suggest that unlike Promoda, Udoy Tara despite initially confessing to the daroga of having been in an “intrigue” with Jagat Mali and of having helped him kill her husband, then retracts her statement later on in Court on the grounds that the daroga had intimidated her into making such a statement. Jagat Mali like Hari in his statements insisted that it was Udoy who had repeatedly urged him to kill her husband and had actively participated in the killing. Subsequently she was acquitted by the Judge citing contradictions in her statements and depositions which he said suggested procedural lapses (BLR, 17th July 1894, Criminal reference, Queen Empress Vs Jagat Chandra Mali).

  8. 8.

    Priyanath Mukhopadhyay, E Aabaar Ki!, Darogar Daftar, vol. I, 402.

  9. 9.

    About the dangers that lurk under the facade of wealth and prosperity, see for instance these lines from a poem titled Kolikata published in a contemporary journal Samalochani (Analysis), 1905, Number 2, Year 3, page 38. You are covered in wealth at the moment but do not forget the slime that underlies all this. Bireshwar Bhattacharya.

  10. 10.

    Contemporary commentators on life in Calcutta harped continually on the relentless rise in crimes which they saw as an inevitable consequence of urban cosmopolitanism. In his analytical piece titled “Crimes of Calcutta: A study,” N.L. Bhattacharya talks of how the “the immoral tone of the metropolis is systematically kept up to its abnormal level by the “bustee” life peculiar to the town. In Calcutta about a fifth of the population lives in bustees (slums)…All classes of people may be found in these houses. The lawfully married wife of the poor artisan, the kept mistress of the bad character, the public woman entertaining promiscuous visitors, the maid servant earning her bread in dual capacities by day and by night, the woman accomplice of the cocaine seller and the professional procuress share different rooms of the same house. It is not at all to be wondered at that moral contamination spreads fast in the bustees and there would be no ground for surprise if some day the honest half-starved wife of the indigent workman would begin to envy the lot of the woman living an immoral life of ease and comfort and that she should succumb to the temptations held out by the procuress who has all along been closely watching the mental condition of the poor, over-worked, ill-fed and half-clothed girl.” (N.L. Bhattacharya, Crimes Of Calcutta: A Study (Calcutta: Chuckerbutty, Chatterjee & Co., 1926), 73). The city of Calcutta, “the most cosmopolitan city of the east” as Bhattacharya calls it, also has, according to him, dangerous spaces like the bustee and one of the reasons for it being rife with possibilities of “moral contamination” is the way in which poor working class women can influence the non-working and gullible wives of their neighbours and instigate them into having material aspirations that cannot be fulfilled by their husband’s earnings.

  11. 11.

    “Servants in middle class discourse despite being repeatedly asserted as being family members were inevitably regarded as dishonest and thievish. Any popular housekeeping manual addressed to middle class housewives included passages warning against these presumed aspects of the servant’s character. While there was certainly some basis to this suspicion it is striking how dishonesty and unfaithfulness were inscribed as natural attributes of servants.” Swapna Banerjee, Men Women and Domestic Workers: Articulating Middle class Identity in Colonial Bengal (Delhi: OUP, 2005), 166. While the female domestics/jhhi as they were/are called that Swapna Banerjee has discussed were those working in bhadralok households, there were also women who worked as domestics in the kind of large working young men’s hostels and messes that the daroga talks about as mushrooming in modern Kolkata. The jhhis associated with such establishments are stereotyped as being even more dangerous, because they are not employed by stable upper class households where their movements and activities could be more closely monitored.

  12. 12.

    Anon., “Kolikata r Jhhi” (The Housemaids of Calcutta), Anusandhaan 21 (1893): 360.

  13. 13.

    Priyonath Mukhopadhyay, “Aamaar Goyendagiri” Anusandhhaan, 29 (Jan. 1891): 256.

  14. 14.

    Ibid., 259. While the crime itself discussed in this account is committed by a young male cook Umesh, the narrative goes on to suggest that it is because of his infatuation with a high-maintenance girl called Kamini that Umesh had had to become a criminal. Having become utterly infatuated with her, he had no choice, as one of the witnesses point out, but to resort to crimes like stealing from his employers in order to keep her happy. Demanding and petulant mistresses (as opposed to dutiful and martyred kul kaamini wives who would much rather be beaten up than protest against their husband’s excesses) pushing men into committing petty crimes is a common theme in many accounts. See for example Anon., “Apoorba Purashkaar” (Amazing Reward), Anushandhhaan, (March 1900): 347–348. Thus the privileging of marriages based on devotion to social duty is buttressed by projecting relationships framed by desire as potentially leading to criminal behaviour.

  15. 15.

    Freda Adler’s Sisters in Crime and Rita Simon’s Women and Crime suggested something similarly ideologically skewed when they contended that women’s heretofore lower rates of participation in crime could be explained by their confinement to the household. See Freda Adler, Sisters in Crime: The Rise of the New Female Criminal (McGraw-Hill, 1975) and Rita Simon, Women and Crime (Massachussetts: Lexington Books, 1975). “One of the major by-products of the women’s movement will be a higher proportion of women who pursue careers in crime.” See Simon, 1. Such readings of female criminality, obfuscate vexed social realities and women’s complex reactions to oppressive social, sexual and economic structures.

  16. 16.

    Priyanath Mukhopadhyay, Shabaaish Budhhi, Darogar Daftar vol. II, 454.

  17. 17.

    Even among some Brahmos this Act was considered “a permissive measure” (See Rochona Majumdar, Marriage and Modernity: Family Values in Colonial Bengal (Duke University Press, 2009), 182. A law like this which also permitted inter-caste matches would have made Susheela’s marriage possible albeit unacceptable in society. Clearly in this account, positioned as the reference is, amidst the various bits of information that are meant to be read as part of the trajectory that went into the creation of her as a criminal, it is expected to be seen as a wrongful sanctioning of illicit matches.

  18. 18.

    While Calcutta and its suburbs offered higher educational opportunities as well as of liberal professions which attracted several young men from surrounding villages, women like Susheela could not clearly have availed of such choices. The opportunities that come her way are that of socially and sexually ambiguous and exploitative relationships or criminal acts.

  19. 19.

    Purkayastha, Towards Freedom, 125.

  20. 20.

    Talking about true crime tales of the depraved gentry and the obscene acts of the city low life in sixteenth century, Garthine Walker comments, “Whatever the sensationalist intent and appeal of rehearsing shocking doings the central organising theme of the genre was not disquieting titillation or violence but the restorative and comforting trilogy of sin, divine providence and redemption” (Garthine Walker, Crime, Gender and Social Order in Early Modern England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 124).

  21. 21.

    Priyanath Mukhopadhyay, Pahare Meye (Terrible Woman/Virago) (Kolkata: Bani Press, 1903), 5–6.

  22. 22.

    Trailokya’s personal narrative, such as it is, makes an appearance when autobiographical writings/personal narratives by bhadra Bengali women (in Bangla) were beginning to enter the marketplace. South Asian scholars, particularly of women’s history have preferred the term personal narratives on the basis that it includes not only “the more formal full length structured autobiography but also diaries, letters, interviews, poems, stories, essays and other portraits from memory.” See Shubhra Ray, “Kailashbashini Debi’s Janaika Grihabadhur Diary: A Woman “Constructing” her “Self” in Nineteenth Century Bengal” in Anshu Malhotra and Siobhan Lambert-Hurley ed. Speaking of the Self: Gender, Performance, and Autobiography in South Asia (Durham: Duke University Press, 2015) Kindle Edition. These autobiographical writings were largely by upper class/caste antahpur-bound women who had received education (or were self-taught as in the case of the remarkable Rasasundari) and had then started recording certain fragments of their lives and experiences in a voice that was often self-deprecatory. (“These texts were meant to provide details about domesticity or if the autobiographers happened to be daughters, wives, or daughters-in-law of important individuals, information about the interior world of these men; they were never meant to be read as expressions of their personal opinions or worldview.” Shubhra Ray. Trailokya’s personal narrative, highly mediated though it is, is very different from these memoirs/travel writings/diaries.)

  23. 23.

    A somewhat similar trajectory of the female protagonist’s life: widowed at a very young age, befriends a young woman who incites her into wanting sexual freedom, running away from home to Kolkata followed by a checkered existence as a prostitute in the city—is also evident in a contemporary novel Swarnabai published from Battala. Swarnabai however does not turn to a life of crime in order to survive. See Ratnabali Chatterji, “Swarnabai: Nitikatha naa Pornography”(Swarnabai: Morality Tale or Pornography?), Bardhan and Acharya, Bangali r Battala, 329–347.

  24. 24.

    In contrast to this in a fictional account written in an autobiographical mode titled Barangona r Abhhishompaat (The curse of the Prostitute) the narrator, a prostitute, attacks female education as one of the reasons for the downfall of women like her. An extremely conservative and didactic piece of writing which was serialized in Anushandhaan, the same journal/newspaper which had serialized Trailokya’s account a year ago, the beshya’s “voice” in this case endorses a monolithic, unproblematic way of looking at marriage of any kind as an inviolable institution that orders, sanctifies and perpetuates the interests of society. About female education, the narrator says, “Those of us who are fairly educated spend most of their time reading novels and plays” (351) and natok-novel of course encourage women to eschew female modesty and flout the rightful authority of husbands and fathers. The narrator even gives the examples of Bankim’s novels that have been the cause of her ruin. See Anon., “Baranganar Abhhishompaat,” Anushandhaan, 15th Jyeshthh, (1889): 335–339.

  25. 25.

    In another account titled Obhhaaginir Atmakathha (the autobiographical account of an unfortunate woman) which claims to be “based on true events,” the narrator, a prostitute talks of her past as a kulin brahmin’s daughter who despite her beauty and education had to be married to a man who on their wedding night refused to have anything to do with her unless she gave him money. He kicks her and deserts her when she fails to give him any and after being abandoned she gradually drifts into prostitution after having an affair with the man in whose house she begins to work as a cook. While bemoaning the fate of kulin girls she clearly also articulates bitterly angry criticism of this practice that turns parents into their daughters’ worst enemies: “Is this why Kulins are respected so very much? Do Kulin fathers long for Kulin sons-in-law so that their daughters can weep in this manner all their lives? Are these signs of a good Kula?” The unnamed narrator says that she had decided to seek revenge from the man she had married for the humiliation he had heaped on her but then lost her nerve when she did actually confront him after many years. Bidhubhushan Ghosh, “Abhagini r Atmakatha,” Anusandhan, 15 Boishaakh (1893): 438. A footnote to the account mentions that its writer, Bidhubhushan Ghosh, the headmaster of a local school had vowed that it was based on events he had personally witnessed.

  26. 26.

    Samita Sen, “Offences against Marriage: Negotiating Custon in Colonial Bengal” in Mary E John c Janaki Nair eds., Question of Silence: The Sexual Economies of Modern India, (London and NY: Zed Books, 1998), 85–86. Vaishnava women were particularly denigrated because they appeared to dispense altogether with the formalization of sexual relationships. The relative sexual freedom enjoyed by many Vaishnava women outraged Indian and British moralists. By the late nineteenth century they came under systematic attack from reformers. The akharas always a refuge for destitute women became associated with prostitution. Even Bankim Chatterji argued that “the loose morality of the sect is separated by a very slight line from the utter negation of female morality which constitutes prostitution.” British officials by and large concurred with this view. The Vaishnavas lived in communes (akhara), survived on begging (madhukari)—thus defying the occupational structures of caste stratification—and performed with their female companions the yogic sexual rites of the tantrik-Sahajiya tradition. Those who were converted and joined the ranks of the casteless Vaishnavas, came mainly, but not exclusively, from the lower orders of Hindu society—the unclean Sudra, Antyaja and untouchable castes, as well as some of the tribals. See Sekhar Bandopadhyay, Caste, Culture, Hegemony, 80–88. Parna Sengupta talks of how Vaishnava women, who were also commonly known for their knowledge and philosophical wisdom and would be employed in teacherly roles, began to be eased out of such roles once the colonial government got wind of their reputation as sexually libidinous and immoral women. See Pedagogy for Religion: Missionary Education and the Fashioning of Hindus and Muslims in Bengal (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2011), 111–112. Trailokya describes Tara as having had a male partner at one time who then disappeared from her life. However as Trailokya points out, despite the kind of vague and unsubstantiated rumours that circulated about Tara’s sexual relationships, she was accepted as a visitor in most households in the village and was an active participant in every festivity.

  27. 27.

    It is in fact not clear whether the word “prostitute” when used for Vaishnavis is not simply prompted by the predominant and intersecting prejudices of the conservative upper caste/class Hindus as well as of colonial government.

  28. 28.

    According to Sumanta Banerjee, “Some of the earliest expressions of protest and assertion of rights by prostitutes in print are available from letters in contemporary newspapers.” One such letter that he cites is by a prostitute written by a kulin Brahmin widow in the 1840s whose past seems not very dissimilar to that of Trailokya’s. Married off at the age of 3 to a kulin Brahmin polygamist, she continues to stay with her parents till the age of 16 when one day she is horrified to see “a 50 year old man at our doorstep…I was shocked by his uncouth appearance, his decrepit limbs and gnarled white hair…I had never knowingly accepted him, never met him ever since I had come of age there never had been any harmony of minds or love between the two of us and yet he was my husband…Like his ugly appearance, at night I got a taste of his rude behaviour. The next morning he collected some money from my father and left never to return…Although I genuinely tried to remain chaste and maintain the honour of my family and religion, finally out of sheer torment I chose to go astray, and I came to Calcutta and I am living independently in Mechhobazaar. Last year my younger sister also after discord and quarrels with her husband joined me here.” The letter was signed “A Prostitute living in Kolkata” Vidyadarshan, No. 5, 1842. See Sumanta Banerjee, “The ‘Beshya’ and the ‘Babu’: Prostitute and her Clientele in 19th century Bengal,” Economic & Political Weekly, vol. 28, No. 45 (Nov. 6, 1993): 2469.

  29. 29.

    In 1894 for instance there is a case report of a Karuna Boshtobi/Vaishnavi in the town of Bankura (to whom one Haradhan Mandal “sold” his two infant girls) who is repeatedly referred to as a “prostitute” by the prosecuting counsel as well as the Judges and is accused of being a procuress despite there being little or no evidence to substantiate such accusations. Despite the fact that Mandal, a poor widower, confesses to having sold his daughters in an hour of desperate need and the Boishtobi had according to her account “bought” them with the view to raising them as her daughters so they could look after her in her old age, there are allegations that she had wanted them in order to turn them into prostitutes like her when they grew up. A girl named Amadini who it is alleged had been earlier bought for similar reasons when produced as witness only talks of the Vaishnavi as having bequeathed all her property to her (BLR, 19 October 1894, Appellate Criminal, Deputy Legal Remembrancer Vs Karuna Boishtobi). She is given a sentence of nine months’ imprisonment as the judge says, “the mere fact of the offence having been committed by a low class prostitute would not be sufficient to induce us to treat it lightly and to visit it with a nominal punishment” (p. 118) (BLR, 19 October 1894 Appellate Criminal, deputy Legal Remembrancer Vs Karuna Boishtobi).

  30. 30.

    In a case recorded in July 1876 a prostitute called Uma Peshagur was charged under section 373 and 445 of the IPC (obtaining possession of a minor with the intention of bringing up such a minor as a prostitute) with bringing up a girl Shama to follow the same profession as herself. The controversial case that first went before a deputy magistrate (who convicted the prisoner), then to a Sessions Court and finally to the High Court (and also prompted several agitated letters between officiating authorities) which acquitted her, revealed that Shama, an illegitimate child, had been “obtained” by Uma’s adoptive mother, Piran (a prostitute). The Sessions Court judge who took a liberal view of the matter––in the teeth of fierce declamations by missionaries about “vice” and illegal trafficking of minors––and acquitted Uma, took note of the fact that not only was Uma not responsible for “obtaining possession” of Shama as a child but that Uma was the only mother that the child Shama had ever known. Refusing to denounce this unconventional familial structure, he asserted in a statement that makes clear that Uma can hardly be blamed for the chain of socially-governed events that have led to Shama becoming a prostitute, “If Piran had not taken Shama (the bastard child of a Hindoo widow) she would have probably been put out of the way by her respectable parents.…Piran brought her up and in due course Piran died and left her girl Uma who continued to take charge of the child Shama.… What other means of living were open to her I cannot see. Prostitution of course is a social evil but it is not forbidden by law and a person must live somehow. Clearly there was no obligation on this girl Uma to support the girl virtuously while she herself was compelled to live by vice” (Judicial Proceedings, File 379-21, No. 169, Dacca, 1876).

  31. 31.

    Even later in the narrative while talking of her life of crime she sees it as tied to her moral decline which began with her violating the patriarchal norms of sexuality when she submitted to the raakhhoshi Tara’s kuhok in her village. The scapegoating of Tara didi for what she insists was her fall into depravity, obfuscates the fact that the prospect of marrying a 50-year-old stranger at the age of 14 years and subsequently spending her life from the age of 15 as his widow, had justly repelled her as an adolescent and even the adult, contrite Trailokya refers to it as a grotesque and unacceptable perversion.

  32. 32.

    In complete contrast to this, in the article titled Barangana r Obhhishompaat, the self-flagellating “voice” of the baranganaa (prostitute) bemoans her horrific moral condition and rails against all the various people who are responsible for and complicit in the perpetuation of prostitution. The article begins with the lines, “Why did I become a prostitute? Why did I forsake my kula? The kind of suffering that I went through from time to time as a householder seems like happiness when I compare it to the excruciating pain of being a prostitute. Will this suffering of mine never end? I have money and everything else and yet there is not a single person I can think of as kin.” See Anusandhaan, 335.

  33. 33.

    Sumanta Banerji also draws attention to the changes in the “behaviour pattern of prostitutes” in the last half of the nineteenth century. He cites a farce written in 1863—Aaponar Mookhh Aponi Daikhho (Take a Look at your Own Face)––in which a prostitute Rammoni begins her life as a maidservant in the household of a babu and soon after finding favour with him, is installed in a two-storeyed house and thence she becomes a high-maintenance prostitute. See Banerji, Beshya and Babu, 2466.

  34. 34.

    See Rochona Majumdar Marriage and Modernity, 143 for the importance of jewellery in determining the status of the young bride and for judging her parents’ dowry-giving abilities. Young brides who failed to please their parents-in-law with the quality or quantity of jewellery they brought along with them were treated with disdain in their marital homes. Gifting jewels to their wives as well as mistresses was customary amongst well-to-do babus. For prostitutes the gifted jewellery was immensely valued as savings given the uncertainty of their earnings. Several cases have been recorded in contemporary judicial records of prostitutes who were murdered by their clients in order to rob them of their jewels (see Hindoo Patriot, 3 Jan 1895, p. 2). What is also evident from certain reported cases is that men accused of crimes against prostitutes despite being arrested on the basis of eye witness accounts were rarely punished in Court. In a case reported in April 1900, a man seen fleeing by several witnesses from the house of a prostitute who lay inside with her throat slit was subsequently discharged by the deputy magistrate and later by the Sessions judge of Burdwan and a jury (ILR, Calcutta series, vol. 28, Jan., 17, 18, 22, p. 397 Queen Empress vs. Surendra Nath Sarkar (Accused)).

  35. 35.

    Priyanath Mukhopadhyay, Shesh Leela, Darogar Daftar vol. II, 33.

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Roy, S. (2017). Deviant by Design: Female Criminals in the Daroga Accounts of Priyanath Mukhopadhyay. In: Gender and Criminality in Bangla Crime Narratives. Palgrave Advances in Criminology and Criminal Justice in Asia. Palgrave Macmillan, London. https://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-51598-8_4

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