Reader Advisory: The following story contains intense and unsettling themes. It may not be suitable for all readers. Proceed with caution if you’re sensitive to dark or disturbing content.
“Hello friends! I am in Delhi today, all the way from Bengaluru, to try the famous ‘Ruksana Amma Ki Mutton Curry’. Friends! Look at her! How adorable she is!” Food vlogger Ashmita Sahay had travelled from Bengaluru to try Old Delhi’s renowned mutton curry, sold by an elderly lady named Ruksana. She is a 54-year-old woman who manages an eatery that was started by her grandfather in 1970, on the very day she was born, 13th March. Ashmita had seen a video by a food vlogger from Delhi who praised the mutton curry as if it had descended straight from heaven.
“Amma! Can you please give me one plate of mutton curry with rumali roti?” Ashmita excitedly asked for food. She sat on one of the old chairs outside the eatery and took her first bite. “OH. MY. GOD! Sudesh was not wrong! This actually tastes like heaven. Guys! You have to try this. It’s so amazing. I have never tasted mutton curry like this in my entire life.” Ashmita kept praising the dish continuously as she finished every drop of curry on her plate.
“So Sudesh, tell me more about this place since Amma wasn’t ready to talk on camera.” Ashmita turned the camera to her friend, who had introduced the place to her. “The shop was established in 1970 by Ruksana’s grandfather, Rahim Chacha. The story that her son told me off-camera was that Zakir Khan, Ruksana’s father, did not have any children,” Sudesh narrated the story while sipping chai.
He added, “Rahim asked for a child for his son and promised that he would open a shop in the child’s name if his ‘mannat’ (vow) was fulfilled. He also vowed to give away 50 plates of food every day for free as part of this ‘mannat,’ which still continues. Ruksana was born, and the shop was named ‘Ruksana Ki Mutton Curry.’ After Rahim, Zakir managed the shop, and Ruksana took over the operations in 2010. The entire family works here, regardless of age or role. You won’t find a single outsider employed here.”
#StorySutra: Story 3 – Ruksana Amma Ki Mutton Curry
— Anurag (@LekhakAnurag) August 25, 2024
Reader Advisory: The following story contains intense and unsettling themes. It may not be suitable for all readers. Proceed with caution if you’re sensitive to dark or disturbing content.
“Hello friends! I am in Delhi today,… pic.twitter.com/eIl4eozhCE
“This is indeed a fascinating story…” Ashmita said while packing up her gear. She was not the only vlogger or food critic visiting the place. Interestingly, every video made at Ruksana’s shop became an overnight hit, bringing more business to her establishment. From police personnel to IT professionals, from the affluent South Delhi crowd to rickshaw drivers, everyone ate at the shop without hesitation, drawn solely by the taste.
Ruksana, though an open-minded and modern woman, tried to stay away from the camera as much as possible. She never objected to vloggers or photographers filming her, but she never gave an interview. Her younger son, Ishfaq, was given the responsibility of managing the media and telling the shop’s story. He had a separate counter where he sat and assisted the vloggers, ensuring that regular customers were not inconvenienced by their presence.
Despite being an old shop, it was impeccably clean. Visitors never saw a grain of dust at the counters or inside the shop. The seating area was cleaned every hour to maintain hygiene, which added to the shop’s popularity. But the most fascinating aspect was that the oversized pot from which the mutton was served to customers had never been covered since the shop opened in 1970. The fire under it had been kept on a low flame since day one. The mutton was cooked inside the shop, visible to customers, and added to the pot as soon as it reached a certain point. Ruksana kept stirring the mutton curry, mixing old and fresh batches, giving it a distinctive taste.
The Murder Mystery
Only a kilometre away from Ruksana’s shop was the New Delhi police station. Inspector Kirti Khurana had joined the station a couple of months ago. “Kirti, KIRTI! What are you reading?” Jatin, Kirti’s husband, almost shouted as Kirti was engrossed in a case file. “Arre, Rohit sir gave me a new case today. I’m trying to wrap my head around it,” Kirti told Jatin, still focused on the case file. “What is it about?” he asked. “Murders… 9 of them, that happened in the last three months,” Kirti was yet to look at Jatin.
“You got the case! I knew it! I knew it!” Jatin, who is a reporter at Crime Time Daily, was thrilled that his wife had finally gotten a major case after transferring from Lucknow to Delhi following their marriage. “Yeah, when I showed Rohit sir all the evidence pointing to the fact that all these nine cases are linked, he asked me to lead the team. I will be working with four other teams from different police stations,” she said while closing the file. “You tell me, how was your day?” she finally looked at Jatin.
“Leave my day. So, what do you think? Does our theory hold?” he asked curiously. Jatin had been helping Kirti with the case without getting officially involved. “At first glance, yes. But let’s see. I have a meeting tomorrow. All teams are coming here to formally join the task force. The Commissioner is also coming.” Kirti was visibly stressed because of the case. In her ten-year career, she had solved all thirty cases she had led, but she had never faced a potential serial killer.
It was the end of September. The weather in Delhi was starting to get a little cooler. In July, the first murder victim was found about 500 metres from Krishna Nagar Metro Station. The investigation went on for over three months, but nothing concrete was found. Police saw the victim on CCTV passing by the metro station, but after that, he was untraceable. There was also no suspicious person following him who could be considered a suspect.
Over the next three months, eight more murders occurred, the last one happening in the New Delhi police station area. Kirti was handed the case because she had experience solving murder cases. While reviewing the case details, Kirti stumbled upon news reports of murders in other police station areas and requested the files. Although the method of killing the victims differed, there was one common aspect: a large chunk of flesh from their thighs was missing. The flesh had been cut with precision, and when she compared the post-mortem reports, it became evident that the weapon used to cut the flesh was similar.
Kirti Tries Mutton for the First Time
“Accha suno. Let’s go have some food. I’ll take you to the famous ‘Ruksana Amma Ki Mutton Curry’. You’ll love it. Also, it will take your mind off the case for a while. Please… let’s go!” Jatin almost begged her. “Okay, okay! It’s been over a week that you’ve been making these puppy faces to go there. Why can’t we just order? Don’t they deliver food?” she questioned. “They do… but for some reason, the taste and experience aren’t the same. Don’t worry, it’s as clean as your kitchen. Trust me, please. You’ll love it,” Jatin kept convincing her, though Kirti had already started getting ready.
“Ah, finally! Ruksana Amma!” Jatin almost shouted as they sat outside the shop. “Do plate lagana!” (Serve two plates!) he shouted again. Kirti was shocked as she had never seen Jatin behave like this. “Calm down! It’s just mutton,” she laughed. “You don’t know, bro!” Jatin pinched her cheeks. “Stop calling me bro!” One of the things Kirti hated about Jatin was his habit of calling her bro. “Anyway, listen. I was thinking of starting the meeting with the recent case. In fact, the crime scene is just 250 metres from here. We can go there after dinner. I really want to see the location once more before the meeting,” Kirti started talking about the case again.
“No! We are NOT going to a crime scene after having this heavenly mutton. We’ll go in the morning. Not now!” Jatin objected profusely as the dinner arrived at their table. “Fine!” Kirti said and took the first bite. She immediately closed her eyes as the taste was beyond what she had expected. “Oh My God! Jatin! How?!” She was awestruck by the taste. “See! I told you!” Jatin said proudly.
As they finished the food, Jatin asked Ruksana for rasmalai, the only sweet dish available at the shop. “Now you can talk about the case. I don’t mind,” Jatin told Kirti. “Haan haan… ab janab ka pet jo bhar gaya. (Yes, now that you’re full.) As I told you, I want to start with the recent one. Arre, Ruksana might be aware of the murder. It happened so close to the shop,” Kirti said, looking at Ruksana, who was hardly 5 feet away from her. Ruksana heard her name, “Kya hua bitiya? Khana theek nahi tha?” (What happened, dear? Was the food not good?) she inquired. “No no! Khana bahut badhiya tha. Amma, do you know about the murder that happened recently here?” (No no! The food was excellent. Amma, do you know about the murder that happened recently here?) She pointed in the direction where the dead body was found.
The colour on Ruksana’s face changed quickly. “Haan… Pata hai… Gulshan tha woh. Bahut hi pyara bachcha tha. Har hafte 2-3 baar mere paas khana khane aata tha. Uske abba Farid Himachal se aaya karte the mahine mein ek baar us se milne. Pad raha tha na woh… kisi exam ki tayyari kar raha tha. Bechara saara din baith baith ke wazan bhi badh gaya tha uska…” (Yes… I know… It was Gulshan. He was such a sweet boy. He used to come to me for food 2-3 times a week. His father, Farid, used to come from Himachal once a month to meet him. He was studying, preparing for some exam… Poor thing, he gained weight sitting all day…) Ruksana said in one breath.
Kirti did not expect her to open up like this. “Aapke paas akhiri baar kab aaya tha?” (When did he last come to you?) she asked her. “Beta kya baat ho gai? Tum kyun pooch rahi ho?” (What’s the matter, dear? Why are you asking?) Ruksana realized she had said a lot without knowing who she was talking to. “Amma chinta na karo. Media se yeh hain (she points towards Jatin) main to police se hun. Case main hi dekh rahi hun.” (Amma, don’t worry. He’s from the media, and I’m from the police. I’m handling the case.) Kirti introduced herself and showed her ID card.
Ruksana felt relaxed. “Murder se ek din pehle hi aaya tha beti. Bahut khush tha. Tayaari poori hone wali thi uski agle saal ke exam ke liye. Keh raha tha ki ‘Amma ab main wapas ghar chala jaunga Diwali ke liye’. Par dekho. Allah ko kuch aur hi manzoor tha… Arre Mehmood beta, rasmalai kidhar reh gai?” (He came just the day before the murder, dear. He was very happy. He said his preparation for next year’s exam was almost complete. He said, ‘Amma, I will go back home for Diwali now.’ But look, Allah had something else in mind… Oh Mehmood, where’s the rasmalai?) she answered Kirti’s question as she asked for the sweet dish they had ordered.
Kirti and Jatin finished the food and headed back home. Kirti spent the night thinking about the case and the meeting the next day.
The Meeting and Investigation
“Sir, as I said, these cases are clearly linked. The knife used to cut the flesh was the same. See sir, according to the report, this kind of knife has been used. It is only used by skilled butchers. There is a chance the killer is a butcher,” Kirti presented her findings. “Kirti, we have gone through the details. You will lead the teams. There will be one team from each police station area where the murders happened,” SP Rohit Maheshwari explained everyone’s role and dismissed the meeting. Commissioner of Police Raghav Avasthi was visibly tense.
“Nine murders, and now we are finding that they are linked. Thankfully, details of post-mortem reports were not given to the media, otherwise, if someone had found the link, it would have created panic,” CP Avasthi said to Rohit while leaving the meeting room. “But sir, we need the public’s help, so details need to be given to the media at some point,” SP Rohit countered. “I understand. Let Kirti handle the press release. We’ll see if our intervention is required at any point. Are you sure she’ll manage?” he asked SP Rohit. “Yes. Don’t worry, sir,” Rohit said as they parted ways.
Kirti and her teams went to all the locations repeatedly to find more clues. There were thousands of hours of CCTV footage, documents, IDs, and other possible evidence to review. The war room at the New Delhi police station was beginning to look more like a storeroom, but a neat one. Finally, after two weeks, Kirti was ready to release details to the press. “Jatin, are you coming for the press conference?” she asked while getting ready. “Yes, you have completely stopped sharing any details. I have to come, as my lovely ‘source’ has ditched me,” Jatin said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
The Press Conference
“I am here to inform you all that there is a serial killer on the loose in Delhi. So far, we have traced nine murders that happened in the areas mentioned on the board. There is one common detail that was not released before. As you can see in the post-mortem pictures, all the victims were missing large chunks of their thighs. We are unsure why such cuts were made, but these cuts gave us the clue that they were connected, as a similar knife and cutting style was used in all the murders,” Kirti explained to the press.
“Please stick to the information released via the press note. I am also issuing a warning that no speculations or theories should be run on news channels or in print media. The same warning goes for YouTube channels and influencers who may think that they can gain some traction by talking about the case. Every Thursday, we will hold a press conference and provide details. Hotline numbers are mentioned in the press note. If anyone has any information about the cases, they can call them. We are announcing a reward of ₹5,00,000 for credible information leading to an arrest,” Kirti added. A few journalists tried to ask questions, but Kirti refused, saying, “Next week.”
The Investigation Continued
For the next couple of weeks, the investigation continued, and another murder took place. The modus operandi was the same. The media made it an issue as five teams comprising expert police officials were involved in the investigation. “What is this, Kirti? Another murder?” SP Rohit was angry. “Sir, we have some clues. Just give me a couple of days. I will solve it by Friday,” Kirti assured him, confidence showing on her face. “Okay. I’m giving you time until next Friday. Otherwise, I will hand it over to someone else,” SP Rohit told Kirti, who happily accepted the challenge.
While leaving his office, Kirti dialled Jatin’s number. “Chal mutton khake aate hain Ruksana Amma ke paas,” (Let’s go have some mutton at Ruksana Amma’s place) she told him on the phone. “Okay! Sure! But last time you asked me not to visit there. What happened?” he asked. “Nothing. Tu aaja. Main wait karungi udhar,” (Nothing. Just come. I’ll wait for you there.) Kirti disconnected the call without explaining much.
“Sun. Khana nahi hai. Ek plate manga. Usko is tiffin mein daal aur nikal. Main Ruksana se baat karke ghar aati hun,” (Listen. We’re not eating here. Order one plate. Put it in this tiffin and leave. I’ll talk to Ruksana and come home.) Kirti handed a tiffin to Jatin. He was confused but did what she asked. “Pack bhi kara hi sakte the…” (We could have just packed it…) Jatin said while taking the tiffin, and Kirti replied with just a stare. “Ruksana Amma! Kaise ho? Aapne news dekhi? Yeh to kuch aur hi nikla. Aap dekho, kuch yaad aaye to. Bahut madad ho jayegi,” (Ruksana Amma! How are you? Did you see the news? This turned out to be something else entirely. See if you remember anything. It would be a great help.) Kirti didn’t waste a second before talking to Ruksana. She seemed depressed. “Kya hua Amma? Kuch tension? Mujhe batao…” (What happened, Amma? Are you worried? Tell me…) Kirti asked her. “Arre nahi beta. Bas thodi tabiyat nahi theek. Umar bhi to ho chali hai,” (No, dear. Just feeling a bit unwell. I’ve also gotten older.) she said while trying to look around Kirti.
“Tumhara pati khada tha na idhar?” (Your husband was standing here, right?) she asked. “Haan, bas woh unhone hi khana tha. Nikal liye kaam par woh kha kar,” (Yes, he just ate and left for work.) Kirti explained with a smile. “Accha Amma. Number aapke paas hai hi. Please call kijiyega,” (Okay, Amma. You have my number. Please call if you remember anything.) Kirti left before Ruksana could say anything.
The Arrest
Two days later, around 50 police officers led by Kirti reached “Ruksana Amma Ki Mutton Curry.” “Sabko pakad ke andar daalo. Ek, ek cheez tag karo, pack karo aur testing ke liye bhejo. Kuch bhi miss nahi hona chahiye,” (Arrest everyone and put them inside. Tag, pack, and send every single item for testing. Nothing should be missed.) Kirti instructed her team. “Kya kar rahe hain aap?” (What are you doing?) Ruksana’s sons tried to stop the police officials, but no one listened. “Haan to Ruksana Amma, chalein?” (So, Ruksana Amma, shall we go?) Ruksana pulled a butcher knife from under her chair and attacked Kirti. She was prepared for the attack. Kirti held Ruksana’s hand, “Amma… Umar ho gai hai. Rehne do,” (Amma… You’re old now. Let it go.) and pulled her arm to get her off her seat.
Within 5 hours, everything from the shop was confiscated and sealed. Kirti went back to the office and gave instructions to her team before leaving for home. “Jatin! I’m home,” she shouted as she entered. “Yeh lo. Tumhara favourite, Paneer Tikka Butter Masala. Pandit ki shop se hai. Shudh Shakahari,” (Here you go. Your favourite, Paneer Tikka Butter Masala. It’s from Pandit’s shop. Purely vegetarian.) Kirti handed over the food with a smile.
“What is going on, Kirti? You arrested Ruksana and her family? Are they involved?” Jatin bombarded her with questions. “Pehle kha lo. Nahi to khana bhool jaoge,” (Eat first, or you’ll forget about the food.) Kirti said with a smile. After dinner, Kirti sat him down. “Listen to me. You cannot tell this to anyone, as there are some proceedings left before we reveal the information to the public. But here’s what happened…”
The Story
“The other day, I asked one of my team members to bring mutton curry from her shop for everyone’s lunch. When I tasted it, it was different from what we had eaten earlier. I ignored it and continued with my work. Two days later, after revisiting the crime scene, we went to her shop for lunch. All of us ate there, but one of us had it packed to take home as he had a half-day and wanted to eat with his family. That’s when I noticed something strange: the mutton served to customers dining at the shop came from a large handi, but the mutton for takeout or delivery came from inside the shop.
I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it lingered in my subconscious. Two days later, the same thing happened. Something didn’t feel right. I grew curious and suspected that the mutton might be contaminated. So, I called my colleague in the food department and asked them to send a team to collect samples since we were eating there regularly. The team went, and all samples came back clean.
But my mind wasn’t satisfied. How could the taste be different? My colleague had some work at my station, and when he arrived, I asked him about it. He also didn’t notice anything unusual. I then asked him to contact the team that conducted the sampling, and that’s when we realised no sample had ever been taken from the handi. This only heightened my suspicions about her, leading me to think in a different direction. I wondered if she was mixing drugs into the food to get customers addicted. I called you and advised you not to visit the place.
I needed a distraction from the murder investigations, so I decided to dig deeper into this. For the next three days, two personnel from my team monitored the shop and observed how the mutton was packed. They noticed that specially cooked meat was brought from inside and added to the large handi. I then instructed one of them to do what we did—order food and get it packed. Strangely, he wasn’t allowed to pack the food that was served on a plate. Ishfaq offered a new plate, saying it was just their way of doing business, and almost snatched the thali from his hand. That’s why I decided to go with you myself.
When we got the mutton tested, it was discovered that it contained not just mutton but also other animals—rabbits, emu, turkey, chicken, and more. Shockingly, it also contained human meat, cooked to perfection,” Kirti told Jatin.
“What?” Jatin ran to the washroom to vomit.
“Arre, 2 hafte purana nahi niklega. Aaja wapas,” (Don’t worry, you won’t vomit something from two weeks ago. Come back.) Kirti called him back. “Sun ab…” (Listen now…) she continued. “After the recent murder, we saw Ruksana’s son Wahid in one of the CCTV footages following the victim. We picked him up while he was returning home one night, just before the arrest. He confessed that when Ruksana’s grandfather visited an occultist seeking a child for his son, the occultist made him promise that the family would never lack money, but in return, they had to sacrifice one person every month and mix their flesh into the food. Desperate, her grandfather agreed to the bizarre condition.
Since then, they’ve run the shop with employees only from their family. Ruksana’s birth marked the beginning of a series of serial murders starting in 1970. First, the grandfather committed the murders, then the son, and eventually Ruksana. When she turned 45, she stopped, and her sons took over the killings. They only added human meat to the handi. When food department officials attempted to take samples from it, she would bribe them, claiming it would reveal their trade secret.
All those officials who accepted bribes, whether serving or retired, will be punished too. We dug up old files and found over 650 unsolved murder cases. The murder style varied in each case, but a small chunk of the thigh was always missing from the dead body, which is why the cases were never linked.
Now, about what happened in June that led them to start killing three people at a time and taking larger chunks. In May 2023, an influencer named Sudesh visited the shop and made a video. The video went viral, and customer footfall increased by 2000%. They were running out of human meat quickly, so they began killing more people and taking larger portions of flesh. Their greed ended the killing spree…,” Kirti explained what was happening.
“I don’t believe it… that means…” Jatin looked at her in horror.
“Yes, my dear, we all ate human curry… in fact, thousands did… for 54 years… Everyone ate ‘Ruksana Amma ki aadam curry…”
Kirti left him baffled and went to the room to prepare for the press conference the next day…
© Lekhak Anurag. Any unauthorised reproduction, personal or commercial, without permission is prohibited. For reproduction or commercial use of the story, please ping me on mailme[at]lekhakanurag[dot]com.
Disclaimer: All the stories under #StorySutra are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author does not intend to malign any individual, group, or organisation.
Hi , I absolutely loved it. The characters felt so so real and this kind of stories remind me of the old reddit horror stories. Going to read the other 2 stories as well.