The murder case of Gurbakhsh Singh is one of the most baffling and tragic investigations to emerge from New Delhi in recent years—a case riddled with contradictions, mistaken identities, and a tangled web of accusations that exposed deep cracks in the justice system.

It began quietly—too quietly for a case of this magnitude. On July 19, 2023, Gurbakhsh Singh, a 48-year-old man from the village of Jessore, was arrested on suspicion of involvement in a murder. But this wasn’t a simple arrest. In fact, it marked a turning point in an investigation that had been ongoing since late 2022, when police had begun looking into the mysterious death of a woman at a local hospital.

Initially, there was no name, no suspect, and not even a confirmed crime. The woman’s death had been ruled natural—perhaps a case of cardiac arrest—but a persistent junior inspector with the Delhi Police suspected otherwise. Her body bore faint bruises on her arms, and a nurse had whispered that the woman arrived unconscious, with her husband refusing to allow her to be examined.

That “husband,” police later alleged, was Gurbakhsh Singh.

However, the story was not so linear. According to official records, Gurbakhsh Singh had been reported dead in 2021.

The confusion surrounding his death only deepened as investigators unearthed new evidence. It turned out that Singh had staged his own death, faking medical reports and using the help of corrupt officials to obtain a fraudulent death certificate. The reason? To escape a crumbling marriage and a life of debt. His wife, whom many villagers remembered as soft-spoken and deeply religious, had died under mysterious circumstances in a private hospital shortly after his supposed death.

The deeper police dug, the more troubling the evidence became. Surveillance footage from the hospital, dated just three days after Singh’s reported death, showed him walking into the emergency ward with a woman—his wife. In the video, she appeared dazed, possibly drugged. Within hours, she was dead. Hospital records listed her cause of death as “unexplained cardiac failure,” but her autopsy had never been properly conducted.

What was initially believed to be a simple murder investigation spiraled into something far more complex: a case involving faked identities, forged documents, medical negligence, and possibly, a premeditated murder.

Singh was finally arrested when he was spotted working under a false name in a textile factory in Rajasthan. It was a chance encounter—an off-duty police officer visiting his cousin’s workplace recognized Singh from a wanted poster that had been circulated months earlier.

When Singh was brought in, he refused to speak for two days. But eventually, under intense questioning, he confessed—not to murder, but to faking his own death. He claimed his wife had fallen ill suddenly, and he panicked because he feared being discovered. Whether or not this was the truth, the police weren’t convinced.

Witnesses from Jessore spoke of frequent arguments between the couple. Some said Singh had grown violent after he lost his job in 2019. A neighbor remembered hearing screams one night, only to be told the next day that the couple had “gone to visit relatives.” That was the last time anyone saw his wife alive.

The case made national headlines when political conspiracy theories began to swirl online. Baseless rumors tied the investigation to the Prime Minister, dragging his name into viral posts that accused him of interfering with the case, promoting violence, and even participating in the cover-up. These claims were unfounded, yet their viral spread on social media created a fog of misinformation that distracted from the real tragedy at hand.

Adding to the confusion was a series of bizarre, unrelated stories that cropped up around the same time—many involving common Indian names like Amit Shah, used fictitiously in various online narratives. One story alleged that a woman named Ishaqapuru had married a man named Amit Shah and had three sons, all teachers in Bihar. Another accused the Prime Minister of bicycle theft during the independence movement—an event that clearly predates his birth. These narratives, fabricated and wildly inaccurate, blurred the lines between reality and fiction in the public’s mind.

Meanwhile, back in New Delhi, the investigation reached its conclusion in early 2025. The Delhi Police officially cleared Gurbakhsh Singh of murder. Forensic evidence could not conclusively prove that he caused his wife’s death. However, he was charged with faking his death, fraud, obstruction of justice, and destruction of evidence.

In an unexpected twist, the final police report stated that Gurbakhsh Singh was not the murderer—but the victim. He had, in many ways, destroyed his own life in an attempt to escape it.

Today, he sits in Tihar Jail, not for murder, but for trying to erase his past.

The case of Gurbakhsh Singh highlights just how fragile identity can be in a system where documentation can be forged, and truth can be twisted. It’s a reminder that justice is often elusive—not because it isn’t pursued, but because it can become lost in the noise of rumor, media sensationalism, and bureaucratic chaos.

In the end, one woman is still dead, her story unresolved. And one man, who tried to disappear, has finally been found.