After a retired Bharat Petroleum Corporation Limited (BPCL) officer from Bengaluru lost his only daughter to a sudden brain hemorrhage, he thought his world had ended.
What the BPCL official did not imagine was that in his darkest hour, he would have to fight another battle against corruption, cruelty, and complete indifference.
The official identified as K Sivakumar, who introduced himself as the former Chief Financial Officer (CFO) of BPCL took to LinkedIn to share his pain and the humiliations he faced while performing the last rites of his 34-year-old daughter—Akhshaya.
In the middle of his unbearable grief, when retired BPCL officer K. Sivakumar was trying to come to terms with the sudden loss of his only daughter, he found himself fighting another battle — not against fate, but against a system so callous that it demanded a price for every step of mourning.
From the ambulance that carried her body, to the police station that handed him her post-mortem report, to the crematorium and the city office that issued her death certificate — every door, he says, opened only after a bribe was paid.
His sorrow turned into searing anger at a world where even death comes with a receipt, and compassion has been replaced by corruption.
A Father’s Anguish
Akshaya, an IIM Ahmedabad graduate and a bright professional who had spent eight years at Goldman Sachs, passed away at home in Bengaluru on September 18, 2025, after working for more than a decade in the corporate world.
In his post, Sivakumar wrote that even as he mourned her death, he was forced to pay bribes at every step to ambulance operators, police officials, crematorium staff, and even the Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) office.
“Recently my only child passed away at age 34. The amount of open bribe being asked by ambulance, police for FIR and post-mortem report, crematorium for giving receipts, BBMP office for death certificate.”
Every official, he said, seemed to have a price and not an ounce of empathy.
“With no empathy to a father who lost his only child. Very sad state. I had money, I paid. What will the poor do,” he wrote.
Bribes at Every Turn
Sivakumar said that the ambulance driver demanded Rs 3,000 to transport his daughter’s body from Kasavanahalli to St John’s Hospital in Koramangala.
Even at the police station, where he had gone to collect the FIR and post-mortem report, he was made to pay.
“Since the police had to give a copy of the FIR and post mortem report, we met after four days and they openly demanded cash which I paid in the open police station,” he recounted.
Sivakumar questioned the lack of compassion shown by police officers and questioned, “Do police officials have a family or feeling when they demand money or speak rudely to a person who is already in trauma and in emotional turmoil?”
Struggle for a Simple Certificate
The harassment didn’t end there.
Sivakumar said he made repeated visits five days in a row to the BBMP office just to get a death certificate. Each time, he was told that staff were unavailable due to an ongoing “caste survey.”
The document was finally issued only after he reached out to a senior BBMP official and even then, he said, he was made to pay more than the official fee.
A Cry for Change
In the end, Sivakumar’s grief turned into a larger question one that resonates far beyond his personal tragedy.
“Can Narayana Murthy, Azim Premji (and) Mazumdar – bigwigs with billions of money – save this city?” he asked, in what many described as a plea from a broken father to the conscience of Bengaluru.
His post, which went viral within hours, drew widespread outrage and prompted swift action from the city’s police department.
Action Taken
Responding to the public anger, Whitefield Police announced immediate disciplinary measures.
“In connection with the incident mentioned in Sivakumar’s tweet, one PSI and one Police Constable of Bellandur Police Station have been immediately suspended.
The Police Department will not tolerate any such indecent or inappropriate behaviour under any circumstances,” the police said in an official statement.
Beyond a Single Case
For many, Sivakumar’s experience is not an isolated story, but a reflection of the everyday rot in public systems — where even grief has a price tag.
His decision to speak up, despite personal loss, has reopened an uncomfortable conversation— Why must citizens pay bribes for dignity — even in death?
