In the fourth left front ministry formed in 1998. Bimal Singha was given ministerial berth. But he was passing through a very crucial phase of his life. His brother Bikram was abducted from a place near Kamalpur days before the election to the legislative assembly. Bimal Singha was reportedly in a low spirit all through the swearing-in ceremony. Depression was eating him up. One very troubling fact was gnawing at his conscience. Bikram was not his blood. During his unrestrained days as a student leader, Bimal Singha had once stumbled upon an orphaned Bengali boy, five or six years of age, brought to a police station for some petty offence. The great humanitarian could not take the cruel fact that a helpless orphan was being punished for doing what he must for survival. He took the boy home along with himself, produced him before his mother and declared, ‘this is your youngest son now.’ Since that day, an orphaned boy had become a member of Bimal Singha’s family. In line with the names of the three brothers Biman, Bimal and Bidyut the new member was given the name Bikram. Abduction of Bikram was a severe blow to his family. He contacted all sorts of persons for the release of his brother. But the case seemed to take ambiguous turns. The miserable looks on the faces of Bikram’s children on the other hand seemed to sting Bimal Singha with the silent accusation that he was not doing enough for Bikram’s release as he was not his blood. This sting of compunction led Bimal Singha to take a rash decision that cost him his life. He could no longer suffer the disconsolate faces of Bikram’s wife and children.
On March 31 Bimal Singha was about to set off for Agartala. His wife at Agartala was instructed to prepare lunch for him. Kamalpur to Agartala is a three-hour’s journey. The last scenes were fast-forwarded. As Bimal Singha was about to climb into his car there came a message from one of his linkmen at whose hands he was a puppet now (he had established rapport with several dubious characters who claimed to have connection with Bikram’s abductors). He asked his brother Bidyut to accompany him. They stopped at Abhanga, a village on the Kamalpur-Ambassa road and at the instruction of the linkman, left the security personnel there and walked up to the bank of the river Dhalai, a distance of about 150 metres, to negotiate the release of their brother. The linkman urged them to cross the river on the other bank of which Bikram’s captors were waiting for them. The two brothers proceeded to wade across the emaciated stream of the river Dhalai. But they didn’t have to cross the stream. The killers had calculated beforehand that Bimal Singha might choose not to cross the stream at the last moment. So they had gunmen ready to shoot him the moment he approached the stream. A volley of bullets from sophisticated modern weapons extinguished the lives of the two brothers. As the bullet-ridden bodies of Bimal and Bidyut kissed the waters of the river Dhalai, so fondly portrayed in Bimal Singha’s works, Abhanga, the village on its bank witnessed a rare spasm of love and affection. All the villagers, all from each household, woman and children included, came out on the road wailing and crying, thumping their chests and banging their heads; some threw themselves on the ground. While others tore their hair in insensate anger. A CRPF officer from the neighboring camp who rushed to the spot had to comment that he had never seen such a frenzy of grief so spontaneously whipped up at the death of a political leader who was no member of their families.
On 31 March, that is hours after the killing, the Nikhil Bishnupria Manipuri Mahasabha shouted slogans at Kailashahar demanding C.B.I inquiry into the killing of the great leader. A huge amount of money was collected from the maddened crowed who spontaneously took to the street after hearing the news. Non-stop movements had to be launched for which the first thing needed was money. However, on the day of his sraddha it came to light that the Mahasabha had changed its decision and agreed on a C.I.D inquiry.