Shahjan Bibi’s eyes cloud over with confusion one moment and shine with defiance the other. She is struggling to cope with the tag of being “the mother-in-law of a terrorist”.

There is no clarity about the identity of her son-in-law Mukhtar Ahmed six days after he was picked up for buying SIM cards later found on the slain terrorists in Mumbai.

“As far as I know, he was a policeman and was doing his job well. It is not clear to me why he has been arrested,” says Shahjan Bibi, in the 5ftx10ft flat of a nondescript building on Pemantle Street, off Rafi Ahmed Kidwai Road.

Mukhtar married Meenu, Shahjan’s second born, 12 years ago.

A Calcutta police team arrested Mukhtar in Delhi on December 6 and touted him as a prize catch in the Mumbai terror attacks probe. But sources in the Jammu and Kashmir police said he was an undercover agent on a mission to penetrate the ranks of the Lashkar-e-Toiba.

Calcutta police have pressed charges against Mukhtar for the illegal purchase of SIM cards that were linked to the Mumbai massacre, but the Jammu and Kashmir police haven’t made Mukhtar’s identity official.

“I have never seen Mukhtar in uniform, but I did see a police uniform and a cap in his room when I visited him in Srinagar two years ago,” says Shahjan.

“My daughter and their three kids were a happy family,” says the 52-year-old, her eyes moistening.

Shahjan, a widow for close to two decades, raised her three children — daughters Husna, Meenu and son Shabbir — by working as a domestic help. Now with Shabbir, a graduate, working in a Dubai hotel, the financial burden has been eased.

“But I don’t know how to get my son-in-law released. I wanted to wish him Id-Mubarak but could not muster up the courage to go and meet him in Lalbazar,” she admits.

Shahjan’s world was rudely jolted when her house was raided by the cops in the dead of the night last week. “I was shocked to find myself surrounded by policemen. Then I was told about the arrest. They searched our house thoroughly,” she recounts softly.

“I spoke to my daughter the next day. She too could not believe that Mukhtar had any links with terrorists. She was crying inconsolably.”

Talk of Meenu and Mukhtar takes Shahjan back to the time when they got married from this Pemantle Street address 12 years ago. “Mukhtar used to drive an autorickshaw and he wanted to marry my Meenu. I told him that I could not give him anything other than my daughter and he agreed,” she recalls.

Mukhtar left the city two years after the wedding and got a job with the Jammu and Kashmir police some five years ago, says his mother-in-law.

“He would visit Calcutta at least twice a year. I believe he is innocent. I have always thought him to be a good policeman.”