Freedom in the fortress

This story of Delhi’s Tihar jail in my 2 decades of photojournalist career is the longest ever written. Another great thing about this story is since I had already interviewed Kiran Bedi a week before this story could appear had received the Ramon Magsaysay award for community service. So in a way this story was a double whammy for Deccan Herald as well as me, since Kiran Bedi was to arrive later and every newspaper was going to miss the story and her interview. Lady luck they say, well and truly this Lady Kiran Bedi’s luck was to be showered on me. This story got full page display with pictures on the Sunday Herald edition, on July 24, 1994.

Delhi’s Tihar Jail, where nearly 9,000 offenders are lodged, has been an educational experience for its diverse inmates. S Shiv Kumar spends sometime in the jail-cum-ashram and talks to the force behind the changes, Inspector General of Prisons Kiran Bedi, who won the Ramon Magsaysay Award for community service earlier this month.

On the outskirts of the capital is a small colony with huge walls, which are heavily –guarded. The inmates of this modern-day fortress are people from all parts of the world, from different religious back-grounds, herded together for a single reason: crime. Tihar jail is also the current address of a notorious person –perhaps the world’s most dreaded criminal, who masterminded the ‘great escape’ or jailbreak less than a decade ago, in 1986. Charles Sobhraj –nicknamed he ‘Cobra’ for his cold-blooded murders of bikini-clad women –has since lived in relative quite in Tihar jail.
But Tihar is no mere jail, as the princess of dacoits, Phoolan Devi declared. A free bird now, Phoolan declared after serving a decade long sentence that she enjoyed her imprisonment. She also learnt to read and write in Hindi, while in jail. “Now, I am an educated women and an independent member of society.
The jail is surrounded by two huge walls, with machinegun totting police of the Tamil Nadu Special Group perched atop, their eagle eyes scanning all directions. The jail is made up of four independent prisons – the largest one as been trifurcated since the escape of the ‘Cobra’. Each prison houses between 1000 and 2700 inmates. The inner walls of the prison are revealing, marked by the sayings of Mahatma Gandhi and various religious leaders.
The cell in which Phoolan Devi had served her sentence has now been turned into a library, with a range of volumes including novels, sci-fi, even real life dramas. Shanti, in her early 30s, is the ward leader here. “Every year, a person is elected by his or her fellow inmates to maintain inter-discipline.” The leader, in turn, appoints a few trusted aides to “keep an eye on the trouble makers.” But, what happens if the leader indulges in trouble? Well, the individual is then stripped of the post, and a new person is appointed, she explains.
Shanti, who has already served five years behind bars, is full praise for Inspector-General of Prisons Kiran Bedi (who took over two years ago). “It’s only now that he inmates are being treated as human beings. She is not only trying to educate us, but also giving us a second life....”
Inmates at Tihar follow strict rules similar to the army regimen, laid down by senior inmates, elected or appointed to form a panchayat. These people are constantly in touch with senior officers of the jail. They allot various projects to different prisons and wards, such as library management, sports, yoga, and the literacy drive.
Between 9am and 11am on weekdays, lessons are compulsory for Tihar residents. Among languages, they can choose between Urdu, Punjabi, French, Italian, Arabic, English and Hindi.
A Nigerian in her late 20s, Mrs Glory, was spotted teaching a class, with a book in her hand. She was arrested under the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic substances act in 1990. Glory, who teaches English, has for the past year been learning Italian and French during her leisure. Knowledge is important, she stresses. Once she is released, she plans to go to Europe and spend the rest of her life there. “If I know the basics first, life will be so much easier for me,” she adds.
At Tihar, inmates who give birth during imprisonment, or those who cannot live without their children, have nothing to worry about. All the women’s wards have a kindergarten attached, supervised by a teacher between 9am to 4pm. So the kids do not miss out on education, while remaining close to their parents.


Women Inmates at a daily class for learning Hindi and other subjects along with a recycling unit (top left), a male inmate learns French as a prison guard share a moment of fun with the kid of a inmate (top right), and the cell of Phoolan Devi, which is now converted into a Library (left).

Mrs Shrimati Papa, an inmate for three years, who recently gave birth to a daughter in her cell with the help of doctors from the prison clinic, said, “I thought that nobody would help me but the whole prison, including the prison staff, came forward to help me. They were seen rejoicing when I gave birth to Bharathi.” Pointing out to others, she says, “Without them, my daughter and I would not have lived to see this day.”
Bedi has taken a positive step by asking all Tihar inmates to apply for Open University programmes. About 2,000 of them have already applied; and 35 percent of them have passed at the very first attempt.
Deep Chand, in his late 40s, who has spend 13 years in Tihar so far, has passed the high school examinations and now applied for the university. “If not for the encouragement given to me by memsahib, I would not have given it a try,” he states.
Mrs. Sheila Abharam, in her late 30s, who passed the BA exam, is now learning computers. “With a diploma in my hand, I do not need to rely on my husband or other members of my family; I will be independent and self-sufficient.”
Tihar does not offer formal knowledge alone; it offer yoga and job work, too. One of its most popular courses in vipasana (a form of yoga); two months ago, more than 1,000 inmates participated when the discipline was taught. Now, the prison has vipasana training centre for the benefit of the inmates.
To a person not well versed in yoga, vipasana means nothing. Not so in the case of a inmate, who was born in London, brought up in Australia, and now lives in Hong Kong. “Well about this yoga is that it teaches a person to be patient, and to love everything that nature has to offer.” What does vipasana mean? It relates to when one lets the mind rest from all the happenings in the world, concentrating instead on a single leaf of a tree; that’s when one attains vipasana. “When I get out of these God-forsaken bars, I will go back to Hong Kong and set up a yoga centre – to help teenagers, hooked onto drugs, to take up this drug. Look at me now. Don’t I look fit? You want to know the reason why. Well, I am addicted to yoga; that’s why.”
‘No Smoking’ signboards are visible all around the premises. And the guards on duty follow their bidding religiously. When I spoke to a constable on duty, he said: “If I start smoking in front of the inmates, who are here to reform themselves, I will be tempting them, instead of helping them.”
The Tihar inmates are busy throughout the day, attending to tasks like making bread, converting waste into manure, and so on. The proceeds from these activities go to the prison welfare fund.
The inmates often use the huge library at their disposal, with constantly updated magazines and newspapers. “This helps the inmates to keep up with the outside world,” says Bedi. The library also contains legal books, to help the lawyers of the inmates to refer to material relevant to their cases.
The prison staff mingle with the inmate’s every evening, holding cricket, football or volleyball matches, which enable the inmates to take their minds off work and relax.
Mohammed Maqbal from Jammu and Kashmir, a TADA detainee, said of the prison” “I killed so many innocent people three years ago. But today, when the inmates show respect and love for me, it makes me feel bad for what I did before.” When he was arrested and send to Tihar, he assumed he would be treated badly by the police, only to find that he was wrong.
Tihar is unlikely to sop marching forward because there are still more surprises in store for its inmates. Bedi reveals that plans are afoot to get all prisons computerised, with the help of the National Information Centre. Besides, a cable network will soon enable inmates to get good entertainment.
I left after spending more than six hours inside Tihar, amidst quite and happy surroundings, where human beings are treated with respect. At the main entrance, on my way out, I happened to run into a passer-by, only to be rudely told: “Do you have no eyes?”
With a jolt, I was brought back to reality. I suddenly realised that I was outside the world of Tihar once more.

Man in a great hurry

This small piece written by me was published in the Deccan Herald reporter’s dairy. What was nice in this small piece was that I wrote about a man who transformed the face of the electorate and also the fort which holds such electoral process. I think by now you would have taken a guess? Yes it was none other than T N Seshan the Chief Election Commissioner – CEC of the Election Commission of India.

Countdown has begun… that’s how Chief Election Commissioner T N Seshan’s encounter begins with the press photographers in Delhi every time they come across the ebullient former civil servant.
Seshan, who has a penchant for publicity and would invariably like to see his pictures in newspapers, normally sets a time-limit for lensmen to ‘shoot’ him before every important meeting he attends.

On September 28, 1994 too, when he, along with the other two Election Commissioners, met the leaders of various political parties, the countdown… was repeated by Seshan as photographers jostled with each other to capture the rotund CEC in their cameras at the Nirvachan Sadan, the headquarters of the Election Commission. Looking at the battery of lensmen ready to ‘snipe’ at him in the small, clustered hall of the Sadan, Sehsna cried out at the cameramen “the countdown ha begun” and to no surprise of the photographers started counting: 1000, 999, 998, … 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0 …” and yelled ‘Now get out all of you.’ “The meeting will start now.” As the CEC continues to be the prize catch, he was promptly there to meet all the newspapers the next morning.

NSD readies its Stage for South

This story was written when I had visited a friend of mine during my stint at the Deccan Herald Bureau office at New Delhi some time in 1993. Since it had a south connect and more so with Bangalore I went back to the office and discussed it with my seniors who asked me to write it and send it for the Sunday pages.

Theatre: National School of Drama’s decision to open its first regional center in Bangalore augurs well for theatre in Karnataka, Writes S Shiv Kumar

After several years of debate on strengthening theater traditions in various regions of the country, and a recommendation of the Haskar Committee, the Delhi-based National School of Drama (NSD) has decided to open schools at Bangalore, Bombay, Calcutta, Guwahati, Varanasi/Patna and Chandigarh.
The first of these zonal centers is expected to begin functioning in Bangalore in March. It will be a resource-cum research center (RRC) which will conduct its activities in the local languages.
NSD Director Kirthi Jain told Deccan Herald that these regional centers were meant to rejuvenate local theater traditions. Bangalore has been chosen as the first center because “it has people from virtually all parts of the country. All languages of the south have a presence in the city, which will enable the center to turn mobile and access villages and tap the right potential”.
The Bangalore center- which will work in co-ordination with State level cultural bodies-will begin short-term courses of 15 days to two months, for serious students from all over south India to be chosen on the basis of entrance tests and interviews. Experts like G V Shivananda, B V Karanth, Prasanna, Raghunandan and Walter D’Souza are expected to guide the students and monitor their progress. Prominent NSD alumni in the State like C Basavalingaiah, Srivivas Prabhu, Jayatheertha Joshi and Chidambara Rao Jambe will be on the faculty.
The State Government has assured the NSD that it will provide the premises to house the regional center. “Otherwise, we will hire an apartment to start with,” says Keerthi Jain, which hopes funding agencies like the UNESCO will lend a helping hand later. Depending on the response in Bangalore, “we will start in Calcutta followed by Bombay. That would mean a center in each of the four zones.”
All these days, as she points out, people from various parts of the country came to Delhi only to realize that they were taught in Hindi. This will change now. The regional center will conduct training programmes, promote research, encourage children’s theater through workshops and activities in schools, undertake field work, mount exhibitions, take up documentation and data collection. It will also coordinate the activities of university drama departments assist them in their activities.
An advisory committee with representatives from all the States, the NSD, the regional centers and the repertory companies, and headed by the NSD chief, will be formed to achieve these objectives. A decision is yet to be taken on who will head the regional center.