One token means one inmate’s freedom!

 Finally, Mr. Dhamne, gave a nod to one of his officers- “Take them and please ensure the arrangements.”

He very politely said “Yes Sir” to him and then turned to our side to proceed for the venue. We all stood, wished Mr Dhamne and left his cabin. Now, it was time to go inside the actual premise. I was told to make the entry of my all group members. First I was told that everyone will make his/her entry in register individually. Later on, I was advised that I can only write the names of my group members and sign at one place. I did the same. Now, we were asked to deposit our money bags. Mobiles were already deposited before entering in the cabin of Mr. Dhamne. Everyone was hesitant. One official said, “Sir! Your money would be safe here. We cannot give you any guarantee inside.”

“Why? After all, you or your officials will be there no?” I simply asked.

He said, “We would certainly be there Madam!. But you would be busy in your program. We would be here and there for all arrangements. This is off time. Prisoners will be roaming here and there. We can’t stop anyone. Suppose someone will do something wrong, how will we come to know about the actual culprit.” He said, “After all, this is jail Madam and they are prisoners. We can’t trust on them fully. Now it’s on you to decide.”

We thought for a while and deposited our purses and money bag over there. We were told to count money before handing over. Some group members did, some did not.

Our other belongings, which we were carrying to take inside were checked. I had a very domestic kind of camera. After a little discussion, we were allowed to take it along with us, subject to concentrate on the activity photographs only. I agreed. In fact, I did not want to take any unlawful act. This will not only harm me, but will take away my opportunity to do something creative with the inmates.  

All male group members were given a token. Signatures were taken by them. Group members were warned very seriously to keep the token very safely and will return while going back.

“Otherwise…?”

“Otherwise, you will not be allowed to go out. Official, who was giving token, said, “If you will lose this token and suppose, one inmate will get it, it means, he will get out from here by showing it. One token means, one person’s free pass. …We can’t recognize and memories each and every faces of thousand inmates.”

I was not given any token. One member raised his hand towards me. He smiled, “Madam is a woman. This jail is for men only. So madam cannot live inside the jail. And if by any chance, she will be inside, we will find out her very easily. So she is not required any token.”

Subodh quickly teased me, “Privilege class!”  We all laughed.

Assistant Superintendant ordered to open the gate. The Big Inside Gate was opened. We entered inside. It was looking that we are traveling to some mysterious place. Only some filmy music was missing. But the moment gate opened and we entered inside, I just wowed! Huge premise! Clean and green! I praised it. The officer said that this all are maintained by the inmates only. I thought, the same people, who are here as prisoners, are maintaining cleanliness and green environment here. But same people ruin the concept of cleanliness, when they are out.

We were going towards hall. In our left hand side, we found a different kind of structure. Under my curiosity, I asked officer. He said, this is Egg cell (Anda Cell). Serious and dangerous prisoners are kept here. We don’t allow them to go out except for their dates of hearing of their cases. He was giving us a little information towards the jail, its barracks and number of prisoners. These were very common information, anybody can get it. But getting these information by reading in newspapers or hearing on channels are quite different as compare to listning the same from an officer of the jail. 

It was around 11.30 am. It was open time. So prisoners were busy in their chores. Some were washing their clothes, someone watering the plants, some were busy in trimming the plants. One inmate, sitting near tap was only in underwear. The moment he saw us, he wrapped himself with his towel and started cursing jail officials for not informing him that some outsiders are coming, specially a lady. I saw, he immediately entered inside his barrack. I turned my views towards other angle, where some were sitting and chitchatting. It was a huge hall. Around twenty people were sitting there. They were looking like tiny stars before the sun- type of huge hall. In fact, I also could not realize and just asked, “Oh that much only?”

The officer said, “You only had told us that 20-25 people would be enough for you. We can give you people as much as you want. I looked at Subodh. He gave an eye on the crowd and said, “We won’t mind to get some five more people. The officer said to his staff. And within no time, a big group had entered in the hall. I became nervous.

We had a limited drawing materials with us, not to fulfill the need of such a big group. The officer was looking at us. He laughed and said, “No problem! You let us know, how many participants you want. We will provide you as much. And he started asking, “Who wants to participate in this workshop?’

Someone asked, “What type of this workshop is Sir?”

“Art. Painting. Drawing. You know Owale no? He paints. Similarly, they had come to tell you how you can draw? Had you draw anytime?”

Some had raised their hands. The officer again said, “Whoever wants to participate may stay here. Rest of you can go.

The big crowed had entered like a storm, got disappeared within no time. Some of them stayed back. Now, the crowd was of around thirty odd people. Subodh said, Now, we will start.” (Contd…)

Hot tea was served in the Jail.

We discussed in detail with Subodh, who had agreed to conduct workshop for the inmates at   Thane Central Jail. He was equally exited like me. We discussed on- “How many people will go there? How interestingly will we conduct workshop? What time we will go? How will we go?” Jail superintendant had warned us that big gathering should be avoided. I was also in favor of the same. Finally we decided that Subodh, me, Vidha and her friend Ali Akbar Mehta, who was also the then student of JJ School of Art, Mumbai and a very good aspiring artist, will go together. Ali has a very strong background of art from his family. His grandfather Tyab Mehta, is a world class renowned artist. Subodh suggested that we all will travel by his car along with materials.

And on scheduled Saturday, We all three, Me, Vidha and Ali met at a decided place, where Subodh joined us. He has a luxury car. I was still going with my Maruti Zen only. We kept all drawing material in the dickey. Subodh took front seat. His driver was a young guy and very good in driving. He helped us a lot during the workshop also. It was looking that Subodh has trained him as his assistant. Without asking anything, he understands the instruction of Subodh and do the work efficiently.  

We all three took back seat. Soon Ali slept. We were also taking our nap in between. We had started quite earlier to avoid traffic. Luckily we did not get any traffic that day. With the result, we reached much earlier than the schedule.

We all were thinking- “What to do?” Finally we decided; let us search some moderated place for breakfast. Within no time, we got that. Everyone was told to take heavy snacks. We cannot expect any hospitality from jail. We had bought some water bottle to take inside for our drinking purpose.

After breakfast and tea, we were near to schedule. We enter in the premise. As usual, we were stopped- “Thamba Madam! Kuthe janar?” (Madam, please stop. Where you would like to go?”)

I narrated- “We have come from AVITOKO. Today, we have our art workshop for the inmates. These are my group members and these are the materials for conducting workshop.”

They saw us and our bundles. One senior official nodded his head and we moved ahead. Again, the big lawn area was there- with green trees, flower plants, police vans, and above our tricolor national flag. Huge gate was before us. We were moving towards the gate and in the middle, again we were stopped, “Ho Madam, Kuthe jaycha?”

Again same answer was repeated. It was a little irritating. But we understand that they are doing their duty. We don’t have any right to interrupt. And our irritation has no meaning for security.  

We got green signal from here and once again we started moving towards the gate. I was ahead. I stood in front of the gate. Security from inside opened the whole of the gate and asked me the purpose of my visit. I once again, narrated the same, but included that I have been called be Dhamne Saheb.

By listing the name of his superntendant, he became a little polite and said, “OK. You stand over there. We are informing Saheb.” I moved towards a corner and stood. My group members were also moved to that place. They were looking the surrounding and at me. I said them what the orderly had told to me. Several kinds of people were going in and coming out from the gate. They were contract labor, prisoners, policemen and jail officials.

Almost after five minutes, again the whole of the gate got opened for me. My name was called. One person told me, “Madam, they are calling you.”

I moved towards the gate. One official from inside had confirmed my name. Then he permitted me to come inside. I entered along with my group people. He asked, “So many people?”

I said, “Yes. We have our program today no.”

All entered inside. No, it was not the inside area. Again there was another huge gate inside. In between, there was a cabin for the jailer, a place for depositing the belongings of new inmates, a place for frisking of new entrants and deep inside, the huge and grand cabin of Superintendant and other small cabins for his other officers. We were told to deposit our money and mobiles. I said, “We want to meet Dhamne Saheb first.”

“For that also, you have to deposit your mobiles here.”

We have no options but to deposit. It was our first group visit. Before that, I had taken an art and theatre workshop for women inmates, which I had narrated earlier. This was a big event for us. We all were curious.

We went inside. Mr. Rajendra Dhamen was sitting in his chair. His uniform was supporting his rough and tough personality. His cap was hanged on a hanger. A mirror was there in his back side corner.

He wished us and offered the seat. Water was served. I introduced everyone. He welcomed everyone with a grand yet a little mischievous smile. He asked me, “How many inmates you want for the workshop?”

I said, “As discussed earlier, 25-30 people would be enough. We have come along with the preparation for that population only. Getting more people would be difficult to handle”

“How you will teach them?”

“Its experiential. We exactly, can’t explain, but Mr. Subodh will be the right person to elaborate.” I smiled and indicated my finger towards Subodh.

Subodh, in his soft but firm voice explained – “We will do some exercise first to re-orient the participants. Then we will guide them to paint. At present, I don’t know, what they will paint, because everything will depend on their imagination.”

“You please come and see.” I said humbly.

Mr. Dhamne smiled, “Yes, definetly.”

Tea was served. We all took it without speaking any word. In fact, we all were willing to go inside and to start the programme as we were running sort of time. But we can’t say the same. So we all were taking sips of tea without saying any word. No need to mention that Mr. Dhamne was watching all of us very minutely while performing his other duties, such as signing the papers, instructing his subordinates, picking up the phones, talking to other visitors etc.  (Contd.)    

Art Workshop in Jail!

After declaration of result, we all took a deep breath. Subodh, once again asked for tea. We all were smiling. Everyone got engaged in chit-chatting along with hot tea. But, I was restless in excitement. My mind was tingling. Thoughts were traveling from one corner to another. One side, I was very happy with this competition’s  result. It was assuring me that I was right in my belief that talent is beyond the barricade of age, race, cat, creed etc. After all, a four year old child had competed with a 45 years old competitor and won the first prize! A jail inmate has won the coveted Judge’s special award! I am not wrong! I said in my mind.

Every work brings some more challenges. You cross one barrier, other will stand over there to welcome you. I had another challenge. Awarding winners of this world is not a big issue. How the winner, stay in the world of foru cornered wall would be awarded? I shared my worry to Subodh and Sarita. My daughter Vidha Saumya was also there. They thought for a while and said, “ First you inform them about the award and then ask the way out to reward him. They themselves will give you the way.”

“I am sure that they will not allow to him (winner) to come out to receive the award.”

“Then we will go there and give him the award.” Subodh said.

“That I wanted from you people.” I said.  Secondly, I don’t want to travel such a long distance just for giving an award.” Subodh saw me with question mark. I said,” We must go for the day. We should organize some workshop for other inmates. Let them also have an opportunity to express themselves…..And this would not be possible without you people.”

“First you send your letter. Just wait for their response and we will decide accordingly.” Said Subodh.

And rest is history. The moment jail authority had received AVITOKO letter, they called us. Mr Karnik, Jailer of Thane Central Jail wished and thanked us. We also expressed our happiness and gratitude that they are keeping the welfare measure for inmates. Now I came to the point about rewarding the winner. As I expected, he simply said that it’s not possible to send inmate out. But better you talk to our Bada Saheb, means the Superintendent.

He connected line to the Superintendent. As I earlier said, it was Sri Rajendra Dhamne, the Superintendent of Thane Central Jail. He also expressed his gratitude towards us for giving a chance to his inmate to participate in the competition in open category. I came on the point. He also said with blank tone, “We cannot send our inmate out to receive the award…..Yes, There is procedure. But you have to follow the entire procedure and that also, I am not sure, you will get the permission. Why don’t you come here and reward him?”

“We don’t have any problem. But we don’t want to come just tp perform this ritual only. …We want to orgainise an art workshop for your inmates. Let some more people get an opportunity to express themselves through the art.”

That is not a problem. But, you must know that we don’t provide any NGO to any monetary support. We will just give you the permission, place and participants.

“Means 3 PPPs. I said jokingly. He laughed a loud.

“No problems. We will bring art material and our experts to run the show.” I said.

“Let’s meet first. We will jot down the program later on.” Phone was disconnected.

But I am not. Disconnection from one place had connected me to other space. Arranging art materials- papers, colors, brushes and above all, experts was my main look out. I had just enthusiasm, a passion. Rest of all, I don’t had any idea about the types of paper, quality of colors, number of brushes. I said to Vidha. She was at that time the student of JJ School of Art. She was in the same art field, so she was aware about these technical things. She assured me to bring the materials, but first the expert should be decided and his/her need to conduct the workshop should be explained. Then only, materials can be procured.

Now, the time was to hunt the experts. I asked Sarita very first, whether she would like to take this workshop. But due to some unavoidable circumstances, she showed her inability.

I asked Subodh with sinking heart. What will happen if he will also refuse? He asked, when do you want to do? Take a time for any Saturday and let me know.”

“That I will do. Will you please give me the details for workshop material so that I can tell Vidha to get them. Or you yourself talk to her. I think, this will more convenient.”

“Don’t worry. I will manage this part.”

I felt light. Now, I will have to go to jail and meet the Superintendent. How I met him, you had read in my earlier episode. (Contd…) 

And Judge’s Special Award goes to a jail inmate!

A big “Q” was before me. Who would be the best persons to judge these entries? It was necessary to understand the concept of the competition by them, otherwise again the same questions of age, state, genders etc will arrive. A big list was there carrying big names. I had chosen two names- Mr. Subodh Poddar and Ms. Sarita Chauhan.

 

Subodh was a creative Director with a leading Advertisement Company. He is a very good artist, not in the field of painting, but he had learnt Odishi dance to create his own genre “Dance Scapes”, where dancers dance and he paints the Bhavas and Mudras of dancers. It’s an experience to see it. I was one of the luckiest to see his heart stealing program of “Dance Scapes”.   He had done several shows of it along with almost all leading dancers of India and abroad. On my request, he had done a show for AVITOKO’s Annual program also. Subodh is a very kind hearted person. I know him from the day; I arrived in Mumbai, where he helped me selflessly to complete my assignments, given to me by Ms. Mrinal Pandey, the then editor of “Saptahik Hindustan”, a weekly magazine of Hindustan Times group.  

Sarita Chauhan is a Delhi based self taught artist. She had had several group and solo shows in Delhi and other cities of India. In late twenties, she had shifted Mumbai along with his family. She is a very down to earth person. She was kind enough to take few classes during AVITOKO’s Art Workshops. She had given her services to other NGOs also.

We invited them and elaborated the concept and objectives of the competition. They were thrilled to see the entries. But it was a little difficult for them also to digest the concept. They just screamed, “Are you mad?”

I said, “Perhaps. Madness only can create a new world.” They smiled.

Evaluation was started. First elimination round was done. That was not a big task. Anyone can do it. Second elimination round was also done. It was a little difficult, but not a big deal. Now, third and final round! I was nervous. It’s time for real challenge. Whether I would be successful with my objectives to conduct this competition in open category? Really, there were entries from 45 years old grownups to 4 years child. All were in open category. Participants had shown their faith to this event.

I was seeing judges procedure. Both Subodh and Sarita were very seriously evaluating entries.  Select entries were there. Tug of war was between two entries- Which one should be declared as First? Each and every aspect of the paintings was being discussed by both of them. Sarita was thinking for one painting and Subodh was stick on another. It was also explored that whether both should be declared as First?” They asked me. I very humbly said that “I don’t believe in lottery system. You both are great artists. Please have a new and fresh look for them and decide only one entry for First Prize.”

“Then first, we will have tea.” Subodh broke the tensed atmosphere. We all smiled. Hot tea was served to everyone. After the tea, again both works of art were examined by both of them. Finally, Subodh convinced Sarita about his decision. He explained about his choice of entry with all valid reasons. Sarita nodded her head. I was told about the decision- “This entry will go for first prize.”  

Second, third and consolation prizes did not take much time.  There was one more painting, kept aside by the judges. Subodh took this entry and said, “With your permission, I would like to give judge’s special prize to this entry. Sarita, do you agree with me?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Sarita said.

Subodh turned to my side, “How about you?”

I was thinking about the fund. We, at AVITOKO were working without fund. Like mind people were there, who used to help us as and when needs arise. Subodh perhaps got my hesitation. He immediately declared –“And prize amount would be given by me…..I just can’t leave this painting as it is catching my attention from the beginning.”

All entries initially had been given with their numbers only. Names and other information were hidden. After declaration, envelops of names were open. We all just screamed- “O my God!” The first prize winner was really a four year old child from National School of Clean City, Mumbai. Second prize winner was a man. He had attached his photo also along with his entry, and in his photo, he was looking like 40-45 years old. I said Subodh, “See the result of my madness. Art and talent do not see the boundaries of any limitation. I am happy that my belief is saved.”

It was one more time to scream. Entry, which won the judge’s special prize was of a jail inmate, whose painting was sent for this open category competition by the authority of Thane Central Jail. I smiled but tears came in my eyes. Subodh hugged me and Sarita took me in her lap. ….(Contd.)   

An Entry from the Jail

Every year, we at AVITOKO, were conducting an art competition on national level in open category. This year, we did an experiment and kept this competition away from age or gender criteria. The moment, we declared this competition, resistant came from all corners. Everyone was furious. They were throwing N number of questions- “Why is this open category?” “Do you think that a 4 year child will compete with a 40 year old matured, grown up artist?” “Why it is not only for Maharashtra?” “Who will participate in such type of bohemian competition, where no age, gender, state demarcation has been given?” “You are a woman. Why didn’t you keep this competition for women only?”

I just said, “Art and talent don’t see age, gender or any geographical demarcation. We believe in experiment. It would be interesting to see a 40 year grown up artist is competing with a 4 year old new bud. So let us see whether a 4 year old child would be able to give a fight to one grownups or a woman participant’s work is better than a male artist. After all, this all depends on every individual’s talents and thoughts!”

Some people were convinced, many of them were not! But entry started coming. A child rang me one day by asking, “Aunty, I had sent my entry.” I replied, “Yes my Dear child! I had received it.” Immediately he asked, “When I will get the prize?” I said, “Participation is most important than winning a prize. First, you should be happy that you have created something and you had able to send it for a competition. Getting prize is not very important.” He cut me in between only, “But my mother had said that you will get prize, if you will send your painting. Chhi:! I wasted my time.”

I could not reply the boy nor I could deal with his so called disappointment. But I got the general nerve of parents. All parents want that their ward will always be number one in the race. They motivate them also, though many of parents still are hooked with the study of their children only. In spite of this, the parents, send their children for any developmental competition or in any program, they want that their child should be at par. No harm to think. No harm to dream. No harm to dream for their child. But first of all, they must be aware of their children capacity. Second, they must learn themselves that no child would be a jack of all. Third, they should understand that participation is must and it gives an exposure to a child, which help them throughout in their lives.  But, in number game, parents don’t understand these points and try to be hard impractically so that their ward should shine on the sky. This child and his mother were the example of it.

Entry was coming. I was getting excited day by day. I approached some of schools, whom I knew to send their children entries. Even, I said that their teaching and non teaching staff can also participate into it. I approached a social organization, National Society of Clean City, Mumbai, where my elder daughter used to go. I had seen their method of teaching. I had seen the work of art of their children. This Organisation was working for the street and under privileged children. They have their history and record that many of their children had won President Awards. They sent their entries.

Among them, I got an entry from a jail. First I got a little nervous to see the stamp of jail. When I opened envelop, I just screamed- “O my God! An inmate had sent his entry. A letter from the jailer was attached, saying that they are sending an entry from his jail inmate for this competition. Please accept his entry.”

I was thrilled, but I did not disclose this to anyone. I was a little apprehensive that if I will disclose, people may be sympathies with him. So, let him compete with others.

Last date for receiving entry was over. Now it’s time of evaluation. (Contd….) 

Sunday and Workshop!!!!!!

Next day, I reached jail as per my schedule. I entered inside the jail and got mesmerized! God! Is some VIP coming on a visit? Full ground, lawn and open area was full of pomp and show. Cleaning derive was in full swing. Pool of water was logged here and there. Some inmates were watering the plants, some were sweeping the lawn, some were trimming the plants and some were washing the ground. I asked women constable. She simply said- “Aj Sunday hai na!”

After crossing the open area, I entered into female barrack. There also was the same scenario. Smell of various kinds of soap, detergent, hair oil were travelling in the atmosphere. Mother inmates were bathing their children and cleaning their cloths. Children, who took their bath, were playing with other children. They were running in the area. Their smile and laugh were divine. It was immaterial for them that they are put up at which place! Whether they should be kept at such type of places! Mothers and children, both have their own restrictions. Normally, they were not from very well being families. So, to take care of one child by their relatives, means cutting food from their own children. In some cases, both the parents were in jails. Father is in male barrack and mother in female. As per jail’s rule, children will have to stay along with their mothers only.

Sometimes, mother and child bond becomes very emotional. I remember, once I was standing inside jail for getting my belonging back, which I had deposited at the entrance. One woman inmate was called there to meet her son. Son was approximately 13-14 years old. All the time, they were just crying. When meeting time got over and son was asked to go back, he just caught his mother tightly and started crying loudly- “Aai, tu jaoo nakos.!” (Maa, don’t go away). Tears were rolling down from their eyes. The whole atmosphere became so emotional, that even jail personnel’s eyes got wet.  

In women barrack also, cleaning of barracks, cloths were in full swing. Women personnel were guiding them to clean the surroundings and area. Other women inmates were also busy in washing their utensils, cloths. Some were bathing, some were drying their hair, some were combing, some were chit-chatting with other inmates. They were there like a commune. They were not looking sad at all! I was a little surprised. Later on, some inmates said, “Initially we all are in the same conditions- upset, sad, depressed. We don’t eat food for many days. We passed many sleepless nights. But how long! How long other inmates will console you? They will also abandon you, if you keep continue crying. Gradually, we learn to live in the given situation. We start laughing, eating, chit chatting and doing all other normal chores.”

“This is the life and this is the philosophy of life!” I thought and reached to first floor of the barrack. There was also the same scenario. Those, who had participated in yesterday’s workshop and had taken the stationary. They were behaving with me like a stranger. No one had put any attention on me. I looked at lady constable. She was looking quite unhappy. Before I could ask anything, she told me- “Don’t you know, today is Sunday? A holiday? Why did you come today? Till 12 O’clock, they will clean barrack, will wash their cloths etc. 2 O’clock will be their lock up time. Today is half day.”

“I was not aware. If it is so, I should have been advised by the authority.”  I said. I was also thinking that if it’s a holiday, I must not disturb them. I may be very enthusiastic, but I don’t have any right to intervene in any one’s privacy. But, today, I was helpless. I had to conduct the program. Otherwise, I will have to return with empty handed.

I looked at some of the inmates, who had yesterday attended workshop in second half. One lady, looking highly educated, said me in English, “Just wait. Let me finish my work. Soon I will join you.” Some other also said the same. I have no options but to wait. Suddenly one bell rang and every one ran towards down. I was told, this is the time of food distribution. There is no kitchen in female barrack. Food comes from male kitchen. If you reach early, you may get a little better food in a little better quantity. People in last may not get left over or even may not get also. So everyone was in the same mood and mode- to get hot, fresh and good food in a good quantity. We, at home, make hundred tantrums on food and here!

After collecting food, the lady, who had promised me, had arrived. Some others also came. I started workshop with theatrical exercises and then shifted towards art creativity. Before coming here, I had learnt some methods of drawing and paintings from my daughter. Among them, the very first lesson was not to give pencil and eraser to any participant. Let them work directly with the color. Let them think and paint. Let them draw the lines, whatever they want. Finally, they themselves will be able to find out some pictures, scenes from and within the lines. I had also practiced. I found it was quite interesting. Exploring something by you is always very exciting.

I practiced the same. My daughter was supposed to join me. In the meantime, I  gave them papers and colors and full freedom to draw. They started. I had taken lots of old magazines for exercise. One inmates came and asked me, “Cant you manage your exercise with old newspapers, if I give you? Will you give me these magazines to read? Don’t tear them please! What harm if someone wants to read? My purpose was getting fulfilled. I happily exchanged.

Gradually, other inmates also joined. The lady, who assured me earlier, started telling her story that how she was cheated by her employer, which is a private bank, just for a meager amount of Rs. Fifteen thousand. She told, “My husband is working in Gulf. You may think, that what is the value for me for Rs 15,000/-. I took up this job just to pass my time.” She added, “Good, you came. At least, we got some time to sing, dance and express ourselves.” Another said, “First time, I laughed over here.”

Two girls, from Bengal, drew a house, a boy and a lady. One said, “She is my mother.” Another said, “This is my house and this is the boy, whom I want to marry.” I used my little knowledge of  Bangla, while talking to them. They became very happy.  This is the language effect! I smiled!

My daughter had come by the time and she rendered her expertise to them. Their drawings and paintings sudden got a new life. They screamed with happiness and joy. Some other inmates came out to see the matter. Participants were showing their work of art very happily. Now, I found there was sign of repent on the faces of some inmates. They assured me, “Next time!” I nodded my head- “Yes, next time!”

Lock up time was started. Jail personnel were insisting them to go inside. But, no one wanted to go back. Finally, all, except participants were sent inside. They were locked with huge lock. Suddenly, I got heaviness in my chest. I felt, this huge lock has been put on my chest and congestion was thickening. I turned my face from the locked barrack and tried to involved with my workshop. Participants were chatting and working. They were seeing each other’s work of art and passing their comments. They were murmuring like birds. Finally, Lady Constable instructed me to wind up the program. I obeyed. Participants promised me to be present in my all upcoming workshops also.

I came down. On the way, Lady Constable told me, “Don’t come on Sunday. We have also our families.” I nodded my head- “No program on Sundays and holidays.” And came out with a satisfaction and thought that if your intention is good and right, no one will stop you.  (Contd...)

A full face smile!

I was very happy. One of my dreams was becoming true- working with a great numbers of jail inmates with a large perspective. It was not a first occasion, where I was organising any program for any jail. After getting a moral boost up from Kiran Bedi, I had started interaction with jail authorities and after completing all required formalities, I had started conducting programs for jail inmates. Before Thane Central Jail, I had conducted couple of programs with women inmates of Byculla jail.

My very first program for the women inmates of Byculla jail was a real experience for me. After completing all relevant procedure by jail authority, I had been given a program for the last week of March, 2003. I had decided earlier that my field of working would be Art, Theatre, Literature, Culture and Education. These are my strength. I wanted to boost up their morale through indirect method of interaction. It was quite difficult to convince jail authorities that what actually I wanted to do? Mental relief? Moral boosting??  Dealing with their inhibitions and capacity through art and theatre???

It was a real difficult phase for me. Initially, I had started feeling that I am unable to explain my theme, my way of interaction, as my dealing with the participants is based on experience, which can be felt, but can’t be expressed in words. It’s something like narrating the quality of food without tasting it.  I was determined with one line- “You please give me a chance Sir. Your inmates will speak later on.”

Finally, I was given an opportunity with lots of unwritten instructions, apart from written. I accepted everything. I remember, it was perhaps last week of March, 2003. I wanted to open my program near about 8^th March, to denominate International Women’s Day. But no problem! Whatever the date, I was happy.

I was excited. But, at the same time, I was a little apprehensive. What kind of these women would be? Will they listen and act accordingly? It was my first visit, inside the jail. I would be with the inmates. So, I was a little nervous and a little scared also. I wanted some company. (Ha ha ha! You won’t believe, but for my moral support) I asked some of my women friends, as jail authority had clearly told me not to bring any male companion for the program. My friends showed high enthusiasm and at eleventh hour, refused. There were many reasons- Husband, Children and prior appointments. I once again remembered Tagore’s line- “Ekla Cholo Re!”

It was a 2 day Art & Theatre Workshop, I had organized. I was sure about theatre part, as it’s my field. But, Art? I cannot draw a straight line properly even! I asked my daughter. She was doing her BFA from JJ School of Art, Mumbai. She really rescued me. As usual!

I had bought note pads and pens for inmates. I had an idea like my other corporate programs, where everything is highly systematic. I wanted same perfection here also. How fool I was!

The Day, after performing all formalities, I was taken inside by women jail personnel. It was a small ground + first floor building- very old, gloomy with filthy smell. Ground floor was dark and dingy. First floor was a little better. I was taken to a so called hall, which length and breadth was almost like a small room of any house. It was basically kept for Balvadi, where children of women inmates used to play and learn. A sewing machine was also there and capturing much space. I was aghast! In such a small place, how will I conduct my theatre workshop!

Inmates were not interested to come. I was inside the hall. Jail personnel were literally requesting them to participate. Finally, some young women arrived. I started interacting with them through theatrical exercises. After some exercises, they were told to write their names and some other lessons.

“How will we write?”

“Will give you pen and pad.” I opened my bags and started distributing pen and pads……And …..!

Barrack and door of the hall were open. Moment other inmates saw the distribution, they entered in the hall like a storm. Initially, I took everyone inside. I was happy that may be the pen and pads are their motivation to join the workshop. But soon, I came on the harsh reality. After exhausting pen and pads, I was just gheraod by remaining inmates. They all were insisting for pen and pads. Two women from South Africa were furious and in attacking mood. I was promising them subject to allow me to go out and buy for them. But, they were in their mind that if I will go out, I won’t be back and thus they won’t get stationary.

I was in real crisis. I was scared that they will hit me. My inner voice was teasing me, “Enjoy your social activity and efforts to create a bubble within them my Darling!... Better you save yourself first.”

Security was not there. But seeing my condition may be some of the inmates informed security. Lady Constable rushed. They literally pulled and slapped them. But in spite of it, they were not ready to leave me without taking their share for their so called participation in the workshop. I was promising again and again.

Lady Constable fired me- “Who had told you to distribute? Don’t know that this is jail? Here everybody wants everything, whether they need or not. Now, you go home.”

“But, I had promised them. And second thing, I will have to come tomorrow also as my program is for two days. No problem to buy some more sets of stationary. I will go and bring for them.”

They saw me like a fool. Showing emotions and that also for those jail inmates, whom I have not seen before. But, in my opinion, promise is promise. I went to the market, bought sets of stationary and distributed. To my surprise, they just took and went back to their place. I was just alone in the hall.

Finally, some women turned and I started taking workshop. Now, I had changed my design and made it totally interactive. They also started taking interest. Around 4 O’clock, I was told to wind up. Participants were happy. They promised me that though tomorrow would be Sunday, but they would be there. Their promise made me happy and a big smile came on my face.