It was a mad circus out there-peanut vendors, vada, samosa biryani, cooldrink and ice cream sellers. They were all there in full strength. The most annoying were the water sellers. Evil looking plastic pouches – 50 p for normal water and 1 Rs for ice water! Crowds were thronging, giggling, joking – how I wish I could have been alone out there to feel what it really was like to beheld captive in such a place.
But let me start at the beginning. Chennai Central Jail used to be sprawling campus virtually in the heart of the city.Yes it had all the frills – massive, imposing walls, barbed wire fences and the works. About 2 years ago the government shifted the prison to the outskirts. This old premises has not been in use since then. However now they are going to demolish and some other government monstrosity will take shape there. Before demolition, the government decided to open the jail for public viewing.
I was dragged there by a friend – very unwilling – because I was sure even before I went that for me it will not be just a place to go and see. I knew that I would go deeper than that. I did not think I had the emotional maturity to see such a place. However I did go.
The festive atmosphere came as a shock. For me this is a somber place from where we need to learn not to make mistakes.Not a place to make crude, lewd jokes! I cannot even begin to describe the crowd. People were all over laughing, joking, munching, standing and taking pictures, spreading mats and having mini picnics, men peeing in every corner.Oh lord. It was terrible.
The prison itself was another story. It stood aloof and dignified from the hoards of primates that had come to defile it. Silently witnessing as it always had – the many atrocities of humanity. We went from one stately building to another. First was the VIP cell. A two room cell with false roofing, air conditioning and a large attached bathroom.
Then came the common prisoners cells – each around 6ft by 6ft. There’s a slightly elevated cement slab that serves as a bed and in a corner is a toilet. There were at least 100 such cells – on two levels.
We passed the kitchen and the laundry,vast, gloomy spaces – which might have once reluctantly served some of the hardest criminals in the country. The once white, soot covered walls of the kitchen had many tales to tell. Hanging from the top were party poopers!Remnants of some long ago celebration. Of what? Was it the release of an innocent man? Or was it the death of a bully?
Next came the dormitory cells. Long rooms with cement blocks that served as beds. The empty cell looked crowded – as every one step there was a cement block. Life in a full cell - I dare not even imagine.
The worst for me were, were the cells for hardcore criminals. These were far away into the depths of the prison. They were dingy and secluded 4 ft by 4 ft cells– this included the cement slab for bed and a toilet. How can a human being stay locked up alone in such a space? Day after day after day. Staring into nothingness. What kind of heinous crimes would he have committed to deserve such a punishment?
We moved quickly on from there to the de-addiction wing. A cold, white-tiled structure that I felt could not have offered any reassurance to those who came seeking solace. Its white tiles were stained with tales of struggles. Long ago vomit, blood, bile...
My friend wanted to see the visitors’ arena. The arena had an ocean of humanity amusing itself by play acting someone’s misfortunes. How much emotion would this place have endured? The crowd put even my friend off. I don’t think I would have survived it!
Did I tell mention there were old prison records thrown carelessly around? We found a 1920 register. People were callously stepping on tales of murderers, robbers, innocent victims strewn all around. It was sad.
Our last stop was at the hanging point. The place where – criminals subjected to death sentence were ‘hanged until dead’. Yes, certainly not the place for someone with my kind of sensitivity! It comprised a horizontal wooden platform that opened out once the man was hung. It’s state of disrepair was a solace forme!
Finally, we pushed our way past thronging crowds that the police were struggling to control. Waves of people trying to get in colliding with waves of people trying to get out. And no one was getting anywhere! I thought I was going to collapse out of claustrophobia. Somehow we wriggled our way out.
Dear God. It's good to be free!
