A fun filled day at Tihar
This morning I left home with the thought of reaching Tihar jail as soon as I could. I was very enthusiastic to spend an entire day and observe a day in the lives of women inmates and their children.
To start with, I was stuck in heavy traffic which spoilt my enthusiasm to reach the jail quickly. Long and boring traffic jams are the worst thing to have happened to me in Delhi this time. Anyway, let me not get started on that. I will go on rambling about it!!
I went to the office of India Vision Foundation first, an organisation started by Dr. Kiran Bedi. The office looked quite sober with a team of people, some on phone, some on their computers. I met Mrs Monica Dhawan, the project manager who was supposed to take me to tihar. A very compassionate and caring woman, she was very helpful to me throughout. On way to Tihar, she gave me an overview of the Day care centre project inside the jail. She told me that children upto the age of five are allowed to live with their mothers who are inmates. They are kept in a creche’ in tihar where they are given an atmosphere absolutely different from the prisons. I was quite amazed to hear all this and it was time to actually notice all this in reality.
We entered the jail through a gate which was huge, maybe not as huge as the gates of Buckingham Palace but these looked rough and scary. As the car kept moving towards its destination, my eyes were on the really tall boundary walls and a police control point at the top of every building. There were directions for different central jail numbers. I saw no less than 8-9 jail numbers. No wonder there are more than 10,000 inmates living in Tihar.
The car stopped in front of the Woman Inmates Cell. I was asked to leave all my belongings inside the car. The only things I carried with me was a pen, a writing pad and my ID card. The Woman Inmates cell was fully covered with huge iron doors. Nobody could see from outside what was inside those gates. The project manager knocked at the door. I could almost hear the opening of the lock from inside. A police official allowed us to enter the gates and then locked it after we stepped in. Upon entering, we underwent a normal security check procedure. I didn’t know that carrying money inside the jail is not allowed at all because they fear that it might be given to the inmates who may then use it for wrong means.
Mrs. Dhawan and I walked towards the day care centres. I couldn’t help noticing the lush green gardens inside. I could see many women, who supposedly were inmates, walking around in the garden. Mrs. Dhawan told me that many of them were under trial. She then took me to a room where a lot of women were busy weaving. This was the part of the rehabilitation training which is being given to women inside the prisons. Known as “Women Behind Bars”, this scheme aims to bring back the confidence and self pride within women who are imprisoned. I stood there for a long time just admiring the work done by them. They all had a smile on their face and some of them even wished me saying “Namaste Didi”.
After spending a few minutes in this room, I was escorted into the day care centre. If any of you have visited pre schools like Jingle Bells or Shemrock pride, you can imagine what exactly I am talking about. A step into this building made me feel like living my childhood again. The room was beautifully decorated with posters of cartoon characters on the wall, stuff toys kept all around in the room at different places. There were benches and a white board where Maths, Hindi and English classes are held for children.
Children were all dressed in uniforms, a white and pink check shirt and white shorts for boys or pink shorts for girls. They were absolutely delighted to see us, especially Mrs. Dhawan who seemed to be very pally with the kids. She knew everyone by name and knew about them individually. I took a step to introduce myself to each of them. I shook hands as I asked their names. For them I became “Priya Didi”.
I spent four hours mingling with these children, painting, drawing, playing, listening to their poems and stories and also teaching them. I noticed how small little things made them happy. Just by the mention of the word “films”, I could see a smile on so many faces. One of them immediately said “Hum aapke liye gaana ga ke sunaaye” (Should we sing a song for you?). And it took one nod from me to get them started. They sang, they danced, and they pulled me to join them too.
I felt them to be very well mannered children who would say “thank you” if offered something, “sorry” if they step on you and address you with respect. Was I in a jail? I don’t know how many times I asked myself this. I was amazed at the discipline. Their supervisor, an inmate from Zambia is under trial right now. She is referred to as “Stella Mumma” by the kids and spends almost the whole day with them till 4, after which these children go back to their mothers and are locked inside the cells. Stella mentioned that while some children were more intelligent than others in grasping certain things, others were good at art. There is a lot of emphasis on art in their curriculum.
I asked many children if they knew why they were kept there. One of them said “hum yahan chutti pe aaye hai” (We are here on holidays). Another one mentioned “Mummy ne galat kaam kiya tha isiliye God ne punish kiya”(Mom did something wrong, that’s why God punished her). But I was absolutely shocked to hear about one kid who says “Mere mummy aur chacha ne milkar papa ko chakku bhonka” (My mom along with my uncle killed my father). She wasn’t more than four years old and to hear such things from a four year old kid is very shocking. I am trying to imagine what will she grow up to be. Will this thought ever leave her? Will she be at peace?
A mix of happiness and some disappointments, my visit today was quite successful. At about 4:30, Mrs. Dhawan came to take me back. I was playing musical chairs with the kids. I told them that I had to leave and they all gathered around me. Some held on to my kurta, some held my hands while some literally hugged me. Their small little fingers telling me not to go, the innocence in their eyes and the warmth in their hearts, who could not fall in love with them? I promised them to come back again. And also promised to get them chocolates next time around.