Inside the four walls of prison

Images flashing on TV screens showing Indian death-row prisoner Kulbhushan Jadhav meeting his wife and mother, from behind a glass barrier at the Pakistan foreign ministry headquarters, has sent shock waves throughout India. When Islamabad described it a “humanitarian gesture”, they could have further extended their “magnanimity” on the day coinciding with the birth anniversary of Mohammad Ali Jinnah by allowing the family to meet in a normal setting. Since the meeting had taken place at the headquarters of the highly secured Pakistan foreign office, there was no need to put up a prison-like setting.

The media spectacle around the meeting — unleashed with the sole intent of extracting some advantage at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) that will soon begin hearing on the Indian petition — didn’t match Pakistan foreign office spokesperson’s claims that the visit was allowed keeping in line with Islamic practices and teachings of treating prisoners with human dignity and compassion.

The images of Kulbhushan may have shocked the world, but this is the way prisoners are allowed to meet their relatives in most third world countries. Except for consular access and legal meetings with lawyers, prisoners are barred from having any physical or face-to-face contact with relatives. The system of mulaqat is a horrendous indictment of the prison system as far as human dignity is concerned. In Dehi’s Tihar Jail, touted as a model prison, there is a small hall-type room specifically meant for mulaqat. This room has built-up enclosures, with brick walls raised up to three feet and the rest of the space covered by grills and meshes. The inmates and their visitors have to converse in a standing position. The room does not have ventilation sufficient enough for almost 200 people present in every mulaqat session. At one time, authorities permit 60 prisoners to see their near-and-dear ones for half-an-hour. On the other side of the meshed grills, on an average, two to three persons visit one prisoner. They are almost two feet apart with a thick mesh of double grills and wires separating them. It is almost impossible to see the face clearly through these meshes that are almost two feet away from each other. For talking, vocal cords must have enough power to carry the message to the other side. Off late in some jails of Tihar (Tihar is cluster of nine jails), authorities have put a similar system, as Kulbhushan was seen talking to his family — telecom and solid glass walls, where one can at least see the faces. But the mulaqat system (meeting relatives) needs a total revamp. Prisoners and their relatives are subjected to the worst kind of trauma during mulaqat. They are fleeced to the hilt by jail officials. There are some jails in the country where relatives are allowed to meet their near-and-dear ones face-to-face in a more comfortable and humane environment. But, Tihar has continued the horrendous British practice where inmates and their relatives are also treated like criminals and have to meet their kin in a dingy room separated by double thick mesh and bars.

Imagine 200 people in a small room, separated by a double mesh of bars and thick wires, shouting at each other. The noise from a few powerful exhaust fans adds more decibels. Only a dim face is visible across this mesh. There are emotional scenes. Some people simply can’t control their emotions, they weep inconsolably; and there is nobody to console them. Glacial guards keep on yelling “time is up, time is up” even physically dragging and beating some in the presence of their relatives.

The mulaqat system is an important aspect of the prison-reform system. It helps a criminal to transform into a civilised citizen and prepare the person to deal with the world once out of prison. The mulaqat room is also one of the most lucrative spots in the jail. It is where promised payments to jail officials are made. The jail officials posted there  mint money instantly from the  relatives of the prisoners. An interesting incident occurred with one of my fellow inmate Kashmiri Pandit Amit (name changed). One day an assistant superintendent posted at the mulaqat room met Amit. The assistant superintendent used to take Rs 100 from Amit’s brother every time he came to see him. “Amit, tumhare bhai se baar baar sau rupaye lena achchha nahin lagata hai,” (Amit, it does look good that your brother gives Rs 100 every time he comes to see you) the warder told Amit. Amit was surprised; he thought perhaps the assistant superintendent, who was notoriously corrupt, might have learnt the error of his ways and had forsworn taking money anymore. “Us se kaho aek sath paanch sau rupaye de diya kare taki baar baar nahin dena padey,” (Ask him to give me Rs 500 at one go so that he need not to pay time and again) the assistant superintendent told him without any expression.

There is an urgent need to attend to this aspect of prison to make them reform houses rather mere punishment centres. Otherwise, a criminal after completing his sentence will return to his trade and put society at greater inconvenience. It must also be borne in mind that life and liberty are not the gift of society, state or the Constitution but inalienable rights of every individual. The flame of liberty will glow so long as there are persons who have guts, grit and vision to expose and disprove those nibbling away liberty in the name of expedients.