How Hope Outlives The Cell: Voices From India’s Political Prisoners
In prison, there is little to hold on to. In Outlook's special issue, titled Voices From Prison, we spoke to India’s political prisoners about what kept them going—what gave them hope on days weighed down by grief and court hearings that went against them. They reflected on moments when the institutional authority of the jail bore heavily upon their existence, and when memories of the past began to corrode and fade. It is a story of longing for a sky beyond imposed limits, and of retrospectively reassessing what might have been. Of familial ties being tested through a web of trials, and of those on the outside holding on to hope for both themselves and the ones behind bars. And lastly, a yearning for the day they would be freed, not merely from the confines of prison, but from the crushing burden of the charges that bind them.
"I am enormously relieved that the separation from my only daughter, Maaysha, has ended. Though we are not always under the same roof—she first did her graduation at Bhilai and is now pursuing her postgraduation in Clinical Psychology in Kolkata—at least we can speak to each other every day or whenever we want, see each other on a video call and for as long as we like." | Illustration: Saahil
"In prison,he read the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita. Discussing philosophy used to be a part of our family conversations. Turning to philosophy helped him in jail. He read many books on nature and even studied Botany to divert his mind" | Illustration: Saahil
The tragic dimension of jail has been exhaustively mined. What remains scandalously underexplored is its comic genius. Prison is a factory of absurdity, running at full capacity every day, and I made it a habit to collect its specimens—especially during the so-called free hours, when the cells were opened each morning. This ritual began with the ceremonial clanking of batons, as guards slid them menacingly across steel bars, producing a sound—less like an alarm than a declaration of sovereignty. | Illustration: Saahil
"My mother was old, burdened with the ailments of age, including dementia. When I was granted interim bail to visit her, I went with a heart heavy with pain. She did not recognise me. I pleaded with her silently, searching for a trace of memory that never came. And yet, in that moment, I realised something unsettling. In extreme circumstances, we may wish that those we love were spared the full weight of reality. Had she recognised me, how would I have explained my incarceration? How would she have borne the knowledge that her son was accused of unspeakable things—of being part of terror networks conjured by the state?" | Illustration: Saahil
Demoralised by the contemporary downturn in journalistic ethics, I decided to leave journalism for goodand to start my own business. Currently, I run a computershop in Dantewada to support my family. | Illustration: Saahil
Appa was extremely active as a poet and writer, and started a magazine—Srujana. He formed a collective of progressive writers called Virasam. This has been a glorious contemporary history of radical literary activities in Telugu. | Illustration: Saahil
"I knew that watches were not allowed in jail. Yet I had clung on to my basic Titan watch which I had to submit at the gate and which was returned to me looking like a museum relic almost six years later." | Illustration: Saahil
Reading the newspaper has always been an old habit of mine. After finishing it, I was walking around in the courtyard when a friend called. His first question was, “Did you read the paper?” I replied casually, “Yes, I did.” He asked again, “Then how do you sound so normal? Didn’t you see anything important?” | Illustration: Saahil
The sky behind bars keeps changing, and you look at it with longing. When I was at last released, the happiness corroded the moment I stepped outside. | Illustration: Saahil
"You will be surprised to know that the Model Prison Manual of 2016 has not even been enacted in Jharkhand prisons. Hence we get Chana-gud for breakfast, Rice, daal and Sabji for lunch and Roti, daal and Sabji for dinner. Apart from this mutton is served only once in a week. Still mutton used to be served once in a month only. It was only after the protest that mutton began being served once a week." | Illustration: Saahil
My first arrest came during a moment of intense unrest. On 9 August 2018, Manipur Police picked me up for Facebook posts made during the Manipur University crisis, when students and teachers were protesting against then Vice-Chancellor A.P. Pandey amid allegations of corruption and misgovernance. The campus had been shut down following a violent police crackdown on protesters. | Illustration: Saahil
Sonam has however remained positive and has been spending time reading books, and has told me to get some for him. I took a book by Sri Aurobindo to him to read in prison, as he was also wrongfully charged for sedition and imprisoned in Alipore jail for a year. Inside the prison, Sonam advises the staff on parenting issues to look at the positive traits in their children rather than focusing on their shortcomings. | Illustration: Saahil
Being a Buddhist Marxist, I know that everything changes every moment; nothing remains the same. So I tell him, “The person who enters jail never comes out; the one who comes out is someone else.” The situation improves somewhat when the number of political prisoners increases. Then it becomes possible to shape the environment a little in one’s own way—to live together, build a sense of community, spend time in the library, observe occasions like the birthdays of Rabindranath or Marx, publish wall magazines, form music groups, and so on. During my time in jail, our numbers were sufficient to do all this. | Illustration: Saahil
Malware on Rona Wilson’s computer that could both extract data and plant files—a digital Trojan horse. | Illustration: Saahil
"We broke jail rules that prohibited us from singing, talking loudly or even laughing. In the physical isolation of the Anda ward, we dared to sing, spoke to each other across yards and laughed and had conversations." | Illustration: Saahil
Life outside prison does not let you come out of the cobwebs of the negative impacts on physical and mental health. In a prison, your identity is reduced to just a number. You are dehumanised at the whims of authorities and burdened by numerous hurdles and difficulties to secure bail. | Illustration: Saahil
I always believed that this distance would not last forever.Because a daughter never stops missing her father and hope never leaves a heart that loves deeply. | Illustration: Saahil
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