Beyond crossed lines... Part-I

"We are all prisoners but some of us are in cells with windows and some without."

- Kahlil Gibran

I thought it would be just another day, with little difference. The company i am working in, wanted to make some difference, atleast on one-day in a year. It mandated that all the employees would do some community service, a social work sort of thing on one day. Managers and Team leaders formed several threads which focussed on many activities such as planting trees, visiting orphanages, old-age homes, distributing clothes to street children etc. My thread was called "Happiness behind the bars", which required us to visit the central prison so that we can mingle with the jail-inmates and ignite some self-confidence in them. The idea was to conduct some activities so that they have fun too. Without even a faint idea about how the experience would be like, i went to Central Prision located at Cherlapally, Hyderabad.

The ticker of thoughts startoff the moment you enter into a prison. and that is true for everyone. I just saw how a prison actually is, and how different it is from what we imagine, thanks to the innumerable movies which project a Pseudo picture of prison.

All the jail-inmates assembled at an open place, which has a dias sort of thing. They were already waiting for us. As i walked ahead, to sit with them, a sudden gush of thoughts struck my mind. those thoughts were loud. quite loud. every face looked at me as i walked past. My gaze was slipping down, for some unknown reason. I dont know why i was feeling guilty to look into their eyes. Perhaps, the guilt was about me being there, which i am sure, must have provoked the still-thoughts of all the people there. It takes lot of courage to look at their face. I couldnt gather it all, the moment it started slipping down. i just needed some time. Probably every face looking at me was jealous about me. and it was me who provoked it, by being there. After few moments, i began looking at the people..just to know who they were and what initial-reactions would my brain synthesize, from the observations.

The look on each face there...it is inexplicable. I didnt really see the faces much. I only looked into their eyes and that was indeed the ice -breaking part of the whole thing. Every look, was no doubt similar to each other, but they had lot in them.probably i was reading too much into them... but my perception of their looks carried lot of baggage. Because there was hidden story behind every face. i just wondered the number of times, they would have recounted the same story, sitting there..with a hope that a day would arrive when they dont have to recount it again and just begin everything afresh.

A prison is one place where a highly educated and well-civilised person and a complete uncouth, both, share a joke, indulge in a conversation and even respect each other. This is a sight which i never got to saw before, not even in the best of temples, which are supposed to be the abodes of God, in front of whom, all are equal. What strange relationship binds two jail inmates? It is not just similar to that of two room-mates in a hostel. Because somewhere deep within oneself, every person, after emarking on a journey of introspection (and retrospection), gets tired talking to oneself and ends up talking out his mind to people around him.

When i went on distributing the refreshment packets to all the people there, some people dispelled every notion of mine, regarding a prison and a criminal, by responding in a very suave - "Thank You very much Sir..". And everytime a gentleman there responded that way, my mind was bombarded with "what might have happened!!". That afternoon, i felt some explosions in my mind...quite many times.

When the cultural events programme started, few prisoners there entertained their fellow friends with some folk and baul songs. When an announcement was made that a certain gentleman would be playing flute, i looked for him, in eager anticipation. Thought it would be another folk tune. To my surprise, that gentleman started playing something which i could very much identify. An Aalaap in Raag 'Keeravani'. the 2-min aalaap later dissolved into an enchanting performance of the song "Zara Zara" from Rehna Hai tere Dil mein ("Vaseegara in Tamil). He played the song, completely, along with interludes and all..to the perfection. The thunderous applause (even from my end), gave me a jolt. Later, the same gentleman played many other telugu songs, and every song was prefixed with a brief aalap of the raaga in which that song was composed. They included Raag "Mohana" ("Bhoopali in Hindustani") , Raag "Suddha Dhanyasi" and Raag "Sivaranjani". Among the songs played to perfection, the most notable was the breathless composition of the late 80s "Maate raani chinnadaani" from film "O paapa Laali" (song "Mannil Intha" from tamil film "Keladi Kanmani").

Obviously curious, i later got to talk to this flautist and mentioned to him the raagas he played. He told me that he got to learn indian classical music for 3 years but due to some unavoidable circumstances, couldnt pursue further since life led him to that place. after having a brief discussion on indian classical music with him, he gave me a small token of gift - a small book having some sacred chants. he was so down to earth and soft-spoken, which really made me more curious about the reason why he was there. i didnt ask him though. But what touched me the most was when he told me - " today's songs are all crap. i dont even listen to them, forget playing. if you ask my favourites, i can say - Only Ilaiyaraaja". i immediately gathered the words "I have a huge collection of ilaiyaraaja's music, i would like to give it to you...". i couldn't utter them.

(to be continued...)