ROOM FOR CREATIVITY
Art and craft initiatives such as carpet weaving and kalamkari give prisoners a break from routines and encourage new skills
could not have asked for a better opportunity.”
Rao, a freelance recording artist, who has worked with Akashwani Bhawan, FM stations and recorded music, had the idea of working with prison inmates of Delhi and set up the Lakshay Foundation in 2011. “We started the first radio station in jail that year itself,” Rao says, adding the response was not what he expected at all. “You see, in prison, there is not much entertainment. The few inmates who had the chance to provide it were treated like gods. They were in charge of playing music through the PA system, taking requests, and performing on special occasions, so there was a lot of interest in the programme,” he says, adding that he admitted only talented inmates.
“Not everyone inside the jail will be able to pick up things like music — careers where a criminal past might not necessarily be a deterrent. And even in my class, it is not possible that all inmates will be able to learn and use their talents outside,” says Rao, adding that he continues to help his students once they are released.
“The moment I was accepted to Rao’s class, I knew this was my place,” Singh says, beaming. “I used to just sing before but I learned to play the guitar and the keyboard at these classes.”
Singh is now looking to rebuild his life — this time with a career in music, “mostly for my family, my wife and daughter, and my mother”. As part of Rao’s group, he was among the first batch of prison inmates to score a show at the India Habitat Centre two years ago. “All I can say is that I got lucky finding the people I did when I did. I can only hope others on the inside have the same luck.”
With inputs from (U.P.), (Bihar), (Mumbai), (Tamil Nadu), (Telangana) and (New Delhi).
At Bikaner Central Jail, inmate Amar has formed a strong bond with three others. “We are sailing the same boat, and the journey becomes easier when you have friends. We drink tea together and exchange our thoughts during tea time,” he says. So, when he joined Jaipur Rugs’ Freedom Manchaha project to learn how to weave and handknot carpets, he created a piece with stripes to depict the ups and downs of his life, and four tea cups, to symbolise his friendship. ‘Hum Chaar’, his wool and silk rug, is available on the luxury carpet brand’s website for ₹1,32,300.
Since the project launched in 2018 — across prisons in Alwar, Jaipur, Bikaner, Dausa, Amer and Bharatpur — Jaipur Rugs’s director Yogesh Chaudhary says he’s seen a growing interest. “Many prisoners say it has brought them peace; that weaving is like meditation. It has also helped them regain some of the hope that they had lost.” Each rug takes between one and three months, and 75% of the sales goes to the prisoners’ families. “Reintegration into society is tough; some commit suicide once they leave jail,” Chaudhary says. “But this profession requires one to stay at home and work, thus
Imaking reintegration easier.”
Rajasthan leading the way?
Jaipur Rugs is not the only ones in the State helping motivate prisoners. Over the years, artists, fashion designers, master craftspeople, and even professors from the National Institute of Design have stepped up. This, along with initiatives such as open prisons (Rajasthan has the highest number, at 40), could be one of the reasons why former chief minister Ashok Gehlot stated back in 2021 that the State’s jail system is better than others in India.
“All nine central jails in the State have factories, where training and employment are being given to approximately n the United States it’s hard to run for high political office without a photogenic family in tow. The only unmarried American president ever was James Buchanan (18571861).
In India it’s never really been an issue. Congress party president Rahul Gandhi is unmarried. Former prime minister Atal Behari Vajpayee was a bachelor with an unusual living arrangement involving a longtime partner and her family. It didn’t faze the electorate. Current Prime Minister Narendra Modi came to power touting his lack of immediate family as an electoral asset. It was a guarantee, he said, that he would never go down the dynastic route and favour his children.
Now that political rival Lalu Prasad Yadav has made a jibe about Modi’s lack of family, the Prime Minister has cleverly turned it on its head just as he had once done with the “chaiwala” sneer. His supporters are rallying around him putting up signs calling themselves “Modi ka parivar”. “140 crore people in the country 2,000 convicts at any given time,” says a spokesperson at the Rajasthan Prison Department. The detainees in Jodhpur and Udaipur, for instance, are proficient in making sheetmetal products; at the Jaipur Central Jail, inmates make pretty quilts, including the Jaipuri razai.
Talent hunt
While not all states provide creative work outlets for its prisoners, the few that do try to ensure broadbased training. In Kerala, at the Central Prison and Correctional Home in Thiruvananthapuram, a large 200metre mural on the perimeter wall is a testament to the skills of its inmates. The prison launched their Classical are my family,” said the Prime Minister.
At one time, I thought that Americans were obsessed about their presidential families because their own families were falling apart around them. Fewer people were getting married, divorce rates were climbing, and conservatives were complaining that the only people who seemed to really want to get married were samesex couples. Saving the family had become a political preoccupation.
America might have a first family but India firmly believes in family first.
The great Ambani prewedding bash was as much about glitzy excess as it was about projecting a wholesome Indian family for the world at large. It doesn’t matter if brothers feud over business empires as long as the family sings and dandiyas together while celebrity stars play second fiddle. They were the extras in this grand family affair. And family values look better when wrapped in Tarun Tahiliani. and Commercial Arts vocational training course three years ago, in association with the State Resource
Centre. “We extend training to 20 persons in a batch at a time,” says D. Sathyaraj, superintendent of the prison. “Rather than run the course over a few months, it is more intense and wraps up in 70 hours — keeping in mind the floating nature of the prison population.”
The focus is on mural and canvas paintings, nettipattam (caparisons on elephants), and wooden decorative items. While Sathyaraj feels that the production is yet to hit mass commercial volumes, the response has been good for the products sold through Free Fashionista, their onsite store. “A share of the sales is set aside for the prisoners,” he says. “Inmates who are interested can sign up. We also identify those that have the talent.”
In Telangana, at Chanchalguda Jail, authorities have started teaching
Meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum, we have a very different super wealthy family. Narayana Murthy and Sudha Murty have much to be proud of, including her recent nomination to the Rajya Sabha, but lately people seem to worship them as the living murtis of the simple family. Every other day, I get a gushing WhatsApp forward showing the Murthys doing simple aam aadmi family things together. People rhapsodise about them going to the market or getting an ice cream as if they are witnessing minor miracles. Simply rich is one thing, but so rich and yet so simple is quite another.
As onlookers with our noses pressed to the glass, we are really drawing the same lesson from both these spectacles. We are reassured that the great Indian family is alive and well even though we know, in the real world, husbands are beating wives, sons are throwing fathers out of their homes, and siblings are at daggers drawn. But on Instagram Reels, their prewedding dance steps are
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Creativity in prisons isn’t always channelled into workshops, though. At Tihar Jail, after organising art and craft classes, Project Second Chance is now concentrating on creating reformation and rehabilitation models to help prisoners. “There aren’t enough innovative models in India. And who better to create them than the ones who have lived through these problems,” says Mohit Raj, the founder of the initiative. These include BetterLife Prison School; Kunji, a helpline for exinmates; and using games like Jenga and Ludo to help teach legalese and conflict resolution in mental health.
But that’s not to say the creative initiatives are in the past. “Soon, in Jail No. 6, we will be starting pottery classes,” he says. Raj recalls one of their bigger creative projects, a painting workshop led by artist Veer Munshi in 2017. Prisoners made 300 paintings, with which they organised an exhibitionandsale at Lalit Kala Akademi. Perhaps pottery will be their next outing at the Akademi. celebration.
— With inputs from and
coordinated. They work 70 hours a week and recount charming ‘jab we met’ stories. They are always perfectly turned out unlike my family in its nighties and sweatpants. If the big fat Indian wedding wasn’t a headache enough, now we have the ‘Indian super family’ as our aspirational nightmare.
To be honest, I like reading about families like the ones in Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals — dysfunctional, squabbling but still loving. Later, I discovered even Durrell took great literary licence but it still felt real as opposed to the Reels out of Jamnagar. It’s not about the Murthys or the Ambanis or any other family. It’s just that family values seem to have become more about the market value of a family.
Now that value can be measured in terms of electoral gold.
After Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated in 1991, Congress coined the electoral slogan ‘Maa bete ka balidaan, yaad karega Hindustan (India will always remember the sacrifices of mother and son)’. But that was also reminding the electorate that this was a very special family, one that ordinary Indians were allowed to revere but never hope to match up to. Instead, they could show their respect, one vote at a time.
That exclusivity yielded rich dividends for the Congress for years. Now Modi has cleverly invited every Indian to become part of his friends and family programme and feel like they belong to something special.
The best thing about this plan is that it’s electorally a winwin proposition. Hum do, hamare do vote basically.
Now that takes family planning to a whole new level. the author of Don’t Let Him Know, likes to let everyone know about his opinions whether asked or not.