Art Connect to Higher Self

Prisons geographically lie within cities limits. Bounded on all sides by walls that create a fearsome psychological divide, they slice the populace into two worlds of polar opposites that co-exist on either side of the wall with completely contrasting lives. These are worlds of the hideous and the sublime that are both public and private and the core of their existence is defined by freedom or the lack of it. Lives across the walls are infinitely, dissimilar and terrifying on the other side in their seclusion.

Like Dante’s ninth circle of Hell, Tihar jail was once a place of depravity, brutality and corruption. The biggest and meanest prison in Asia sprawling across 400 acres in the heart of west Delhi, it used to inspire wild-eyed fear because of the killers, drug addicts and swindlers who ran private fiefdoms inside with the collusion of venal wardens.

Stroll through the grounds now and you could well be at a county garden fête. Immaculate lawns, flower beds arrayed with seasonal blossoms, palm trees swaying in the breeze, tidy hedgerows… these are the first things you encounter as the gates are padlocked with a deafening metallic crunch behind you. The paths are clean, devoid of the filth that you see on most of Delhi’s roads. Once inside and out of sight of the perimeter walls and watchtowers, there is nothing to tell you that this is a high-security prison number 5.

Apart from birdsong, and the hustle bustle of the inmates going about their daily routine nothing disturbs the silence in the courtyard of the jail. The under trials are dressed in coloured clothes, the convicts wear white. There is an air of calm. Prisoners sit cross-legged on the ground in a huddle in disciplined silence doing breathing exercises. Others stroll in the surrounding gardens inside the barracks purposefully, going about their assigned duties without any giveaway signs of brutality or incarceration. If there is a gruesome underbelly of corruption, exploitation, torture and abuse within these walls, there is no indication of it on the faces of these male inmates all aged between 18 and 21 years.

The jail’s holistic approach keeps them busy, gives them new skills, keeps them fit and connected to the outside world. It provides education and training in computers, weaving, baking, painting, carpentry and sewing. Potato chips and snacks made by convicts are marketed outside as TJ (Tihar Jail) Specials. So are carrier bags and envelopes made with handmade paper. Paintings are exhibited and sold. The jail also has its own website, created by prisoners.

If all this sounds unusual, the reason is that Tihar Jail is indeed different from many other jails. Only 20 per cent of its inmates are convicts. The rest are under trials — suspects waiting to be charged, waiting for bail or waiting for their trials.

From a medieval hellhole to a model prison: that is the transformation which has compelled prison reformers from all over the world to come and study how Tihar has been turned around.

Enter Anubhav Nath, a spirited and dedicated, brilliant young man with a difference. A man who broke into the confines of the jail with a mission that was fired by his zeal. He intended to offer a real glimpse of prisons to mainstream society. To return to society a minuscule portion of what had been given to him by the privilege of his birth he began working with the inmates of jail no 5 to focus upon male inmates aged between 18 and 21 years. In a novel way he set about to reform and rehabilitate the inmates through the medium of art.

To him prisons mirror society and the inmates are an ideological institutionalized apparatus, just like any other: school, church or hospital. Incarceration for anyone is sheer anguish and he recognized the need to help inmates to overcome stress and control their inherent pain and grief. He believed that art could help them to vent their emotions, positively, on canvas. It was his way of affording them mental clarity and a means to express themselves. With a new creative focus he felt, they could see their own actions in a sharper light that would to calm them down and catalyze the process of their inner healing. The role of art to reclaim this class of citizens from crime soon became evident.

With his consistent effort through the Ramchander Nath Foundation, Anubhav initiated a weekly painting class to provide training in art within the prison premises. As the group progressed he held work shops headed by leading contemporary artists at the jail premises to interact with inmates and to explore different art-related career opportunities and thereby utilise art as a medium of therapy.  It was evident that these art and artist interactive workshops had changed the atmosphere in the jail— inmates appeared calmer and more co-operative and their equation with the staff more harmonious.

The Indian art world was about to receive an unusual batch of aspiring painters, from an equally unusual place. These artists, young inmates lodged in Asia’s largest prison Tihar Jail were going to come into the public eye, but this time for a different reason. The program had been chalked out the on a large scale. All prisoners in the age group of 18 to 21 years were to learn painting, and once they were trained, their works would be displayed at various art exhibitions. The step was being taken to inculcate creativity in them so that they did not take to crime a second time. The motive was to make art a long-term asset for them.

Encouraged by the positive results of their art therapy, the Ramchander Nath Foundation decided to organise an all jail painting competition for the inmates last year. Beyond their expectations, they got an overwhelming response. A panel of judges that comprised of eminent artists like Jagannath Panda, Josh P.S. and Ram Rahman selected the best works and the proceeds generated from the sale were allocated to individual artist inmates to aid them in their vocational training and rehabilitation. This was to become an annual feature.

For the long term Anubhav’s aim is to help inmates explore different career opportunities related to the arts. For him the unanswered questions that remain are…
Who is a criminal? Isn’t mainstream society harboring more criminals? What makes the inmate-citizen different from the free-citizen? Is the crime factor inscribed on the former justified? Aren’t many living in free-society actually in self-inscribed prisons?

These, each one of us needs to ponder upon, but for the moment it is Anubhav’s efforts that deserve applause. His conviction is that no one is born a criminal and crime is only circumstantial. That everyone deserves a second chance, therefore artists who are the epitome of out-of-the-box thinkers should come forward and help to reform and rehabilitate these victims of circumstance and that no one has the right to be judgmental on anyone else’s character.

Hardly anyone can dispute that.

Tags: art, higher self, Ramchander Nath Foundation, tihar jail