Can you think of anyone who would say the pandemic has been awesome? A CG Block terrace recently hosted about 10 dancers who swore that the lockdown was the best thing to happen to them in years.
“I’ve been serving sentence for 10 years and though we do get parole, it’s never for this long. When the pandemic struck, the authorities let us go home for an entire year,” beamed Sekhar Das.
Sekhar, now on parole, is otherwise an inmate of Dum Dum Correctional Home. But he is also an adept raibeshe dancer, trained by their instructor Chirantan Bhaduri, a resident of CG Block. They have been performing at public shows since 2012 but like most other avenues, were on a break during the pandemic till the Rotary District 3291 invited them for the District Governor changeover ceremony at Nicco Park. On their first rehearsal after the pandemic, The Telegraph Salt Lake caught up with the dancers on Bhaduri’s terrace.
“As per a Supreme Court order, those out on parole during the pandemic cannot be sent back to prison, even for a dance rehearsal. My neighbours know about my initiative to teach these inmates and these dancers have performed at CG Block before, so I decided to host the practice sessions on my terrace itself,” said Bhaduri.
Bhashan steps to martial dance
The dance routine is rigorous. The men have to cartwheel and somersault, climb one another’s shoulders, balance on two sticks held up in the air and leap from them in unison.
“We’re sure to get body ache tomorrow,” laughed Ashadul Sk. “We’ve done this for years so muscle memory is on our side. But we are out of shape.”
Dharmendra Prasad was at ease at the rehearsal but admitted that his only prior experience in the field was bhashan dance! “When the opportunity came for raibeshe I volunteered as prison is boring. We wake up, get counted, eat and perform the monotonous duties we are assigned,” said the man whose job it is to manage the telephone counter in prison. “Dance is something to look forward to.”
Sekhar too took up dancing as they are starved on entertainment behind bars. “I enjoy it now. My eight-year-old daughter loves my dance videos and wants to come watch me perform some time,” says the man who runs a furniture business now while on parole.
The stage show in Nicco Park
Brinda SarkarWait for second chance
The thought of being around people convicted for murder and dacoity can be intimidating but the men were nothing but chivalrous. They offered others tea before sipping it themselves, pulled one another’s leg at rehearsal (and got scolded for it too!) Despite whatever crimes they may have committed, they had feelings.
“At first, people are scared of us,” said Ashadul. “Then after watching us perform, they approach us sheepishly, talking, shaking hands and even hugging us sometimes.”
Bhola Bairagi, who at 23 is the youngest dancer, is serving sentence in a murder case. He has been behind bars for five years and was in fact, quite the dancer before his life took this unfortunate turn. “I would learn pop and hip hop dance,” he smiled smugly. “I may have even become a professional dancer but I'll be in prison till 2025, wasting the prime years of my life,” he said sadly.
His dreams, he said, got shattered when he got convicted. “But I had to be mentally strong to prevent a breakdown. I wasn’t allowed to go home during the pandemic so today is the first time I’m seeing the free world in two years. It has changed; I couldn’t recognise any roads,” sighed Bhola. “In fact, I was looking at the open skies and wondering when I would be a free bird again.”
Tuhin Roy not just dances but also sings and performs plays to keep his mind engaged. “I used to be a government employee in the health department and in prison I’m in charge of the health of the inmates. I provide medicines, first aid, saline, stitches etc,” says the man who claims he got implicated in his wife’s death. “One needs tremendous resolve to stay sane in our environment. We dancers also end up forming close bonds as we have to depend on one another. One loose grip and our partners could be seriously injured.”
There was also Shyamal Maitra —not a dancer but — a drummer for the show. “I used to be at the correctional home but have been released. I was a musician to begin with and am back to doing shows and running a catering business now,” said the man who claims he was implicated in a political case. “I used to play for this troupe when I was behind bars but I am always happy to play for them again.”
Words of encouragement
Bhaduri says the general public wants to help the inmates reform and find vocations. “But of course, the first question organisers ask us is about security,” he smiles.
The dancers were accompanied by many a police personnel during their rehearsal, “and it’s the same during shows. We have to follow a protocol and assign a requisite number of security officers per inmate,” said an officer. “But we support the initiative and realise that it keeps their mind fresh.”
“A downside of the pandemic has been that the men are missing practice but since they are home they are enjoying with their families, eating fresh food and are under the open skies. Their minds are fresh. And most importantly, they are all working. No one is sitting idle at home,” says Bhaduri, a student of Manjusri Chaki Sircar. “When I called them for this show, they could have refused but they all showed up.”
