What is it that makes us so happy about the Pujas? The pandal-hopping? The eating out? The family and friends we get to meet?
For a dancers’ group that performed at BJ Block on Ashtami, BJ was the only pandal they visited. The snacks offered by the organisers were all they “ate out”. Some of them had invited relatives to come watch them perform, but none showed up.
“Still, this is our best day of the Pujas! It’s the day we got to leave the dungeons for a few hours and walk under the open skies,” sighed Rabin Mollick, one of the 14 Raibeshe dancers for the day. The dancers were inmates of the Dum Dum Correctional Home, or “jail” as laymen call it.
The first creative dance they performed was about birds and one couldn’t help but draw a parallel with how much they themselves wanted to spread their wings and fly free. “These men are very strong and are best suited for the Raibeshe martial dance but I wanted the audience to see them perform this number on birds and realise that they too have a soft, sensitive side,” said dance teacher Chirantan Bhaduri, a resident of CG Block who is also in the administration of Apeejay School in BG Block.
The Raibeshe segment had the men creating multi-layered human pyramids and leaping off the top. Four men latched on to a fifth from all sides and the fifth man spun around. They displayed acrobatics with sticks, enacted the use of bows, spears, swords and all to live music, played by three inmates who used to be professional musicians before being convicted.
Not only had all seats in the audience been taken, but many people also stood and watched. Friends Shivam Sanghvi of CF Block and Chaitanya Sharma of FE Block had no clue the dancers were from a correctional home. “They were so good we thought they were professionals. But this is a great idea. Everyone deserves a second chance in life,” they said, although Raghav Somany of FD Block admitted to feeling unsafe knowing he was among prisoners walking free.
Happy to be heard
Raghav needn’t have worried for the park was surrounded by policemen, some from Bidhannagar east thana and some from the correctional home. “These dancers are peaceful and we know they won’t flee. But if we keep reminding them not to flee, we shall be implanting the idea in their heads,” said an officer of the home, asking not to be named.
The dancers seemed overjoyed just to have some new faces go talk to them. “It feels very nice when audiences come shake hands with us or say they liked our show. They are curious about life behind bars and want to know how difficult it is,” said Palash Debnath.
Sukhlal Hembrom’s eyes searched for his wife in the audience but she didn’t turn up. “My house is near Aquatica and I had requested my wife to come watch the show and meet me today,” he said. “We inmates are allowed to make rare phone calls and my wife comes to meet me just once in six to nine months. She is a domestic help and has responsibilities to shoulder. It would have been nice to meet her during the Pujas but I guess she was busy…” he trails off sadly.
Dharmender Prasad’s home is in Kankurgachhi but he hadn’t informed his family about the show. “Why bother them? They must be enjoying the Pujas,” said Dharmender, who has served 12 years in prison for kidnap and murder. He has been sentenced to life imprisonment, meaning he is to stay behind bars till death but after 14 years a committee would review his case.
“I was barely 20 years old when I did what I did. I was immature and hadn’t even understood my actions…” said Dharmender. “But I’m trying to move on now. I’m focussing my attention on Raibeshe and Kalaripayattu.”
Life behind bars
The correctional home has 3,500-plus inmates, comprising both the convicted and the under-trials but the 15-odd dancers get a room for themselves. The money they earn through shows is deposited in a prisoners’ welfare fund and is used to educate their children, rebuild damaged home, pay medical bills etc.
Most of the inmates have been sentenced to rigorous imprisonment so they have to work. “For instance, if an inmate used to be a cook he would be sent to cook meals for others; if he was a teacher he would be sent to help other inmates appear for exams,” said the officer of the correctional home. “But an empty mind is the devil’s workshop and so we encourage activities like dance to keep them busy.”
Jailed dancers better
Bhaduri has been teaching the students how to dance since 2012 and remembers being concerned about his security for the first few months. “I mean I was walking into the lair of murderers and dacoits! But my fears turned to a sense of achievement when I realised that the students would eagerly wait for my classes,” he said, adding that his students behind bars were much more dedicated than his students outside.
“Regular students have many distractions but these men have nothing to do but dance. So they pour their hearts into it,” said Bhaduri. Many inmates want to be involved with cultural activities as it gives them a better chance at parole (if their conduct is good, they get to visit home for about a week every six months) and a high-protein non-vegetarian diet.
“But dance has been creating a sense of discipline in these men,” said Bhaduri, who is often an Agony Uncle to the dancers. “Interacting with the prisoners over the years, I’ve realised that most are driven to crime out of poverty and illiteracy. It’s common in their society for two neighbours to start a shouting match over something trivial till tempers peak and one hits another with a bamboo stick. And just like that one dies and the other gets jailed.”
Wish from the goddess
Soon after the show the friendly and jovial dancers started looking sullen. “We’re headed back to the dark world,” sighed Rabin, the star dancer who was a footballer before being sentenced to life for murder and dacoity. “Glimpses of today’s grandeur will play in our heads for a week now.”
They got to visit the pandal before leaving and were received warmly by block residents. “These men are so talented and courteous, I wonder how they could have committed crimes,” said Dipali Dutta, a resident who handed over prasad to the inmates. “Maybe it was the heat of the moment.”
Swati Pal, another resident, felt it wasn’t up to them to judge people. “But since they are trying to reform, society should embrace them,” she said.
And what did the men seek from the goddess? Some sought parole, some acquittal, some prosperity for their families but there was one common wish all the dancers had. “Every Sunday we are allowed to watch dance reality shows on TV. We too want to perform there someday,” wished Rabin on behalf of the others.
Brinda Sarkar
A mighty heart wins HB Block conchshell contest
The HB Block puja hosted a conchshell-blowing competition on Navami that saw more than 10 residents take a deep breath and blow their lungs out.
Each participant was given three chances and his/her best timing was recorded. While most ran out of breath after 11 to 14 seconds, it was the middle-aged Anupam Roy who stole the show by clocking 32.14 seconds. He won a huge round of applause.
Roy, who underwent a by-pass surgery in 2000, credits his schooling days at Ramkrishna Mission Vidyapith, Deoghar, for his feat. “In school we had regular practice of conchshell-blowing and I still blow it whenever on special occasions,” he smiled.
Homemaker Swapna Halder came second with 26.45 seconds and Chameli Mazumder took the third position with 16.10 seconds. “I don’t have regular practice at this but maybe my music practice give me an edge over others,” said Halder.
The contest, said puja committee convenor Sankar Deb, had been happening over a decade in the block with a break of two-three years in between. “Since we do not have any cultural programmes on Navami, we schedule such contests in the evening.”
Bharati Kanjilal
