The prison of Nirvana

 Vipassana meditation camps in Tihar jail have tangibly transformed lives and minds: from anger to tolerance, violence to ahimsa, hatred to love. Hardnews interviewed five 'hardcore' accused in jail, who seem to have come a long way from condemnation to inner peace
Shaweta Anand 

In a heart-to-heart conversation with five prison inmates - two murder convicts, one rapist and two undertrails - in Tihar's Jail No. 4 in Delhi, what struck me most was that there was not one moment during our intense, three-hour session that I felt uncomfortable in their presence. Despite bearing the tag of 'hardcore criminals', they came across as ordinary, peace-loving people, almost fated by destiny as much as their own actions. What followed, as they shared bananas with this reporter, are intensely complex and tragic accounts of their private histories, their prison-life and their unexpected tryst with 'Vipassana'.

Sanjeev Kumar, 39, an MBA, was a well-to-do professional with a multinational company, before his wife committed suicide, leaving behind two infant children. "I was traumatised at the loss of my wife, losing custody of my children and my career, all in a single twist of fate. I was later charged with abetment to suicide," said Kumar, in fluent English, his eyes unable to hide the emotions within. "I had lost my mental equilibrium and that was the peak of negativity and trauma for me. "But after Buddha's method of Vipassana came into my life in Tihar, I realised that I'm on a path of healing and self-discovery, which has shown to me the highest feelings of positivity too. All this is not a sudden change but comes from a process that continues as we practice more." 

Kumar offers voluntary service at the 10-day Vipassana camps held twice every month within the jail premises at a special centre called Dhamma Tihar. Elaborating on the meaning of  Vipassana, he said, "It's a method of silent introspection within, after practicing which one doesn't need 'a second opinion' on the ups and downs in life from anyone else. One becomes truly self-sufficient. I haven't seen my children for two years but I'm able to deal with that peacefully and hold no grudges against my in-laws for putting me through all this. In fact, I am able to trust them with my own children. I could reach this level only after having gone through Vipassana and I feel lucky to have made it here."

Emphasising the need for such a healing facility inside the jail itself, assistant superintendent and Vipassana practitioner Rajinder Kumar said, "Prison environment has high levels of negativity - anxiety, misery, suffering - feelings surrounding the kind of people who live here for years. So inmates pass on this negativity to jail officials, who pass it back to them. It's a vicious circle of violence. Therefore, the need for Vipassana to arrest violence at the level of thoughts before it turns into action." Kumar suggested Vipassana to Kiran Bedi, former inspector general of prisons, in 1993, as part of prison reforms. Since then, it has become a regular feature. 

Thirty-year-old murder convict Brij Kishore was earlier on death penalty that later got reduced to life sentence. "Being a sadhak (Vipassana practitioner), my meditation practice was strong and regular by the time I got produced in court. So when the judge announced death penalty for me, instead of getting angry, I found myself watching my emotions in a detached way and ended up giving the judge mangal maitri (goodwill and compassion) since I knew Vipassana. Although once, my old thought pattern did strike back and I thought of killing the judge too, since I had already killed one person. But I was able to deal with those negative feelings right there and then," Kishore expressed himself in a candid confession.