Colours of Heartbreak: The twice-wasted years of Arun Ferreira.
When Arun Ferreira was taken away on May 8, 2007, his son was 2 years old. At a time when parents and kids create arguably a treasure-trove of reminiscences that last a lifetime, Arun found himself in Nagpur Central Jail, an enforced separation that lasted for the next 4 years and 8 months of their lives. That’s how long it took Arun to clear himself off multiple false charges after being interned as a Naxal undertrial. When he finally walked out of prison; physically tortured, his soul bruised, but with his spirit still miraculously intact, his son was close to 7 years and had barely known the man he was supposed to relate to as Dad. It was January 4, 2012.
Here's the thing however.
On September 24, 2011, just three months before Arun actually walked out a free man, the Chandrapur court had finally dismissed the last of the 9 cases against him. Three days hence he was supposed to be let out. At 2 pm on September 27, 2011 when he stepped out of the wicket-door, before he could see his mother, his brother, or his lawyers who were all waiting to reunite with him since the wee hours of the morning, a group of men swooped down upon him, clamped his mouth, pushed down his head and dragged him out of the gate. In a flash, these 6 heavily armed men, shoved him into an unmarked white Tata Sumo and drove all the way to a police station in Gadchiroli district a good three hours away. Throughout this harrowing and patently absurd abduction (which was later conveniently deemed a rearrest), he was denied all contact over the phone, and within five days, lodged in the same Nagpur jail that he had walked out of. Apparently, this was a ‘normal’ drill practiced quite routinely with the less privileged political prisoners who lacked the agency and the resources to fight an irrational state.
Arun did well to vividly put down his experiences in ‘Colours of the Cage’, a prison memoir brought out by Aleph and released on Sep 1, 2014. It’s a vital tale that must be read alongside a long and illustrious series of books such as Koestler’s Darkness at Noon and Solzhenitsyn’s One day in the life of Ivan Denisovich. Insofar as prison stories go, it is no less appalling and no more haunting. All seven chapters are preceded by poignant illustrations Arun made during the term he was in, depicting prison life in graphic detail all the way from police brutality to solitary confinement. How he managed to save these artworks from the eyes of constantly prying officials should have been a story by itself.
When nibbling away cautiously, chapter after chapter of this chilling custodial account, what I could not free myself from was the cloud of awareness (which Arun himself did not possess when he penned his experience) that this man who was acquitted of all charges after his deeply traumatic stint would in a little over six and a half years be picked up on even more spurious charges and made to undergo an even longer sentence yet again as an undertrial. It was impossible to shake off the grim sentiment that a father would yet again be separated from his loving son who he was just getting to know, from his deeply concerned and courageous wife, and from his ageing parents who found themselves parted from him at a very vulnerable age.
Those of us who haven’t walked this path but were privileged to read this profoundly disquieting narrative from the comfort of our beds or couches don’t have the moral license to ‘review’ this book. With little idea of the scale of state-sponsored evil that goes on around us, all we can do through our act of solidarity is humbly educate ourselves and ensure that their stories find empathy and acceptance in wider circles.
You may have noticed by now the obsessive detailing with dates that runs through this piece. It’s merely to underline the fact that even for an activist, human life is a finite affair. Look back at your own life and check how much of it has changed for better or worse in 9 years and 7 months, the combined timeframe this innocent man lost for the crime of making the world a better place. The friends and family members we have lost, the memories we have made, the heartbreaks we have embraced, the struggles we have been through, or the celebrations we have been blessed with. Now imagine having to go through life staring down a windowless wall with precious little light filtering through the cell you are contained in, with the constant strain of having to prove to your captors and the world outside that you are not ‘the dreaded Naxalite’ or ‘the Maoist leader, you have been made out to be.
On 28 July 2023, after 4 years and 11 months, Arun was released from Taloja Central Jail, finally given a reprieve from this second equally gruelling prison sentence. Unlike last time around though, this is still just a bail. The fate of an honourable acquittal still hangs squarely in balance. One can only hope that our system with its insatiable appetite for destroying the best amongst us does not conspire to do him in, again.