Creating a life in prison

The Tihar Players: A Prison Memoir

by Mahmood Farooqui

Published by Juggernaut

315 pages ₹899

 

In 2015, acclaimed scholar and stage performer Mahmood Farooqui was jailed in Tihar for a crime that he denied committing, and of which he was finally acquitted in circumstances that are still being hotly debated. While in prison, it was faith, books, theatre and writing that restored his will to live. With this deeply personal memoir, he breaks his silence on the darkest chapter of his life. “It was the nadir of my forty-four years of life — emotionally, physically, intellectually and socially,” he recalls. 

 

Born in Gorakhpur in 1971, Mr Farooqui had a modest, middle-class childhood. Though emotional and headstrong as a child, he was hardworking, and was awarded the Government of India Merit Scholarship to study at The Doon School in Dehradun. He describes his initial years there as traumatic, leaving him with deep insecurities and low self-esteem. At the same time, he thrived as a debater, sportsperson, mathematics whiz and a theatre director. After school, he studied history honours at St Stephen’s College. Thereafter, he received the Rhodes Scholarship and went to Oxford. On returning to India, he worked briefly as a television news reporter, and around this time, he met his future wife, Anusha Rizvi. After getting married, he began reviving Dastangoi, the lost art of Urdu storytelling. In 2010, their film, Peepli Live, released and became a cult hit. Mr Farooqui’s book, Besieged: Voices from Delhi, 1857, was also published around this time. 

Though busy, Mr Farooqui admits he was somewhat estranged from his wife, undergoing depression and drowning himself in his addictions. During this time, he met an American researcher often over drinks. In June 2015, Mr Farooqui was unexpectedly arrested on rape charges by the American scholar. Taken into custody, he was sent to Tihar. A contentious and highly publicised case, his arrest became newsworthy, and was prominently reported in the media. Even though his association with films carried a faint glamour in jail, he was subjected to ritual abuse and humiliation. “Hope is reckless inside prison,” he observes. After about a fortnight, Mr Farooqui performed a Dastangoi in prison, which many enjoyed. He also began devouring the collection of books in the jail’s library. 

Mr Farooqui describes in detail various aspects of Asia’s largest and most famous jail — its food, atmosphere, his inmates and their backstories. He notes that while Tihar’s official capacity is 6,000, its current strength is over 14,000. Mr Farooqui writes that there are no peons or sweepers in this efficiently run jail; instead, inmates provide free labour — carting groceries, preparing food, washing, cleaning and guarding. He realised that most murderers were “accidental villains”, who had committed crimes of passion. 

While in prison, Mr Farooqui made some profound observations, which he jotted in his journal, such as the fact that to watch someone else’s degradation is the most repellent yet absorbing sight that the jail has to offer. He adds that while inmates are sent to prison as punishment, often they are subject to further punishment in prison. “Everywhere I turned, I found sorrow, anguish and helplessness,” he explains. 

After being released on interim bail, Mr Farooqui was convicted and sentenced to seven years, and sent back to Tihar in 2016. This time, he decided to start a drama class in jail, and started with some workshops. This was followed by small improvisational skits based on the inmates’ own life stories and experiences. It was quite a challenging task, given that most prisoners were illiterate with no background in theatre. 

After spending 18 crushing months in prison and fighting a court battle for three years, Mr Farooqui writes that the attacks on him continue to this day. Posts on social media brand him a rapist, and many people don’t dare invite him for their events for fear of a small but vocal group. Within a month of his release, Mr Farooqui returned to the jail as an instructor. He continues to keep in touch with prisoners, helping with their cases, putting money in their accounts and counselling them. “People shouldn’t have to pay for a rash, momentary mistake with years of torture,” he believes. 

Mr Farooqui’s son was born in the winter following his release. In the nine years since his release, he has given himself almost entirely to Dastangoi, performing in Singapore, London, and Hong Kong. To date, Mr Farooqui has written 15 modern dastans, directed several and performed over a thousand shows around the world. Needless to say, it was difficult for him to write this brave memoir, which took 10 years to present to the world.

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The reviewer is a New Delhi-based freelance writer