Lakshmi Datt has the same words for all prisoners. He never defaults on his practised lines. It is no big deal. You will be released and you will get bail, he tells the undertrials who come to Jail No. 3 in Tihar,where he is the head warder. He is clearits for the courts to decide whether they are guilty. His role,he says,is that of a custodian of these men once they are herded into their barracks or cells. He usually doesnt get into the details of their cases. There are alleged rapists,murderers,even those who have been accused of committing half murders,but what does he care? To Datt,in this prison space that they share,everyones family. He only has kind words for them. Often he is faced with wailing men claiming they didnt commit the crime they have been booked for and then he has a plan of action ready. He buys them chai,gets them to sit with him and tries to make the prison seem less gloomy by referring to its temporariness. At times,the men languishing in jail would reject their food. They come to him despondent,mourning their loss of years,their chance at freedom and he asks them to be patient. He did that even when the corporate bigwigs indicted in the 2G scam were brought to jail. He had escorted them to the gates as they were leaving for the courts in the morning and told them,Chote bade sab log aate hain idhar. You will be out soon. He had read in the papers about the men. They drove fancy cars,lived in palatial houses. In the prison,they slept on the floor,and were bound by the rules. Everyone is equal here. Some of them who come here are nice,a few are bad. I dont judge, he says. Datt has been at Tihar for close to three decades now. Early every morning,he cycles to work. He is the one who lets the prisoners out for roll call. With the heavy keys dangling by his side,he approaches the barracks at around 5:30 a.m. He counts the men diligently,lets them out and watches over them as they sip their tea and nibble on their bread. He knows all the stories here,like that of Purane baba,80-year-old Bani Singh who has been booked in a dowry case. The toothless man grins every time he bumps into Lakshmi Datt. Around 1.30 p.m.,Datt sits in his seat overlooking the courtyard that has barracks on all sides. The chaiwallah makes endless roundsthis tea isnt free,the prisoners buy it with their coupons, says Datt. Inside the barracks,men sprawled on the hard floor sit drinking tea. From where he sits,Datt keeps a close watch,not just for security but for tears too. We are all humans. We all make mistakes, he says. He is currently posted in Jail No. 3,which has 12 wards. He is in charge of Ward No. 10 and alternates between supervising the ward and doing rounds (chakkar) of all wards. On days that he is on evening duty,Datt volunteers to write letters for those who wish to let their families know they are in jail. These arent detailed notes but impersonal lines stating the details of the ward and the prison and the days of mulakati. He writes in quick strokes,diligently putting Shri before the name of the person the letter is addressed to. He has done it for many years. Now the volume has decreased,he says. On any given day,Datt writes four or five such notes. Sonal,a 23-year-old who has been charged with half murder,and Karam Vir,who has been booked for allegedly raping his girlfriend,help him write letters for prisoners. The men,who are educated,also help with other tasks. The 49-year-old first joined the CRPF in 1986. It was a dire situation. His father passed away when he was 16. Born and raised in a village near Nainital in Uttarakhand,he says he always wanted to be a doctor. But he had to drop out of school and a few years later,joined the CRPF because,he says,he needed to help out his family. He now lives in the Tihar complex with his wife Vidya and two children. Datt is a simple man,and readily breaks into laughter. For years,he has done the same job,peering inside the cells to make sure everything is fine,stepping inside barracks to count the prisoners. These past few weeks,Datt has been lucky. He has been assigned eight-hour shifts and doesnt have to return in the evenings. Once in a fortnight,he gets a day off. He doesnt mind the work,even if he sometimes feels shackled within the high walls of the prison. Through the prisoners and their stories,he hears about the world beyond the complex. The residents come and go. The barracks are always full,bursting at their seams. Until 1994,the courtyard would be full of smoke. Back then,they allowed smoking inside the premises and canteens sold cigarettes. Not anymore and now,it is much better,Datt says. Over the years,the prison has undergone many changes,some cosmetic,others policy-related. Facilities have increased,food is better now with one more vegetable on the menu. The prison is a better place than what it used to be. But who am I to judge? I am here to do my job and I do it with honesty, he says,as he walks out. His children would be waiting for him.
