CHENNAI: I studied only up to Class 8 and while growing up, I wasn’t privy to the opportunities that were available beyond my taluk in Tirunelveli. I was more exposed to the conflicts – between different communities, caste, and societal hierarchies. I didn’t, at that time, feel that communal-caste violence was out of the ordinary. To me, and many youngsters like me, it felt like the norm. Clashes, fights and panchayat meetings were regular occurrences in our village. By the time I turned 24, without realising, I found myself caught in the deep abyss of one such clash. Two groups set out to ‘teach a lesson’ to each other.
Despite the talks of a compromise headed by the village panchayat leaders, the situation got out of hand and I, along with six other men, ended up taking a life. It happened in a jiffy and it changed my life forever. But, even when I was remanded and interrogated in custody, I was still hopeful that I’d go back to living my regular life soon. In 1998, I was convicted of murder and was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Palayamkottai Central Jail. I vividly remember my heart sinking when I had to hand over the clothes I was wearing and slip into the prison uniform. It was, perhaps, at that moment, after four years, I was washed over with remorse. I knew my life wouldn’t be the same anymore.
However, this realisation and my acceptance of the crime I’d committed helped me during my days in prison. Within a year, I was shuttling between different moods and often found myself in a reflective state. By 1999, I was out on parole and within six months I got married. Sometimes, I look back and think if I deserved it. But, my wife, despite knowing that I will be going back to serve my sentence in prison, chose to marry me. She didn’t pay heed to what our relatives said and stuck with me through the hardship. We were blessed with two children but I was not lucky enough to revel in the joy for long. I had to go back to prison. This time, it was long — I spent 14 years in the confines of the jail before stepping out and taking breaths of freedom in 2018.
Taking the first step
Looking back, I feel blessed to have served the sentence. It was during my time inside that I was presented with the opportunity to meet KR Raja, founder of Global Network for Equality (GNE), an NGO that provides help and rehabilitation to the children of prisoners. When he first met the prisoners as a psychiatric counsellor, I had my reservations. ‘I am mentally stable, why do I need a counsellor?’ I thought to myself. However, meeting Raja ayya changed my life and little did I know that he would go on to aid my children by providing them with scholarships and guidance for their education. When I heard of this news from an officer inside the jail, I shed tears of joy. Today, both my sons are receiving quality education — one that I am not sure I could have provided them. My heart is filled not just with pride but gratitude for the help I received.
Ayya often told us that our children were the invisible victims of our crimes and that we needed to give them a better future. When a parent is convicted, the children are branded as ‘children of criminals’; they face social stigma, pushing them to the wrong path. My children were lucky to receive a better life. Over the years, I was able to understand his ideologies; I found solace in his words. My internal changes were furthered when a guruji visited us and talked to us about good virtues. At that time, I decided to quit smoking and drinking; that made me a healthier person. I even shared my transformation with other inmates to benefit them.
A helping hand
It was this gratitude for life that made me lend my hand to the children of prisoners who are still serving their sentence. After my release, for a few months, I was in a limbo. The world around me had changed and everything was fast. I didn’t know what to do or how to reintegrate into the community. With ayya’s help, I landed a few jobs in Chennai. But, my wife insisted that I stay close to home and suggested I buy an auto-rickshaw. She’s taken care of the family for over a decade and this was the least I could do for her. So, with the help of ayya and a few relatives, I bought an auto. Since I live in a village, I don’t earn a lot. Most are farmers and/or daily-wage labourers here and these rides are a luxury for them. So, what I make is just about enough to supplement my family. ‘Ana kuraivana varumaname niraiva iruku’. I am happy that I can finally support them.
It was this joy that I wanted to share with others. When I approached ayya with the thought of sponsoring other children of convicts, he was elated and told me about two girl children in need of help. Their father is currently in prison for having murdered his spouse. So, I have taken up the responsibility of sponsoring their monthly expenses. This Deepavali, my family and I visited the children and spent time with them and presented them with gifts. To see them smile meant a lot to me. I don’t consider my contribution as a big feat. I am only giving back what I received. If I earn more, I would definitely sponsor more such children. I don’t have any aspirations for myself but I go to bed every day with this thought — of helping other families that might be suffering.
A new life
My day in the prison used to begin at 5 am. I am not sure if it was the wisdom that came with age or the experiences, I always kept myself occupied; there was no time to indulge in unnecessary conversations or petty fights. I used to read a lot of books from the history and spirituality genres and learned a lot about life. The quote: ‘He who opens a school door, closes a prison’, made a lot of sense to me when I started reading and learning. I even appeared for classes 10 and 12 exams and passed! I also used to diligently read the newspaper. Once, there were two news pieces — one about a visually impaired person in Tiruvannamalai, who needed help for his higher education, and one about an ashram for orphaned children in Chennai that was in need of donations. While I didn’t have enough money to help the visually impaired person, I wrote him a letter, wishing him success. This started as a ‘pen relation’ and we used to write to each other.
During my 14 years in jail, I hardly met my family. They couldn’t even write letters to me as they were reeling under financial crisis and struggling to buy even daily essentials. Even while in confinement, I used to have food to eat but for my family outside, it was different. So, to be isolated from the family in such conditions was hard. In such times, receiving these letters made me happy and hopeful. As for the ashram, with whatever little money I made inside the prison by working in the tailoring unit and other small-time work, I was able to save and send them `50 for Deepavali. I continued doing that for a few years and used to receive letters from them as well. It was such small gestures of kindness and humanity that kept me going.
Now, I live about three-km away from my ooru, away from past scars. I wanted to start afresh. But, I noticed that though several aspects of the world have changed, the conflicts continue to dominate our lands. But I do my best to be a catalyst in changing the attitudes of people, especially youngsters. I ask them to look at my life and to reconsider their decisions and to take a different path. Some pay heed and drop their weapons while some don’t. But, I will keep trying. When my children grow up, they should have a better world to live in.
A bright future
Muthu’s eldest son is pursuing a BTech Biotechnology course at a well-known institution in Chennai and his younger son will step into college soon. He dreams of serving the country by joining the army.
(Name changed to protect identity)