CHENNAI: Nalini Sriharan is one of the longest serving women prisoners in the world. Accused of hosting two female suicide bombers, Suba and Dhanu from Sri Lanka, along with her husband Sriharan alias Murugan, another convict in the Rajiv Gandhi assassination case, Nalini has been languishing in Vellore jail for 25 years now.
In a recently released book, Rajiv Kolai: Maraikkapatta Unmaigalum, Priyanka Nalini Santhippum (Rajiv assassination: Suppressed facts and the Priyanka-Nalini meeting), compiled by journalist Ekalaivan, Nalini opens up on what transpired in the meeting between two women — the slain Prime Minister’s daughter and the woman convicted for the murder.
The book also has three chapters dedicated to how Nalini’s husband became his own counsel, a story about which very little is in the public domain, according to Ekalaivan.
The excerpts
We were the only ‘family’ who were accused in this case. The CBI arrested six of us — my mother, younger sister and brother, maternal uncle and my husband. My sister Kalyani and uncle were let off after detention in custody of over 40 days. They were stripped of all belongings.
The rest of us were in the CBI custody for 60 days and shifted to Chengalpet prison. There were advocates visiting the other accused. None came for us. Particularly, none came for those from Sri Lanka. Meanwhile, the CBI was busy spinning yarns about my life. Citing my pregnancy, they created a debate on who the father of my child was. Was it Murugan? Or Sivarasan.
Our hearts crushed. That was the time advocate Duraisamy came to meet us in prison. Around May 19, 1992, four of them from the Saidapet camp were added as accused in the case. Only after that did the court bother to look if we had an advocate. After more than a year.
In January 1993, we were shifted to the special prison in Poonamallee, specially designed for the accused in the Rajiv Gandhi assassination case. Two years had passed by then.
Only then did we receive in writing from the courts that “we can appoint an advocate for us”. Senior advocate Duraisamy agreed to be my counsel.
I spoke to my husband. Disgusted at the proceedings over time, he said, “I don’t mind what happens to me. I am not going to seek a counsel. I am cornered... You keep one, if you want.”
Further, he wrote a letter citing previous incidents of bias from the court and sent it with attachments of proof from the previous two years of trial. That was it. There was an explosion of sorts in our prison. There was pressure to reconsider my husband’s decision. Some suggested that we read up law books.
Cross-examination
An advocate, Chandrasekaran, lent two law books to my husband. He started poring over the books, sometimes over 18 hours a day. Among the 1,000 witnesses in the case, only 280 had deposed. Those statements itself ran over 20,000 pages. It was around the beginning of 1995, I think. First witness was Sriperumbudur Police Inspector Madhuram, the officer who had filed the First Information Report (FIR).
My husband got a chance only after nine advocates finished cross-examining the police inspector. “Accused no 3, Sriharan’s cross-examination,” came the announcement.
My husband got up and prepared. Everyone’s gazed at him. Some wondered if this is allowed, Some chided, “What does he know?” Some of them were hoping for the trial to turn into a comic event.
There was an important thing to be cross-examined with the Inspector. Army’s Major Sabarwal, an explosives expert, had filed a report on the Sriperumbudur blast. Apart from explaining the technicalities of the explosives involved, the major in his report had mentioned that the site where the explosion happened (Sriperumbudur) had a ‘Tigers’ training camp, adding, “This is one of the reasons why I conclude they are behind the bombings.”
It was attached to the chargesheet provided to us. It was a big mistake. It would accentuate our chances of being found guilty. My husband’s cross-examination with Madhuram began.
“How long have you been the Inspector of Sriperumbudur region? What sorts of crimes have you encountered? Any previous instances of explosives cases?
He threw in many such questions and all of a sudden he let the question he wanted to ask, “Have you ever sent a report to your higher-ups about the presence of a terror organisation within your range?
“No,” said the Inspector.
“Any training camp, in the past or present?”
The Inspector again responded in the negative.
“But there were reports that a Tigers training camp functioned in Sriperumbudur?”
The inspector was restless now. “There is nothing of that sort,” he said. “If anyone says so, it is nothing but a rumour. There is no truth to it,” he added.
“Then, is the report false?”
“Yes, if there is a report saying so, then it must be false,” said the police officer.
There was resistance among other prisoners to my husband’s line of questioning. “Had we accepted Major Sabarwal’s report and went into trial, it would increase the odds against us” was my husband’s defense.
The 32nd witness
Cross-examination of the 32nd witness, Sub Inspector Anasuya, was very important for my husband. She was on duty when the explosion happened. When she appeared for trial, she had earned promotion and was a Deputy Superintendent of Police. After a few rounds, an irate Anasuya responded to all the questions with, “Cannot say. Can’t answer.” She repeated it 11 times.
Such an answer is not allowed, according to law. The officer was probably not aware at that time that such answers would have repercussions. The State’s prosecutors understood though. What was shocking was when we read the witness deposition. The places where DSP Anasuya responded with ‘cannot say’ were overwritten with “cannot remember, do not know and forgot”.
Dealing with witnesses
Badrinath, Avadi Manoharan, Prabhakaran — the CBI witnesses in the case deposed before the court that “the CBI kept us at ‘Malligai’ building for so many days and trained us on what to tell before the Judge.”
The State produced another witness, Selvam. Their report claimed that my husband was staying at Selvam’s house and that police had recovered his photo ID from the home, according to Selvam’s statement.
Selvam was well prepared by the CBI. My husband began his cross-examination.
“Did you go through the list of items seized from your house and signed under it,” he asked.
“Yes”
“Did you see me at your house? Are you sure it was me?”
“Yes”
“The CBI or police, they showed a photograph of me and told to say that the man in this photograph is Murugan. Is that right,” my husband asked.
“Nothing like that sir. I have seen you in my house,” Selvam said.
“You are an illiterate. You signed under what was given to you by the CBI. Am I right?” my husband shot the next question.
“No, I can read and write. I read and signed under it”
“You did not notice any photograph of mine in the house of yours. Did you?”
“Yes, I did not”
In that case, you are also declining that they (police) told you to identify me from a photograph of mine?
“Yes, I decline,” Selvam said.
“Sir, but you have signed under the statement that police found a photo ID of mine in your house and that they confirmed it was me by showing the photo ID. Now, did you sign under a false statement?” my husband had him locked. Selvam was lost for words. Those in the court hall laughed.
When SPPs lauded Murugan
None of the government lawyers who were arguing for us were paid by the government. They were conspiring to somehow wreck the support we had.
One fine day, senior public prosecutors Thande and Gopinath called me. They had argued against us all along. I went to meet them. The two of them stood up. Suddenly, they blessed me. “An important thing”, they started and said, “We observed your husband. His cross-examination skills are exemplary. That too, at such a young age. After release, ensure that he enrols for a course in law. He would make a good lawyer.”
Judgment day
I have to tell about the run-up to the judgment day. All of us could barely sleep. Our stomachs were in knots. Police officers had started wishing us in advance.
The day arrived. The Judge began to read out his order. Accused number 1 Nalini sentenced to death, he announced. Similar fate for Santhan and my husband Murugan. When the Judge read out the same sentence for accused number 4 Shankar, my husband let out a loud chuckle.
I asked him why he did that.
“Isn’t this a circus? All witnesses and proof show that Shankar has no connection with this case, whosoever. Still, he is awarded the death penalty! Isn’t this a thing to laugh about?” he said.
The 26 of us spent our final sunrise at Poonamallee Prison soon after. The men were separated into three batches and sent to prisons in Puzhal, Vellore and Salem. The five of us, women, were sent to the Vellore women’s prison.