Devil’s Advocate continues ………….

I saw a person who suffered from dwarfism, whom I immediately recognized. He was Tantrey, member of a terrorist outfit we had busted when I was joint commissioner of the Special Cell of the Delhi Police. He was working on a sewing machine and it was amusing to see how he avoided making eye contact with me and pretended to focus on his job.

Another person I took note of was a tall, muscular, broad- shouldered middle-aged man with a spring in his gait, who walked several yards ahead of me and the jail staff escorting me. Dressed in a white shirt, white trousers and white canvas shoes, he strutted around as if he owned the jail. I took him to be a jail employee walking with me to provide security. Occasionally, he would tick off an inmate here and a jail warden there.

So taken up was I by his personality that I inquired of the jail superintendent who he was. The jail superintendent whispered in my ear that he was a convicted murderer. A little later, during my walk-around, out of sheer curiosity, I inquired, ‘Whose murder was he involved in?’

Someone from my entourage replied, ‘Sir, he killed an advocate.’

Though anxious to know more details, I restrained the urge to ask further questions and waited for an opportune moment.

I visited the living quarters—or wards—where inmates were lodged. Though overcrowded, they were reasonably neat and clean. After I spoke to a few inmates, I was taken to the jail kitchen, where chefs from amongst the inmates were cooking food for over a thousand fellow convicts. Much like what I had seen in the prison bakery, the cooks wore caps and gloves and went about their jobs in a clockwork fashion, churning out rotis on giant tawas at a frenetic pace.

The superintendent requested me to taste the food and record my comments in the inspection register. A bite of roti taken with dal and sabzi tasted sublime. I dutifully recorded my complimentary inspection note, heaping praise on the prisoner chefs.

To be Continued ………….