Police procedure, as witnessed on India’s streets, is a very different beast from what is enshrined in the books of law. It is the unspoken truth that police stations contain all manner of unspeakable horrors for those unlucky enough to find themselves trapped inside. Tales of these horrors rarely make it out of those grisly confines and into the popular imagination though. For the most part they are ignored, unquestioningly accepted as a necessary evil that only hurts those who violate the law.
However, innocents end up behind bars all too often and Lock-Up: Jottings of an Ordinary Man by M. Chandrakumar is a first-hand account of how that innocence is systematically exorcised in the process of making criminals out of whoever is handy. The book, translated into English by Pavithra Srinivasan, begins with three forewords—reminders that the Tamil version of the book had been through multiple editions long before Visaranai , the film adaptation, became India’s official entry to the Oscars in 2016.
Set in a milieu populated by itinerant labourers, shopkeepers, and odd-jobs men, the book tells the story of Nelson, Ravi, Moideen and Chandrakumar—young men living a nomadic existence devoid of comfort but rich in cinema-fuelled dreams. Arrested under absurd, barely intelligible circumstances and charged with nothing in particular, they navigate the unfamiliar and unpredictable insides of the police beast together. Eventually, a crime is found that suits the suspects and the Kafkaesque machinery of the police station is set in motion in an attempt to make it stick. Brutal beatings in the name of interrogation, already a daily ritual, would now be accompanied by the suggestion that confessing would make the torture stop. The shadowy figures at the window and the hole in the door reiterate the command, as does the stench of the shared urinal-hole in the corner of the room and barely edible meals and the constant pain and a million other daily reminders of the misery of life in a lock up.
The narrative has a consistent staccato rhythm, delivering details in short, sharp sentences that are sometimes odd in their construction, but more importantly, honest and grounded.
The author, Kumar, is an oddity in his environs: a daily wager who has read of Henri Charriere and Bhagat Singh and considers himself a Communist. Every so often, his intellect and obvious literary flair shines through the barebones narrative, elevating a particular thought or observation above the events that surrounded it. The translation does an excellent job of rendering these moments in English.
The ordeal played out over 13 days, catapulting Kumar to the status of a reluctant leader and hero. It ends as abruptly as it begins, with the inscrutable inspector deciding that his prisoners could no longer be denied a court appearance. Faced with the fresh hell of a never-ending trial process, they confess in court, finally ending Kumar’s dilemma as to whether to ‘remain a thorn in their side or become a thief worthy of their affection’.
The writer is a freelance journalist based in Chennai.
Lock-Up: Jottings of an Ordinary Man, M. Chandrakumar, Tranquebar, ₹195
