Quote:
Originally posted by Fallen Angel+09-28-2003 12:34 AM--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td>QUOTE (Fallen Angel @ 09-28-2003 12:34 AM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'> <!--QuoteBegin-Section 8@09-24-2003 10:24 AM
FA, without proper rehabilitation treatment, after they've surved their sentence they'll most likely return to a life of "crime." As I said in another topic all that you want to do is delay the problem, while I'm offering a way to confront and eliminate it.
Have Fun
Shalom |
And what rehabilitation treatment do you recommend Section 8? [/b][/quote]
http://www.vri.dhamma.org/
tiharprisons.nic.in/vstih...reform.htm
Vipassana in Jails: An Historical Review
by Ram Singh
The first course of Vipassana conducted by Goenkaji in a prison was in l975 at the Central Jail Rajasthan. When I was the Home Secretary of that state, I had myself undertaken a Vipassana course, and experienced a profound change in myself. On the fourth day of my course, I felt that Vipassana was a technique which could solve not only individual problems but also problems of society, and could bring reform in government as well. On the evening of the fourth day I met Goenkaji and shared my reflections with him. I asked him whether this technique could be a tool to change the system in government. He agreed, and I immediately asked whether we could arrange to hold a course in a jail. He was very positive and told me he would come if I arranged it. This was a big challenge!
I set about talking to the authorities concerned-the Chief Minister, the Chief Secretary, the jail officials. Initially everybody was very skeptical, but finally a decision was taken to make an experiment!
The real difficulty came when Goenkaji arrived in Jaipur for the course. I had to tell him that it would not be possible for him to stay in the jail; he was to stay in a beautiful bungalow outside the jail instead. He said he had to stay inside the jail twenty-four hours a day, because Vipassana is a deep operation, and he is like the surgeon. The difficulty was the jail manual. Only those who had been sentenced to imprisonment or those under trial or members of the jail staff could stay in the jail. I posed the problem to Goenkaji and he said, "Sentence me!" I was aghast, shocked; how could my Teacher be sentenced to imprisonment? The legal department was consulted and it seemed there was no solution. We issued administrative instructions and resolved the problem.
Goenkaji was allowed to stay in the jail, in a makeshift room in the jail dispensary. Another problem came when the course was just about to start. At that time ankle locks and handcuffs were used for hardened criminals. Four such prisoners were brought into the meditation hall bound in these iron handcuffs and ankle locks. Goenkaji was walking nearby and when he saw this, he was amazed. He asked me what was going on. I told him these were hardened criminals. He exclaimed, "How can people in chains be put before me? This cannot happen. Remove the chains!"
But the Inspector General of Prisons (IG) said that the security in the jail was his responsibility, and he could not remove the ankle chains or the handcuffs. However, Goenkaji was firm. He said he could not give Dhamma with people sitting before him in chains-he had come to remove the chains. The IG told him he could remove the chains from within, but not the outside chains! Goenkaji insisted that those who were meditating must not be in chains. This was a big dilemma, a big problem!
The IG was a very experienced officer. He asked me not to force him to relax security requirements for those prisoners. He said any one of them might try to be a hero, and strangle me or Goenkaji to death in a split second. We discussed the problem and finally came to an agreement to remove the chains and
fetters. An armed guard would be kept ready at a strategic point to shoot the criminal if he started to advance menacingly. I told the IG to ensure that any mishap or panic shooting did not take place.
The chains and locks were removed. Goenkaji was pleased. The course started. I sat close by. The IG stayed out of the hall but remained very close. My eyes were fixed on the "Four", heart throbbing and deep anxiety within! But every passing moment was a relief unbounded. As Goenkaji started chanting, his mettħ [loving kindness] was flowing profusely. The red-hot eyes of the criminals who were the cause of so much turmoil changed and their faces beamed; tears streamed down their cheeks. Tears rolled down my face also; it was a rare moment filled with joy after such high tension. The efficacy of Vipassana was established! Goenkaji's narration of AŞgulimħla's story flashed in my mind.
There was another event which was deeply moving. There were two condemned prisoners awaiting execution of the death sentence. They couldn't be accepted in the course. During his morning round, Goenkaji passed through their cells and decided that they could be given Anapana and Vipassana in the cells by loudspeaker from the hall and we agreed. They started meditation, made great progress, and felt happy. They listened to the discourses in the cells, as did many others. We had arranged the relay of the discourses throughout the entire jail campus.
After the course was over, one of the condemned prisoners sent me a message that he had decided to withdraw his mercy petition to the President of India. He was ready to die. He now had Dhamma and felt totally fearless of his impending death! In the meantime his petition had been rejected, and the day of execution by hanging had been fixed. I was invited to witness the sad event. The prisoner came out of the cell smiling and in high spirits. He thanked the jail staff and went to the gallows with a cheerfulness never witnessed before.
In 1976 a course was held in the Police Academy at Jaipur for the police officials, where personnel right from the deputy IG to the constables sat. We had a second course in the Jaipur Central Jail in 1977. These were very successful courses. Then I was transferred to another post. My successor in the office felt that meditation courses might dilute the deterrent impact of punishment, so the programme did not continue. I had a great longing that Vipassana would come there again. I asked Goenkaji about it, and he said that the seed of Vipassana had been planted and it would sprout again some day. Every year I would go and talk to him, expressing regret that this valuable experience was not being repeated. Goenkaji told me not to worry, the time would come.
The time did come. The seed sprouted, and sprouted so well. In 1990 another course was arranged in the Jaipur Central Jail. My colleague Mr. Tandon conducted that course. It went very smoothly and a big transformation took place. I was very happy. Then the Gujarat Government was approached, but they had a lot of misgivings. I was told by the Home Department of Gujarat that if I conducted the course they would not have any objection. I welcomed the offer. We had the first course in a Gujarat jail in 1991, at the famous Sabarmati Jail, Ahmedabad. Then the courses started in Central Jail, Baroda. Dr. B.G. Savla led the first course. To date there have been five courses. The Superintendent of Baroda Jail, Mr. R. Vora, has written a book in Gujarati about these courses, entitled "Diwalon Mein Diwyata" (Divinity Within Walls). It is an inspiring story. Baroda Jail is now a house of reforms.
Then came the courses at Tihar Jail, in the capital city of India, New Delhi. With eight to nine thousand prisoners, Tihar is one of the largest jails in the world and, until recently, one of the most infamous. Bringing Vipassana to Tihar was also a difficult journey. I will begin with a brief mention about the first course, which was held in late November 1993.
In July 1993 Mr. M.L. Mehta, Additional Secretary in the Ministry of Home Affairs, Government of India, wrote to me asking if I could organize a Vipassana course in the Central Jail, Tihar. He knew about the benefits of the Rajasthan experiment in the central Jail, Jaipur. Soon an urgent telephone message came from Ms. Kiran Bedi, Inspector General Prison, Tihar Jail, urging me to arrange the course. It took some time to make preparations, such as training of jail staff, selection of the Ward and course venue, pre-course orientation etc., for which we made a few visits to Tihar jail and met Ms. Bedi and her team of dedicated officers and staff.
I was amazed at the enthusiasm and team work at Tihar under the dynamic leadership of Kiran Bedi. She accorded a high priority to reform measures such as a sustained literacy drive, vocational training, a de-addiction programme, yoga and all those steps that could lead to the alleviation of suffering. Later when Goenkaji led a Vipassana course in Tihar in April, he publicly mentioned that he would like to call her "Karuna" Bedi, for her deep compassion. Once I mentioned that she has kindled the light "Kiran" in the darkness of jail. She blushed.
So the hour struck for the first Vipassana course in Ward 10 of Jail 2. The ward housed convicts of serious crimes and a few high security persons awaiting trials and court hearings. Ninety-six inmates were selected, most of them convicts, and also twenty-three jail officials of different ranks.
When my two colleagues, Professor Dhar and Mr. Chaddha, and I arrived for the course, we found that Kiran Bedi had given a directive that we should have a good room and good food. But she also said that special food would not be given to the course participants because there were about 9,000 prisoners in the jail, and if she gave milk and fruit and such things to only some of them, there would be a big revolt.
Now, what was the prison food? In the morning there was a parotha or bread pakoda; for lunch, there was roti (flat bread) and dal, or roti and subji (vegetables); in the evening there was khichri (mixed rice/dal), a little milk, and sometimes kheer (rice pudding). Evening khichri was a real treat, but the food was very tough-chillies, pakoras and
dark tea.
When I found that we were to live in a good room and take good food while the prisoners were deprived of this, I felt that this could not be. So we decided that we would live as the prisoners live. We would not stay in the special room, and we would eat the same food as the prisoners.
The course started. The first night was a very difficult night for me and for my colleagues. The cell in Tihar Jail is a unique structure with two rooms. The first room, with an outside verandah, is open to the sky, with bars across the top and high walls to prevent escape. The inside room has three compartments: space for a bed-a raised platform of stone or concrete about 3 ft by 6 ft, an open water pool for bathing and washing clothes, and a toilet, all close together. It was winter, which in Northern India is very cold. For reasons of hygiene and health, I advised my colleagues to stay in the outside room because the inner room was close to the toilet, and there was a pool of water.
I discovered in the early morning that they had gone to the inner room due to the severe cold. But I remained in the outer room which was open to the sky. The ceiling bars had been covered with blankets, but around eleven o'clock a shrill and icy wind swiftly blew the blankets away. I was shivering, badly shivering, even though the jail authorities had provided sufficient new blankets and I had my own blanket. It was a very difficult night, and then in the morning came the jail breakfast!
I have stomach problems and at my home I am very fussy about food, having boiled vegetables and no chillies, etc. But those ten days I took the prison food, and I can say that nothing happened-no constipation, no burning in the stomach. As the days passed, each one of us felt that we had never eaten such delicious food! In fact, when I returned to my home, I asked my wife to cook the dal I ate in jail! The cook who prepared the food was a convicted prisoner but he was very kind and compassionate. We all felt convinced that his good volition added to the taste.
The Jail "lunger" where food is prepared is an institution in itself. It is very neat, clean, efficiently run and managed by the convicts, an ideal community kitchen.
On the second day I discovered to my great distress that out of one hundred and nineteen students, about thirty were smoking, and many were talking. They broke the rules of silence and s²la [precepts] with impunity. I was alarmed, and called a meeting with them to ask why they were doing this. They said I couldn't stop them from smoking. They also said they would talk, whether there was a course or not.