For a social being like a human, being alone can be enjoyable, but it is not something we desire much. However, what if one is sentenced to solitary confinement?

Returning from that experience without bitterness is impossible. In many movies and books, we have seen people are tortured by being placed in solitary confinement. Just like food, air, water, and light, communication with other humans is essential for us, and taking that away makes us lose our sanity. The horror of solitary confinement lies there.

According to the Indian Penal Code (IPC), solitary confinement can be awarded for no more than 14 days at a time, for a maximum of three months. It must be given in intervals and periods. If imprisonment exceeds three months, then solitary confinement should not exceed seven days in a month.

This is how solitary confinement is described in the IPC. However, this is not how I or the other prisoners of Viyyur High-Security Prison experienced solitary confinement.

I am an accused person under the draconian Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) for an alleged Maoist link. I was arrested in November 2019 when I was 20 years old and was pursuing a BA LLB with my friend Thwaha Fasal. My case came to be commonly known as the ‘Pantheerankave UAPA case’. My arrest, made by the Kerala police, created a furore in the state as the Left government's general stand has been against the usage of the UAPA law. The case was eventually taken over by the National Investigation Agency (NIA). I have spent 10 months in three different prisons: Kozhikode District Jail, Viyyur High-Security Prison, and Kakkanad District Jail. My trial is underway before the special NIA court in Kochi. Since the trial is pending, I won’t delve into the details of the case.

Thwaha and I were in prison during the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic. We were thrown into solitary confinement continuously for days and months under the name of “quarantine”. I experienced it for a total of 44 days. During the second wave of corona, Thwaha and several other prisoners were in solitary confinement for months.

The officers treated us and the other prisoners with extreme cruelty. They locked us up, claiming it was to prevent us from getting corona. But what about them? They went out every day and returned, raiding our cells without wearing masks or gloves and touching our belongings.

The jail manual specifies that a prisoner sentenced to solitary confinement should be subjected to a doctor's examination, be placed where they can see people at a distance, and be ensured to have air and light, with officers nearby, among other directives. However, during the pandemic, those of us 'punished' with quarantine, a form of solitary confinement, had none of these provisions. Often, even when officers were nearby, they wouldn't respond to our calls.

Solitary confinement is a punishment that causes severe mental and physical deterioration and is the most severe punishment in the prison system. Only those with great mental strength can survive it. During a conversation with Vasu Ettan (Grow Vasu), he mentioned that during his seven years in Kannur Central Jail, he was once in solitary confinement. When he was released, he would often lie in the fields, gaze at the sky, and speak incoherently.

When speaking to ‘Ripper’ Jayanandan, who was a prisoner with us in Viyyur High-Security Prison, he shared his experience of solitary confinement at Poojappura Central Jail. In his dark cell, sunlight only came in through a small gap in the roof. Reading books in that dim light made his eyesight worse over time.

The distinctive feature of this punishment method is that it breaks a person down physically, mentally, and emotionally. Locking someone up without any sense of time, season, day, or night is torturous. If you have a book or newspaper, you are somewhat saved. For me, those 44 days were both an experiment and a time of productivity. I held on through my political commitment and by reading. However, there were many physical issues like gas buildup and low blood pressure, as well as mental challenges. The death of my grandmother’s sister, just 12 days after I saw her on escort parole, also plunged me into deep sorrow.

As part of the pressure to turn us into approvers, Thwaha and I were transferred to Kakkanad District Jail. There, we endured 16 days in solitary confinement. The Kakkanad District Jail was like the ancestral home of the NIA. The superintendents and officers treated us poorly, as instructed. They crammed us into a cell of about 65-70 square feet, without enough room to turn around, along with two other incarcerated persons. When Thwaha questioned this, they responded, "What do we care if you die?"

Also read: For the Government, COVID Is the Perfect Excuse to Worsen Conditions for Political Prisoners

Every day, the superintendent and his team of officers would make rounds threatening us, which was an amusement for them. Once, on the day our seven-day quarantine was supposed to end, they came and told us to wear the white clothes meant for convicted prisoners and greet the officers with 'Namaskar.' When we refused and told them it was not in the Kerala Prison Rules, they threatened to lock us up further. I responded, "Let it be then." So, we were locked in solitary for 16 days until we left. I was in Cell 5 of C Block in Kakkanad Jail, and Thwaha was in Cell 1.

When I stated in court that I couldn't become an approver and detailed what they did to us, we were charged with a new case, alleging that we tried to spread coronavirus and threaten the officers.

Reading was what gave me mental strength. During this time, I read the autobiographies of many, including Nelson Mandela, A.K. Gopalan, and Fidel Castro. It was also during this period that I managed to read the Code of Criminal Procedure (CRPC), IPC, and UAPA bare acts, which later greatly benefited my law studies. I could manage to read for 12-14 hours each day.

Apart from the threats from officers, there were no other disturbances. Not knowing the time was terrifying. Naturally, being confined in a closed room led to digestive issues and gas buildups. Often, I would wake up at night due to gas pains, eagerly awaiting and thinking the 5:30 siren would sound soon, only to find it was actually 2 or 3 in the morning. I tried to gauge the approximate time by looking at the sky. Since I couldn't sleep, reading remained the only way to pass the time.

Across India, the government used COVID-19 as a cover to harass political prisoners and violate their rights. Among these injustices, solitary confinement was the most severe punishment. Whenever we raised any protest, the superintendent would yell, 'Lock them up,' yet we faced it with a smile. Even when we complained to the courts, the prolonged and indifferent proceedings made it impossible to rely on them for hope. These barbaric punishment methods must be abolished, and strict action should be taken against the officers. But, if such practices continue even after gaining freedom, and innocent people have to endure such treatment, what hope can we place in this system?

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