PRISON BREAK: MY METICULOUSLY PLANNED ESCAPE FROM THE WORLD’S BIGGEST PRISON

For the first 5 years i did not even plan the prison break. I kind of enjoyed it in there. My prison mates were some of the best people I have ever met in my life. They came from many different places. They spoke different languages. And had varied experiences in life.

First few months in the prison were strange. Overwhelming. But then I started liking the people in there. They had different backgrounds— gangsters, artists, doctors, engineers, students, sports persons, construction workers, etc… People from all walks of life.

Rather for 5 years, I felt this prison was the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Inside, I had my own gang. Not to fight and all. No. Its not like that in there. Though I did fight with one or two inmates. Sometimes, long fights in the open, right in front of other prison mates. But unlike what people think, it is not all about fights in there.

Most of the time we shared life experiences. We discussed about our pasts. We played games. Sometimes I played games with stranger inmates. We chatted freely. Some of us also wrote poems. It is interesting how free time can bring out the best in you. You start doing things you would have never done in your time outside.

In my gang, we discussed politics a lot. We would discuss current affair and stuff like that. We were an educated lot, if it was any worth in there.

Time went by nicely for 5 years. Then it was time for the national elections, outside. Somehow things changed inside too. It was the first time I saw the prison lit up in fire. It had never happened before. As if we were going to make the revolution happen from in there. It was chaos. It was in the peak of these political brawls that I decided, i needed to break free.

So for the next 2 years I planned my escape.

I was in there for life. This prison was of that kind. You didn’t get in for small sentences. These were long sentences. Once you were in, you were in for life. At least that’s what I believed. There are no paroles or bails. The only way out was to break free. Everybody in there knew this reality.

I had heard many stories of other inmates who had escaped from the prison. There were those here among us, who had escaped, and were caught again. Many had escaped multiple times. Legends. They spoke freely about their escapes and the cruel world outside.

The prison staff didn’t do much to avoid prison breaks. Their strategy was to make our lives inside the prison good enough, so we didn’t feel like breaking free. Many of the folks who came back, were not caught because they did something stupid outside. No. They just wanted to come back. They did not have a resolve strong enough to deal with the realities of the outside world.

It’s funny how the prison can grow in your head. But I did not want to come back. I had decided. It was my turn to escape. So I slowly started dwelling on the idea. It was then that I realized how attached I had become this life.

I liked the bickering. I liked the senseless poems. The raps. The jokes. The imaginary talks about world politics and world wars. I liked everything we were doing in there. As if we were all together in there as a family. Some lunatic priviliged ones actually believed they could change the world from in there. But most of us liked wasting time like we had nothing else to do in the world. The world behind these walls was fascinating. It was more comforting than the real world out there.

In real world there are struggles, there are real things. But inside the prison, it was all simulated. Struggles were real but of a different kind. Mostly it felt like we were taken care off. We shared a common sentiment amongst ourselves — availability of free time & nothing else to look forward to. It was a strong bond. The bond got stronger as I got to know other inmates and heard their stories.

It will surprise you how much the inmates lie to each other in prisons. All of us, most of the time, lied about our real world situations. Everyone knew that everyone else was lying. But that was the fun of it. What else would you do, if you had so much time at hand? So, we cooked up stories. We lied about our lives enormously. That’s how bonding happened. And that’s also how we gained the privilege. What privilege?

Influence. This is the biggest privilege inside a prison — Influence. How well you are known among other inmates. What’s your influence on them. How you are perceived. Because we had nowhere else to go. We were there all the time caught up behind the walls.

Every prison has its own politics. So you tell stories. The more convincing your lies are, about who you were in the outside world, the more influential you become in a prison. A seemingly gangsta boss might not even be a mouse out there. But he has a second chance in the prison. He can make believe anything he wants to. A quack can be the world’s best heart surgeon in here. Inside the prison you can live your fantasy.

Moreover, after 2 years behind the wall you even start forgetting who you really were in the real world. You can live your lies to the fullest. You can literally bullshit all the time. And enjoy it with other inmates.

You can build your influence through other means also like, playing card games, chess, video games & betting on stuff. You can get good at that. You can even play for money. This is how I got to know other gangs.

Most of the time our prison was a peaceful place. The popular belief that there are always riots happening inside prisons and inmates are mean to each other, is totally wrong.

Once a while riots did happen. But they were mostly localized. There was hardly ever a prison wide riot. Can’t happen. Doesn’t happen. Most of the time they are small brawls. Then people talk. And they get creative. They start making stories. These stories take their own life. Before you know there are stories on top of stories. Soon, these stories travel to other prisons.

But most of the prisoners are peaceful, nice, time-wasting folks.

There were programs in prison where we could learn new skills. We could even earn some serious money. I never got a chance to do that. Nor did I see any of my gang folks crack such deals. Every now and then we heard rumors about someone cracking it big. I don’t know. I think most of the times these rumors were spread by the authorities.

This went on for 5 years.Then, the elections came. And all bad things started to happen.

It actually got violent & abusive in there. How could something form outside the prison so irrelevant to our lives inside the prison aggravate us. There was a real division of opinion. And it was as if everyone took their opinions to the soul. It was murky. Things got very heated. Cell mates fought.There were graffitis all over the prison walls. It was a virtual riot.

And the prison staff did nothing to stop it. It was the first time I really felt that i did not belong in this place. I got caught up in my own political opinion too. My relationship with my own gang members went sour. The bonds started to weaken. I realized it was time to break out of the prison.

The first rule of prison break is, you don’t talk about prison break. There were folks who had discussed their intent of breaking free with other inmates. They never made it out. Not because they were beaten up, or someone informed the authorities. No. It was exactly the opposite.

See, whenever you disclose an intent to break free, your gang doesn’t want it. So they cajole you to stay a little longer. They start acting extra nice to you. They make you feel at home. They make you forget that you are stuck behind the walls.

They break your determination. And once you let slightest of doubt to crack in, you are sucked in fully.

I knew this. So I kept all my plans to myself. I started preparing. The first step to prepare for a prison break is to slowly withdraw yourself from the daily bickering.

Participate, but lower your influence. Slowly and in a very calculated way you have to start coming out of things. And you have to make it look natural. Let others take over the charge. Make it look like you are a loser.

Take a hit or two in the next brawl. This makes your gang feel compassion for you. They give you time and space to feel low and withdrawn.

This is exactly what I did. I started staying low. I let them feel I was getting old. More than anything, this strengthened my resolve to break free. It kept my resolve safely guarded from any attachments.

The other thing I did was I started preparing myself for the outside world. I remembered what it was like to be in the outside world. I remembered my past. I started peeping out from my window often. I started charging myself with views of the real world. I started taking small strolls alone.

This is very important. Because you should not feel frustrated when you are out there. You shouldn’t be missing the prison life even on your loneliest of nights. You should not give in to the urge. Just one move can put you back behind the wall. You can’t entertain even an urge to go to a smaller prison. You should learn to bear the agonies of a normal living. Bear it. Never to return.

So I quietly prepared and prepared and prepared.

If you hate prison, you still have it in your heart. So, you have to give up the hate too. You have to just get over it. You have to resolve never to return. That’s it. No reason.

And so, it was time. I had prepared myself enough. I felt it in my bones. I was ready. I was a nobody in the prison. A person who would not be missed. My resolve was complete. There was no doubt left in my heart.

Now, all I had to do was time my escape. It could be in the middle of a festival, the Oscars, a world-cup or any other big event. Yes, big events were very popular in our prison. You should see people expressing their excitement. It will put the normal world to shame.

Anyways, it was the 2018 football world cup finals, France vs Croatia. This was the night, I felt everything was right. It was raining outside. The night was dark. I was alone. Every cell was loud. Guys were painting graffitis on their prison walls.

I watched half the game. After half time…

I took a deep breath. Looked outside the window. Looked at the trees. Looked at my bed. Looked at the moon shining its rays back at me through the clouds for a second. This was the sign. I closed my eyes. I knew this was it.

And with a snap of a finger, I deleted my Facebook account and uninstalled the app from my phone. I held my breath. Took a long pause. And emerged back with a gasp. For once and for all, I had escaped the prison. The prison in which I was locked for past 7 years.

It was done. It was done.

“It’s done” I told myself.

I took a sigh of relief. At last, there was a life ahead of me now. A real life.

I laid down on my bed with a smile. A tear came rolling down my left cheek as I gazed at the ceiling. A sense of relief dawned upon me. I was waiting for the new day, for a new chapter in my life to begin. I had successfully broken free from the biggest prison of the world, never to return.