I got to read this unusual book the other day, amidst news of the Maharashtra government planning to pass a law to deal with the “increasing presence of Naxalism in urban centres”. Such is the dire need felt by the government that it has decided to bring in an ordinance as the bill could not be passed before the house was adjourned. When the basic laws like the Indian Penal Code, Criminal Procedure Code and the Evidence Act can be replaced by three Sanhitas after expelling the opposition from the Parliament, such moves by the governments need not surprise anyone.
I instinctively felt a connection between Ehtesham Siddiqui’s memoir Horror Saga in my hand and the new law that was coming, which had the promise to produce more such sagas in the future, whether it gets a single “urban naxal” or not.
The poignant subheading of the book says: “A lyrical ballad written from jail by one of the twelve innocents convicted in the 7/11 Mumbai train blast case of 2006”. I had read and reviewed the book Innocent Prisoners written by Abdul Wahid Shaikh, the lone person who secured an acquittal in this case. He had also documented the harrowing sessions of tortures he and his co-accused suffered over a long custodial period. Having coming out of jail after nine years, Shaikh has devoted himself to helping the cause of scores of innocent prisoners who are languishing in Indian jails as terrorists, naxals and such like.
Shaikh has formed “The Innocence Network” which is a collective of organisations dedicated to providing pro bono legal and investigative services to individuals seeking to prove innocence in crimes for which they have been convicted and working to redress the causes of wrongful convictions. Its web portal theinnocent.in has compiled considerable material in the form of court judgements, testimonies of the accused, and other material relating to the cases easily accessible to the public. A laudable initiative – but not in the eyes of the state, which can pounce upon it at any time with the new weapon it will soon wield in the form of the new Public Security Act.
Ehtesham Siddiqui
In his Foreword to the book, Shaikh briefs readers on Siddiqui’s background. He is from a small village in the Jaunpur district in Uttar Pradesh, where his wife, two brothers and parents still live. After class nine, he came to Mumbai for his education, and secured admission to an engineering college at Pen in Raigadh district. He was first arrested in 2001, when he was a third-year student of Chemical Engineering, for being a member of the Students’ Islamic Movement of India (SIMI). He was released on bail with the condition that he should report at Kurla police station twice a day, which made it impossible for him to resume his studies.
Siddiqui started a printing business, and later established a book publishing house in 2004. He got married in 2005. The very next year he was again arrested by the ATS in the case of the serial bomb blasts that took place on 11 July 2006, in the compartments of local trains at seven different locations in Mumbai within minutes, taking a toll of 188 lives and leaving some 700 injured. Siddiqui spent nine years as under trial along with twelve others, and took several educational courses in the meantime through IGNOU, including an MA in English and a Master of Management Studies.
He had enrolled for a law degree while lodged in Mumbai jail, but after the verdict of the special court in October 2015, which gave death sentences to him and four of his co-accused – and life imprisonment to seven others – he was shifted to Nagpur jail and was not permitted to take an examination at the Mumbai College. His appeal is pending with the Bombay High Court for the last nine years (since 2015). Siddiqui swears that he and all his co-accused are innocents. If indeed the courts confirm it, how will the state account for the horror it unleashed, not only on him but also on his family back home? The Constitution promises the right to life that is to be protected by the state, but is quiet on what happens if the state itself destroys the lives of innocents.
What happened to Shaikh, GN Saibaba and his co-accused who were acquitted by the courts after years of incarceration? Can anything compensate them for the loss of the years during which they were made to suffer? And for the suffering of their families? It is Saibaba’s acquittal that the Maharashtra government vocally cites in justification for bringing the new Public Safety Act, in utter disregard of the Constitutional provisions. Unbeknownst to it, the government has revealed that it believes Saibaba is guilty, even though the court has repeatedly acquitted him. Therefore it wants the new law to punish all those who it (its police) believes are guilty and should therefore be punished.
This book, however, tells us that even the existing judicial framework is good enough for this, given the impunity of the police. It has long been sending innocent people to the gallows.
Muslims in India
Siddiqui laments in his Preface: “In India, my community is persecuted. The legal system, from police to prison to judiciary, is all hand in glove to see that innocents be convicted.” It is no more a conjecture – it has been established. In fact, current developments may make it sound like an understatement. Not because Muslims get lynched simply because they are Muslims or their homes get bulldozed with impunity, but because of a different kind of horror in making, which will stamp them de facto second-class citizens.
Recently, Muzaffarnagar police in Uttar Pradesh seeded the idea, demanding under the pretext of the Kanwar Yatra that all eateries and hawkers selling eatables, including fruits, must display their proprietors’ names, so that Kanwar Yatris are not “defiled” by buying food from Muslims. It created a controversy, with the Supreme Court ruling against it. AIMIM MP Asaduddin Owaisi rightly reminded us that it was no different from what was called Apartheid in South Africa and Judenboycott in Hitler’s Germany. Worse, it is an official revival of the idea of untouchability.
Siddiqui’s book is a poetic narrative of the chain of events that befell the author right from his detention through police custody, prisons, trial in the Sessions Court and beyond. It is an urge to tell his truth to the world; a kind of a statement before going to the gallows, a dying declaration.
Why Siddiqui chose the genre of “lyrical ballad” to narrate his tale is not known. The ballad may be an excellent genre for narrating one's bitter experiences for several reasons. Historically, ballads have been used to tell stories of personal and communal suffering, making them a familiar and trusted medium for sharing difficult experiences. Ballads often use simple yet powerful language that can convey deep emotions effectively. This makes them suitable for expressing pain, sorrow, and other intense feelings associated with bitter experiences.
The narrative structure of ballads allows for a clear and engaging recounting of events. This format is ideal for sharing personal stories of hardship or trauma in a way that is both compelling and relatable. The repetition of lines or refrains in ballads can emphasise the emotional weight of certain experiences, making the impact of the story stronger and more memorable.
The rhythmic and lyrical qualities of ballads can enhance the expression of emotional experiences. When set to music, the emotional resonance can be amplified, making the audience more receptive to the narrator’s feelings. Writing or reading ballads can provide a cathartic experience, allowing individuals to process and express their emotions in a structured and creative way. Overall, the ballad’s combination of narrative clarity, emotional depth, and lyrical beauty makes it a powerful genre for conveying bitter experiences.
How well Siddiqui handles the form is a mute question. But the sheer power of horror that his story reflects totally overwhelms the search for literary value in his narrative. After each stanza of the ballad he uses a refrain: “Because this was a setting / Hence forget about telling anybody / What happened in the custody”. ‘Setting’ in colloquial Mumbai is something pre-planned, which is what the entire narrative emphasises. Every event he describes in a stanza ends with the refrain that it was pre-planned. There is a QR code and URL provided to access his 43-page testimony given in court, which may also be read alongside his narrative to get a feel of the chilling details of the saga.
A cynical view of such accounts would be that all criminals try to project themselves as innocent. But that is not what Ehtesham Siddiqui or Abdul Wahid Shaikh are trying to do with their memoirs. They are putting forth the facts to the people of the country to understand the innate injustice of the systems that run it. Innocence is to be proved in the courts, which, no doubt, they will. It is significant that despite the load of negative experiences with the justice delivery system, he has not completely lost faith in the system. The very beginning of his Preface testifies to this faith when he says:
“Truth is truth and truth ever prevails. This is the only reason I hope that I along with my co-accused, who have been convicted to death sentence and life imprisonment, will be finally exonerated from all accusations.”
It is the far more weighty faith of one who has lived through the persistent injustice of the system over two decades of his life, compared to the slogans of “Satyameva Jayate” (the truth alone triumphs) by our “patriots”.
The saga comprises 200 stanzas. In each, Siddiqui narrates the incident fraught with injustice. For example, what marked the inflection point in his endurance of inhuman torture was what he describes as the threat by the police to parade his father naked (as referred to in the Kurla episode below) as they did to others and perpetrate related horrors on both his sisters if he did not sign the confessions drafted by the Police:
Now I face the fifth round of torture
For them it was a new adventure
They induced me and promised to me
And with all methods, they tortured me
Now such a threat, that no one can bear
My both sisters’ photographs were there
They remind me of Kurla episode
And said: “your sisters we have stowed
All my courage, shattered to pieces
I was ready to sign on their thesis
Now all the officers were smiling
Because this was a setting
Hence forget about telling anybody
What had happened in the custody
Another one depicting the corruption in jail he experienced:
Everything in jail is purchased and sold
With money, anybody can be taken in fold
Pay an amount to get home food
And keep a servant in the neighbourhood
Pay the amount and go to the hospital
For the ailment you do not suffer at all
Pay the amount and loiter anywhere
In all circles of jail here and there
Pay the amount, and get entire days interview
With family, advocate and friends a few
Law can be bended by bribing
Because this was setting
Hence forget about telling anybody
What had happened in the custody
Memoirs of death row prisoners offer a unique and poignant perspective on the criminal justice system, human resilience, and the complexities of morality. There are several such accounts written in the Western world, but not many by the Indian prisoners. For instance, Damien Echols, who spent nearly 18 years on death row before being released in 2011, has written a famous memoir titled Life After Death. It details his harrowing experience, the flaws in the justice system, and his personal growth and resilience during incarceration. These memoirs not only chronicle the lives of individuals on death row but also serve as powerful critiques of the criminal justice system, emphasising themes of injustice, redemption, and the enduring human spirit.
Horror Saga should be welcomed therefore by all people who wish India to be a great democratic country, sans any such horror sagas.
Anand Teltumbde is a noted civil rights activist and author of many books.
Horror Saga, Ehtesham Siddiqui, Pharos Media.
