by Paul Jordan
I was locked in now and managed a few hours’ sleep. Again the activity in my mind kept me awake. Even my nightly training session didn’t tire me enough to sleep. There was just too much going on for my poor, fevered brain to switch off.
23.
NIGHTMARE DAY SIXTEEN
Saturday 7 June
I was told on the first day by Manish that my court date was 7 June, but I insisted that was ridiculous and I wouldn’t even be here then. Well, here I was and it was 7 June — un-fucking-believable. However, I’d been disappointed before, so I didn’t even bother getting dressed; if they called my name it would only take me a minute to put on my trousers. It wasn’t as if I needed to jump in the car and drive 45 minutes to town. So, after my morning walk and wash, I relaxed in the cage. Then Gaz called the names for court and I was one of them. I also learnt from Satya that this court appearance was simply to be presented before my Magistrate to confirm I was still in custody and still alive. I quickly put on my good trousers and one of the Rivers T-shirts Sallie had brought me, and wandered over towards the administration gate where Gaz was calling names. The 20 prisoners going to court — including me — were moved into the administration area in preparation for loading onto the prison truck. I wasn’t looking forward to the prison truck or the cage at the courthouse, but going to court was going to be something different for the day.
The prison truck reminded me of my neighbour Carl’s cattle truck back in Dayboro on the northern side of Brisbane, although Carl’s truck seemed in better condition. This was going to be an interesting experience. When all the prisoners were in the administration area, they locked the gate behind us then opened the next gate and, in single file, we walked towards the back of the truck. As I approached the truck I could see a group of police watching me with interest and I braced for what I thought was going to be a beating. I was always surprised that one of the guards or a cop hadn’t taken the opportunity to try to smack me around already. As I came close to them and prepared to step onto the truck, a senior police officer pulled me aside and made me stand next to him as the other prisoners climbed onto the truck. When the last prisoner was on board, I made a move to get onto the truck, but the police officer held me back as the gate was closed and he told the truck to go. What the hell was happening now? I was worried. What sort of shit are these pricks going to pull that will legitimise the reason for my imprisonment? I suspected every member of the police of being in cahoots with the SP. Nothing they’d do would surprise me, but I had to be prepared.
Then Umar, the prison clerk, came out and, together with the senior police officer, we walked up the road past the police station to the courthouse. Bloody hell, here I was expecting a beating and now I wandering up the damned road! What is this place? I felt liberated and really enjoyed the walk. It also presented an opportunity to study the outside of the prison in case I needed to do a runner at some point. The walk to the courthouse was about 400 metres and went straight past the police station.
When we got to the court, all the prisoners were locked in a holding cell and I walked towards the cage, but was redirected to the police station and told to sit in a corner. I felt bloody guilty (appropriate for a courthouse) for not being in the courthouse cell, but relieved at the same time, while wondering what their motive was. The police all smiled at me and offered tea, which I accepted. Just like in the prison, the tea came in a very small glass — barely two good mouthfuls. The boy selling the tea was about eight or nine years old and seemed to find it interesting that a white man was in with the police. The senior policeman sat next me and said that they’d all heard of me through the Inspector at the border and all believed the SP was treating me unfairly. They couldn’t do much, but thought this hospitality would help. I thanked him for his kindness. He then bought me some biscuits to go with my tea. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I needed to eat another biscuit like I needed an AFL kick in the nuts.
From my seat in the police station, I could see all the activity going on at the holding cell. It was a strange situation, with relatives and friends trying to deliver goods to their loved ones in the cell. The police would allow it for a while, then start yelling and screaming at the offenders. Women and old men would approach the police and give them money to be allowed to pass goods to a prisoner. One poor guy, who didn’t want to pay, continuously defied the police order to back away and was detained and pushed into the small room behind me where he was beaten. It was as if I wasn’t even there. The guy started to cry and beg to be released, so they beat him some more. More police arrived and he was dragged away.
Then my time came and I was escorted to the courtroom. On the way, I passed my lawyer, Debu-San.
‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘I am filing submissions on your behalf.’
‘Do you want to tell me about them?’
‘Soon.’
He followed me into the administration room where a clerk looked at me, asked me to sign a form that I cleared with my betel-nut-stained-teeth lawyer, and then Debu-San and I found a quiet room for a brief chat. He told me that I looked too good and then showed me a petition for me to be moved to the hospital gaol on the grounds that I was going to die if I remained in the prison. The letter was beautiful and, as I read it, I began to slump and develop all these symptoms — or at least act them out anyway.
Petition from Debu-San
State Verses Paul Jordan (Accused)
Humble petition filed on behalf of the custody accused:-
Most respectfully herewith:-
1. That the petitioner is a foreigner and is inside the jail in connection with this case.
2. That the petitioner has fallen ill seriously and suffering from breathing trouble due to climatic effect and suffocation.
3. That the jail doctor has already examined the petitioner but in order to save the life of the petitioner it is essential to shift the petitioner to the Government Hospital.
Prayed
It is, therefore, prayed that your honor be kind enough to direct the petitioner to be shifted to the Government Hospital in Araria for better treatment.
And for this shall we ever pray.
We also talked about Monday — that was decision day, the day I was supposed to go to court for my trial. At least then I’d know what my future held. Frankly, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was trying to prepare myself to do six months in this shit heap. I’d considered escape, but would have needed a little outside assistance. I knew my friends were looking at plans to get me out of here, and if I was given more than six months, then I’d consider escaping, but only if I could do it on my own. I was concerned that these cops had old rifles and, during an ‘aided’ escape, someone might get killed or injured, or one of my friends might get caught and be stuck in here as well. It just wasn’t worth the risk and it was easier for me to take the severe kick in the arse for being so stupid.
I walked back to prison with the senior policeman. He told me to contact him if I needed anything. They all said that because I was white and perceived to be rich and they wanted some money. But the walk back was nice and I got another good look at the outside of the prison. The police station next door to the prison was a real bitch. I think I could have managed all the guards living around the prison, but the cop shop next door would have been alerted quickly to any disturbance. My initial plan was probably the right one — going over the back wall and into the bush area then heading north until I hit the railway tracks which continued north and ended right on the Nepali border.
Sallie and Martin came to visit. It was nice to see them. They were surprised to hear that I had been in court today. They brought more goodies, but I had to tell them not to bring any more. My stash of possessions was starting to attract too much attention. These people were prisoners and dirt poor with no possessions and the attraction of my valuables might have proven too much for them to resist. People were asking for things and I couldn’t give to one and not others. I no
w kept my cage door closed when I was out, but generally spent my days inside.
Again, Ujwal paid the clerk to approve all my goodies without a search. On the way out, Martin and Sallie got to have a look inside the prison yard. This came about because Martin told the loud-talking guard that I should leave for the day and Martin would take my place. Obviously Loud Talker laughed and then showed them inside the yard and I was able to point out my cage. Martin the ex-army officer knew the value of winning hearts and minds and worked hard on the guards. Loud Talker later came to my cell and mentioned that my friend had given him a salute when they first met. Loud Talker was very honoured and felt a bit special. That’s what winning hearts and minds is all about, and it costs nothing.
When I walked to the drain for a pee, I walked past the guy who was beaten this morning at the courthouse. He was a little bruised and seemed to be feeling sorry for himself — strange world. I guess he didn’t have to sneak things to his friend in gaol any more. In 14 days maybe people will be trying to hand him stuff when he’s in the courthouse holding cell.
I spent the rest of the day going though all the stuff Sallie and Ujwal had brought me. They had a restaurant in Nepal make me pancakes with honey. The honey had leaked out of the containers, and the pancakes were a good one inch thick, so I struggled to eat just one pancake, but they were good and it was a nice thought. I gave the others to Sanjay and the old man. Sanjay readily accepted the pancakes but, as usual, the old man insisted that I eat them. He was always worried that I didn’t eat enough, but I managed to convince him that I’d already eaten one. At least three times a day he came into my cell and motioned with his fingers to his mouth while saying the word ‘kanake’ which I took to mean ‘food’ or ‘eat’.
The magazines were great, but I found myself going back to the Sudoku puzzles. They really made me think and took my mind off my situation. And that was pretty much how I spent the remainder of that day.
24.
NIGHTMARE DAYS SEVENTEEN AND EIGHTEEN
Sunday 8 June
Same shit, different day. Couldn’t wait to see Sallie. The visits from her, Martin and Ujwal really made my day and broke it up nicely. I relaxed in my cage, covertly catching up on my text messages to my family. When that was done I hid my cell phone back inside my socks and read. I was lying on my stomach with my head towards the back wall when, a few minutes later, I was surprised by Bala and the Warden.
‘Good morning, Paul.’
‘Oh, good morning, Bala, you startled me,’ I said as I spun around.
‘I am sorry Paul, how are you today?’
‘I’m pretty good, thanks Bala. What brings you to my lovely home on this fine day?’
‘Ha. Once a month my police officers and I make an unannounced search of the prison.’
Oh shit. I had to clench my butt checks as my heart nearly fell out of my arse. ‘Really? What sort of things are you searching for?’
‘Anything illegal, but mainly cell phones. Paul, I must go, but I will call in on my way out.’
‘No problem, see you then.’
This couldn’t be happening to me. Now my cage was going to be searched, they would find my phone and I’d lose Bala’s support. As soon as Bala and his entourage left, I recovered my phone and slipped it into my underwear right down behind my kit. I looked at the rat holes in the cage and contemplated burying my phone, but thought this would leave some obvious sign and direct them to dig there. I decided to have a look outside for myself. Sure enough, there were bloody cops everywhere, and all looked suspiciously at me; they were probably surprised to see a white man appear from nowhere. I watched the searching as belongings were thrown out of the cells and the prisoners forced to wait outside until the search was complete. When done with one cell, the police all moved to the next and those prisoners were allowed to return and stow their gear. The obvious hole in the searching was that the police weren’t searching the prisoners. I decided to keep my cell phone just where it was, but went and sat in the repulsive toilet until I thought the police had been through my cell — I just didn’t want to be around in case a cop decided to do a body search. When I left the toilet the police had gone. By the time I returned to my cage, Sanjay was in a flap.
‘Sir, the Sub-District Magistrate came to see you, but you not here. Sir, you are very important man if the Sub-District Magistrate is your friend.’ Sanjay could barely contain his pleasure and excitement that I was friends with such an important man.
‘Okay, Sanjay, thanks mate.’
My cage hadn’t been searched and I went to the administration area to see Bala before he left.
The administration area was full of police. Some were wearing black silk bandanas on their heads. I knew Bala was in talking to the Warden so I waited next to Manish’s desk while checking out the Rambo wannabees.
‘That’s a nice bandana mate, are you a Special Forces policeman?’
‘No, commando,’ replied the cop with some authority and a hint of disgust that a prisoner had asked him a question.
‘Wow, commando, you must be good,’ I replied and he looked a little further down his nose at me.
You wanker, I thought and had a chuckle. Bala emerged and we spoke briefly before he was escorted away by his police guard and the ‘commandos’.
Sallie and Martin arrived shortly after. Martin is discreet and made an excuse after a while to go and take care of something so Sallie and I could have time together. Rajeesh hadn’t come today as he wanted the day off. I couldn’t say that I blamed him. That drive down and back every day must have been a pain in the arse. Sallie and I talked about my appearance in court tomorrow and I told her that it was likely court would take place without my being there. She disagreed. Anyway, there were three possible outcomes for tomorrow’s hearing: 1. all charges would be dropped and I’d be sent out of the country; 2. I’d be sentenced to 20 days including time already served which I could easily do; and 3. we’d go to trial — this would be the worst outcome. Bala and my lawyer believed it would be the second option. I didn’t care because I knew I could do another four days on top of the 16 I’d already done.
Bala and my Magistrate (Triparthy) were friends and the only two non-corrupt people in Bihar Province. This could have worked two ways — if Triparthy had been corrupt we might have been able to pay him off by now. Even though Bala and Triparthy were mates, Triparthy would not give anything away to Bala. Bala’s support to date had been invaluable. In fact, I’d have been in deep shit without him.
So, after a busy day of searches and visitors, I was left on my own again and spent the last hour of the day, after my old man bucket bath in front of the cage and before lock-up, sitting on the planter box wall with Satya discussing life in general and talking to other prisoners. Satya again asked some young bloke to sing for us. I’m sure the words were nice but, after one song, I thanked him profusely and started a conversation with Satya. Honestly, I’d rather have Tabasco sauce poured in my eyes than listen to another song.
Monday 9 June
I got up early anticipating being released or being told to do four more days. I knew I shouldn’t get my hopes up because they’d been dashed repeatedly before, but what could I do? In a place like this all you had were hopes and dreams and today I expected my dreams to be realised. Either way, morale was slightly higher and, as I went through the routine of pouring freezing cold water over me during my morning bucket bath, I prayed, once again, that this would be my last.
Time moved very slowly, the minutes seemed like hours and the hours like days. After an eternity, I looked at my watch to discover it was two minutes after the last time I looked. As I suspected, I wasn’t called to go to court and just had to wait it out. By 11.30 I was going crazy. I’d heard nothing and checked my phone every five minutes expecting a message from Sallie to tell me what was happening, but got nothing. I vowed I wouldn’t text her because I knew she’d be doing her best and didn’t need my interference. But I was dying and, in the end, I jus
t couldn’t stand the wait any longer and had to text. Her reply was crippling. ‘There are issues,’ she wrote, ‘be patient and wait.’ What fucking issues? I wanted to scream, what now? This couldn’t be happening! I just wanted to do a lunatic run at the wall and try to free climb it and then run like the wind. But I knew I’d get caught and would spend years here rather than months.
At 1.00 pm I went to the administration area hoping to see Sallie and the team arriving to see me, because I just couldn’t wait any longer. They weren’t there so, dejected, I walked away. At the last minute I turned to greet a guard and saw Sallie walk through the main gate.
Sallie and I sat at Manish’s desk and she held my hands and told me to concentrate on what she was saying and to be strong. Fuck me, this couldn’t be good. I wanted to just pay it all off and die right there. ‘Okay, she began, ‘Siddiqui lied, the police report says that you crossed the border with malicious intent to cause harm to India.’
‘What? Fuck me!’
‘No wait, listen to me. Triparthy [my Magistrate] agrees that you are innocent and even said so in court, but his hands are tied and he has to acknowledge the police report. So he can’t turn a five-year maximum term into 20 days on the back of a report like this. Now we go to trial.’
‘Fuck me,’ I mumbled.
‘Listen, the other thing we are now doing, and this came from Triparthy, is to ask the Indian Home Secretary to write a letter authorising your release. Martin is now talking to the Australian High Commissioner who has come in from his day off to get the ball rolling with the Home Secretary. So you will go to court tomorrow and you will plead not guilty and then we’ll get you moved to the hospital.’
I was destroyed. I wanted Sallie to go and push things along with Martin, but I also wanted her to stay with me. Eventually she left and I returned to my cage. I just wanted to curl up and slip into a coma until all this was over, so I took half a sleeping pill and slept for the afternoon. I woke at 6.00 pm to the old man nagging me to have my bath. The old man had a worried look on his face as I stumbled into the courtyard suffering from the lingering effects of the sleeping pill. I had a quick wash then returned to my cage. The old man helped me put up my mosquito net and I took another full sleeping pill and settled in for the night. I just wanted to sleep until all this was over.