Sivakumari, 25, Yeravada JailCharge: ProstitutionMaximum punishment: Seven yearsTime spent as undertrial prisoner: Four yearsNo hindi film could have a better script. A 19-year-old with an infant son is abandoned by her husband and left to support herself and her child. Without family or financial resources to fall back on, she hands over her baby to the care of her sister while she travels hundreds of miles to Mumbai, the city of lucre, with dreams of a job and of money. So far so good. Then, somewhere along the line, the story went horribly wrong for Sivakumari.From a village near Visakhapatnam in Andhra Pradesh to the heart of Kamathipura, Mumbai's red light district, Sivakumari's journey finally ended in a cell in the women's section of Pune's Yeravada Central Jail. Five years ago, the hapless woman - along with three others - had been lured to Mumbai by an agent with the promise of a well-paying job. It was a desperate decision. There was not enough income for even two meals a day.The dream abruptly turned sour. In Mumbai, Sivakumari found herself in a prostitute's den, enmeshed in the racket even before she realised it. "I was taken to the brothels to be induced into the flesh trade," she says, "but I managed to run away from there." .preferred-source-banner{ margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom:10px;}She works for her co-inmates in jail, washing utensils and clothes for bits of soap, oil and old saris.Her ordeal had just begun. Within a week, she was arrested on Grant Road near Mumbai's sleaze district and charged under the Immoral Traffic (Prevention) Act. Since then, Sivakumari has found a home in the female section of the Yeravada Jail. Justice has been unkind to her. She has technically been an undertrial for four years but her case hasn't come up for hearing even once.Says an anguished Sivakumari, now 25: "Even if I am convicted for this crime, I could face a maximum sentence of seven years. But I have already done four years and not a single court date has been fixed. People who came to prison much after me have had their cases sorted out." Back home, her eight-year-old son continues to live with her sister - or so she presumes - and is unaware of her whereabouts. "My family must be thinking I am dead. I cannot write letters to anyone because of the prison address. No one has come to visit me in all these years and when others have visitors or letters, I feel like crying." Yet, Sivakumari lives in the fear that she may be recognised by somebody from the real world: "My life is already destroyed. But if my family comes to know I am in jail, my son's life will also be destroyed. He will be out in the streets. It will also reflect on my sister and her family."Surviving in prison is another saga. Sivakumari possessed just one sari when she was arrested and undertrials are not provided prison attire. So she works for her co-inmates, washing utensils, clothes and performing sundry other chores for whatever little they may cast her way: a cake of soap, hair oil, old clothes. Deep inside, the flame of freedom flickers on: "As soon as I am released, I will go back home. I don't know when that day will come." It could take years; till then Sivakumari will just sit in her cell and stare at nothingness.Published By: AtMigration Published On: Aug 23, 2012--- ENDS ---
