She was old. With so many wrinkles running across the canvass of her face, I was trying to access her age. She was crying.   

“This woman hits me,” She pointed towards a young woman, sitting among the crowd.

I looked at the woman she was pointing at. The young woman was indifferent and had a flat expression. The old woman was still crying.

I was silent; So was the Jail staff present.

“She hits me like this,” The older woman made a fist and punched herself in the face.

“…Like this,” She had hit herself again.

I gently tried to stop her from hitting herself any further. This made her cry more.

“Look at my hair, they are all gray,” She uncovered her head, which was so far covered by her sari. “…and still she hits me. “

What should I do? Should I ask the young woman why she did that? Should I try to find out if it’s true or not? Should I tell the Prison staff that it’s not done and they should do something about it?

I sat there with the old woman – holding her hands, listening to her. Registering everything she said – the reason for being hit, when it happened and a few more details.

After a while, she had nothing more to say. I stroked her hair, like I would do to a five year old child.

“Koi nahin marega aapko,” I said. (“Nobody will hit you,” I said.)

She sobbed for some time, and then stopped.

I will never know what that moment meant to her, but for me it was so deep, so thick.

I will never know how she felt, but I felt so much love in that moment. A sense of unity with her and everything present in that moment.

Later, I was walking through a passage, with the jailor and some other prison staff towards his office.

“Long periods of confinement bring in stress to many of these women. It is hard. “The jailor said.

He was possibly right.

“You are right perhaps,” I said. “But can we ensure that nobody hits her.” I was not looking at him.

We continued to walk.

“This shouldn’t happen in my jail. Ensure it. “The Jailer instructed the woman in charge / warden of the women’s jail, who was walking with us.

For the rest of our walk, we all remained silent.