After six hours of tortuous work under the fierce Indian sun, Sushil Dasguputa's hands were covered in his own blood; his body exhausted from the relentless and monotonous motion of pounding coconuts to produce a backbreaking quota of fibre. His throat was bone dry. He stopped to ask the guard on duty for a cup of water but instead the overseer raised his whip, bringing it down over and over with a torrent of abuse. These were the working conditions awaiting political prisoners sent to the Cellular Jail – a brutal British penal colony on the Andaman and Nicobar Islands off the Bay of Bengal.
No matter how fatigued the inmates became, resting was not option. Sinister punishments awaited those who showed any sign of slowing. When not labouring they occupied separate cells, even their toilet breaks were strictly regimented. Any prisoner who had the need, would have to hold it for hours until they were permitted by the guards.
Like hundreds of other men on that island, years of Sushil's life here would be filled with torture, hunger and loneliness. They would be worked like slaves. Some would go mad, others would be driven to suicide. This place would form one of the darkest chapters in India's struggle for freedom.
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The Horror House of Andaman
Horrorwalls have ears... walls witness fears... walls watched their tears... broken bones and ruined careers.. sweat and screams shattered dreams gates of steel which we can only hear but not feel
