Brutal torture inside Indian jails: The Case of Bihar

Brutal torture inside Indian jails: The Case of Bihar

June 22, 2025

[64-year-old Vijay Arya is a political prisoner. He has dedicated his entire life to the struggles of the poor and Dalits. While in Buxar Jail, he was brutally beaten. This powerful and chilling report by Vishwa Vijai, published in Jan Chowk , reveals how prisons have now turned into torture chambers, and how prison authorities are becoming increasingly sadistic and criminal.

An excerpt from the article situates the condition of jails in Bihar: “Among prisoners in Bihar, these jails are now notoriously nicknamed: District Jail, Araria: Saydnaya Prison (after the infamous Syrian torture prison); Special Central Jail (3rd Wing), Bhagalpur: Guantanamo; Central Jail, Buxar: Abu Ghraib”]

It is being said that this week is being observed globally as Anti-Torture Week. There will be discussions on ending torture, which is certainly necessary. But will any steps be taken to stop the torture taking place inside prisons?

This article is about the brutal torture inside Indian jails.

According to the Constitution and laws of India, no citizen, including detainees and prisoners, can be denied their fundamental rights. The law does not permit mistreatment, inhumane behavior, or cruelty toward any prisoner. Every inmate has a fundamental right to clean water, nutritious food, and medical care. However, when prisoners peacefully demand these rights, they are often subjected to brutal torture by prison authorities and staff.

While tales of police and prison brutality are not new, today the race to set new records in cruelty among police and prison officials appears to be intensifying. One such horrifying account has come to light from Buxar Jail in Bihar, a story that deeply unsettles both the heart and the mind. Vijay Kumar Arya, an undertrial prisoner lodged in the Anda Cell of Buxar Jail, has written a lengthy first-person account documenting the torture he endured. He writes:

Prisoner Vijay Kumar Arya’s Account:

I, Vijay Kumar Arya, am an accused in Patna NIA Special Case No. 5/22. I was arrested on April 11, 2022, from Rohtas district. On June 7, 2022, I was brought from Sasaram Jail to the NIA court in Patna, and on the same day, I was transferred to the Adarsh Central Jail, Beur, Patna, where I remained incarcerated.

In the last week of June 2024, a new superintendent, Mr. Vidhu Kumar, took charge at Beur Jail. Upon assuming office, he immediately began drastically cutting the food rations allotted to inmates. For instance, although the jail manual stipulates 250 grams of rice or flour per prisoner, he reduced this to 100 grams per meal. The rotating daily breakfast that inmates were entitled to each day of the week was discontinued. The weekly special meals (chicken, paneer, eggs) were also stopped.

Of the 110 wards in the jail, approximately 80 to 90 were sold off to dominant or powerful inmates for ₹2 lakh each. Items in the government-run prison canteen began to be sold at twice the printed retail price. All Sudha dairy products were sold at ₹5 above MRP. Even the jail ghumti (gate booth) was sold off. Previously, if a prisoner wanted to be transferred to a preferred ward, they would pay ₹500. Now it was ₹1000.

The jail’s only deluxe toilet was also sold, and inmates were forced to pay ₹10 per use or ₹300 monthly to access it for bathing or defecation.

Those who had “purchased” wards began to charge inmates ₹1000 per month for a bed, and ₹3000-₹5000 per month for food. Superintendent Vidhu Kumar began locking up wealthier inmates in special cells (called Golghar and Kalapani) and extorting amounts ranging from ₹5000 to ₹5 lakh from each.

Whether convicted or undertrial, every inmate was subjected to abuse, beatings, and humiliating treatment under the new administration. The situation became so intolerable that inmates were pushed to the brink.

In response to the above issues, we attempted to meet with the jail superintendent to find a solution, but he refused to speak with us. At that point, the inmates decided to launch a protest against the ongoing atrocities inside the jail. On August 29, 2024, we announced an indefinite hunger strike and submitted our charter of demands to the superintendent.

Starting the morning of August 30, 2024, the following 14 inmates began the fast unto death:

• Pramod Mishra, Ward 3/20
• Rajesh Kumar Singh, Ward 3/20
• Rohit Rai, Ward 4/1
• Dheeraj Kumar Paswan, Ward 4/1
• Subedar Yadav, Ward 4/1
• Anil Yadav, Ward 4/4
• Sonu Kumar, Ward 4/4
• Bijli Mahto, Ward 4/4
• Ajay Singh Bhokta, Ward 4/4
• Kariman Nonia, Ward 4/4
• Dharmveer alias Chooha Yadav, Ward 4/4
• Rajesh Kumar, Ward 4/5
• Kanta Paswan, Ward 4/5
• Bhola Singh, Ward 4/15

Every day, hundreds of prisoners were pledging to join the hunger strike in rotation, under my leadership. Yet, the jail superintendent continued to refuse dialogue and instead resorted to repression. On the very same night of August 29, the day we announced the hunger strike, I was transferred to Buxar Jail, and Pramod Mishra was sent to Special Central Jail, Bhagalpur, at 11 p.m.

Tale of the Torture Chamber

On the morning of August 30, 2024, at around 7 a.m., I entered the Central Jail, Buxar. I was presented before Assistant Jailer Shiv Sagar at the jail’s entry branch office. The moment he saw me, he began hurling vile abuses, invoking my mother and sister. I was stunned. Why was the jailer treating me with such hatred?

He ordered a guard to call in two BMP (Bihar Military Police) constables with lathis (batons). When they arrived, they asked, “What did you do in Beur Jail?” I replied, “I didn’t do anything wrong. Yes, we had declared a hunger strike due to non-implementation of the jail manual regarding food.” At this, they became furious. The jailer shouted to the BMP constables, “Roast him properly!”

Then one constable took me to a corner of the office, grabbed both my hands, and bent me forward. The other began raining down baton blows on my buttocks and thighs. Hundreds of strikes. When he was exhausted, I was brought back before the jailer.

The jailer again hurled filthy abuses, as though my mother and sister were government-owned land. He turned to the constables and yelled, “How did you beat him? Not even a tear came out! Beat him again!”

Again, I was bent over and struck more than 100 times. I screamed, but neither the beaters showed mercy, nor did the jailer who orchestrated it.

When the constable was gasping for breath, I was again dragged before the jailer. He glared at me with bloodshot eyes and barked, “He’s still standing stiff? Beat him so badly that he limps back to the cell!”

They dragged me again to that same corner. This time, one constable beat me with a baton while the other forced me to lie on my stomach, sat on my back, lifted my legs, and thrashed the soles of my feet repeatedly. When they were done, I was once again forced to stand before that executioner-like jailer, though I could barely remain standing.

Jailer Shiv Sagar, continuing his verbal abuse, ordered me to hold my ears and do 20 squats, while saying aloud, “I will never again lead a protest or hunger strike against jail authorities.” When I refused, he commanded the guards, “Hit him hard from both sides until he collapses unconscious!”

I was forced to obey, squatting and rising repeatedly, until I collapsed to the ground. Only then did the jailer order that I be sent to the Anda Cell (solitary high-security ward).

After leaving the office and reaching the gate, I was searched again and began gathering my scattered belongings. Suddenly, a gate warden struck me from behind with 15-20 baton blows, delivered in a frenzied assault. He might have continued beating me, but another constable grabbed his baton and said, “Leave him. He’s an old man.”

I am 64 years old. Limping, I somehow made my way to the ghumti and the cell.

Once inside the Anda Cell, I wanted to see the doctor that evening and request pain medication, but I was not allowed to go to the hospital. I asked for hot water, but was denied that too. Instead, a constable abused me verbally.

I writhed in pain for 24 hours out of fear and trauma. I could neither lie down on my back at night, nor sit still in peace. For three days, even sitting to defecate was excruciating.

On the second evening, I was taken to the jail hospital for a check-up, but no medicine was given. In my cell, I was provided with only a clay pot, a plate, and a blanket. I asked for a bowl and a cup, but did not receive them. In fact, no prisoner in that section is given proper utensils. If you bring a bowl or cup from another jail, it is confiscated at the gate or ghumti.

Out of desperation, I cut a plastic bottle and made two makeshift cups. The bottom half was used to hold lentils, curd, milk, kheer, or vermicelli, and to drink tea. The top half, sealed with the cap, was used to drink water. I managed for almost three months using these plastic makeshift cups, until they started to crack and tear apart. One evening, when Jailer Raghvendra Babu came to the cell, I showed him the torn plastic and said:

“I’m living in a 21st-century jail, and I’ve been managing for three months with this bottle cup. Now it’s also falling apart. Please, either give me a new bottle so I can make another, or give me a bowl and cup.”

Perhaps out of embarrassment, he sent me a bowl and cup the next day. But most other inmates are still forced to use cut plastic bottles as makeshift utensils.

It should be noted that Bihar ranks fourth in the country, after Andhra Pradesh, Telangana, and Tihar Jail, in terms of expenditure on prisoners. And still, this is the condition.

Behind this, of course, lies corruption and a deliberate psychological drive by prison officials to maximize suffering for inmates held under “administrative detention.”

Observations

Reading this account from Buxar Jail in Bihar, no sensitive person could remain unmoved by anger and sorrow. It is important to note that the superintendent of Buxar Jail is a woman, Gyanita Gaurav, under whose orders Assistant Jailer Shiv Sagar and jail staff carried out these acts of cruelty against prisoners.

[Observation from Sanhati: A simple Google search reveals that Gyanita Gaurav is a “Distinguished Alumnus” of the Department of Geography, University of Delhi. It should be noted that the same page lists as her cohorts several prominent academics in Geography departments in North America and India.]

In the case of Shakila Abdul Ghaffar vs. Raghunath Dhokale, AIR 2003 SC 4567, the Supreme Court ruled that torture in police custody constitutes a violation of Article 21 of the Constitution. Yet, police and prison authorities continue to subject inmates in custody or judicial detention to cruel treatment with complete impunity, disregarding the law, human rights, and Supreme Court rulings.

In his long article, Vijay Arya continues the narrative of cruelty in Buxar Jail:

Vijay Kumar Arya’s Account Continued:

On September 15, 2024, the inmates in Anda Cell-A of Buxar Jail decided to boycott the food in protest against its poor quality. I was part of this protest. The inmates demanded a meeting with the jailer in charge of the cell. After the afternoon roll call, Assistant Jailer Shiv Sagar came to the cell, and the inmates raised their complaints about the quantity and quality of food. The jailer promised improvements.

For the next few days, the food did improve. But then, within three or four days, the lead protesters: Bablu Kushwaha, Athwas, and Chhotelal – were summoned to the ghumti (gate booth) and brutally beaten. They were told: “So, you think you’re leaders? Going on hunger strike? We’ll fix that.”

In Buxar Jail, the method used to beat prisoners is infamously called “Sridevi Style.” In this method, the person to be beaten is brought to the ghumti and made to stand with his body pressed against a pole. Two guards hold the inmate’s arms tightly so he cannot move. Then, two others, either jail police or BMP (Bihar Military Police), begin raining baton blows from both sides. This is done in four to five rounds, with around 100 blows per round.

While the beatings happen, jailers, constables, and even other inmates use vulgar language and obscene gestures. The entire scene is so degrading, it resembles livestock being punished.

Assistant Jailer Shiv Sagar taunts the victim mid-beating, saying:

“Son, you’re not being beaten. Imagine you’re kissing Sridevi.”

Jailer Raghvendra chimes in:

“Son, imagine this isn’t a beating. It’s making love to Sridevi.”

One of the jailer’s loyal inmate enforcers adds:

“Son, you’re not getting beaten. You’re having sex with Sridevi.”

Upon hearing this, everyone around laughs. The victim, meanwhile, cries, begs, and pleads for mercy, but his voice is meaningless in that environment. After four to five rounds of such torture, the prisoner is thrown into a cell and left to writhe in pain.

Dozens of inmates like Bablu, Athwas, and Chhotelal have endured this fate. And this continues to this day.

What is shocking is that the superintendent of Central Jail, Buxar, is a woman, Gyanita Gaurav. Yet in matters of repression, she is even more unrestrained. She has been complicit in and has approved all the above abuses. She personally orders the beatings. The only difference being that she leaves the ghumti immediately after giving the command.

Perhaps she is embarrassed by the sexualized language used, or perhaps the male officers hesitate to say such things in her presence. That may be why she chooses not to be present during the beatings.

Whether it is the Superintendent or the Jailer of Buxar Jail, their minds are filled with inhuman perversion and cruelty. The grotesque method of torture that takes place in the jail, named after a respected and deceased actress, was conceptualized by none other than the Superintendent herself. Though she is a woman, her mindset, worldview, and behavior are thoroughly patriarchal. Her authoritarian views are steeped in oppression toward the poor and working-class prisoners.

Old inmates of Buxar Jail recall that when Rajiv Kumar was Superintendent and Tribhuvan Singh was Deputy Superintendent, such beatings under “administrative detention” did not occur. But since Gyanita Gaurav became Superintendent and Raghvendra Singh became Jailer, such abuses have become routine.

The torture meted out through the “Sridevi Style” beatings was so unbearable that one day, inmate Athwas Miya attempted to commit suicide by slitting his wrist in Anda Cell-A. Coincidentally, on the same day, another inmate, Golu Mishra (from Siwan), attempted the same in T-Cell. Thanks to the alertness of fellow inmates, both were saved and immediately rushed to the jail hospital. After they recovered, they were again dragged to the ghumti and subjected to four or five more rounds of “Sridevi Style” beating.

Golu Mishra was thrown into Anda Cell-B, and Athwas Miya was left to suffer in T-Cell. The order for these beatings came directly from Superintendent Gyanita herself.

The Truth About Administrative Detention

To be an administrative detainee is to be a slave. Just as slaves were treated in ancient Rome, so too are administrative detainees treated in Bihar’s jails.

When these detainees are beaten, they are not allowed to meet family for two to three weeks. They are denied the right to write letters, make phone calls, or even appear in court proceedings.

Even if they appear via video conferencing, they are threatened beforehand not to report any abuse or torture to the judge. If they dare to speak up, they are warned that worse beatings will follow.

To ensure this, the sound on the video conferencing system is muted. Their names are not entered into the prison’s government call booth system for months. In my own case, it took three months before my name was finally added.

When I asked for paper and pen to write a letter home, Jailer Shiv Sagar said that whether an administrative detainee has the right to write letters and whether that letter must be written on a formal application or plain paper would be decided only by the Superintendent.

I never received it.

When I asked for a prisoner application form and a pen to submit an application to the court, Jailer Raghvendra said, “Only after the Superintendent gives permission.” I submitted two applications and personally told Jailer Priyadarshi twice, but I was never granted a meeting with the Superintendent.

Their attitude toward the inmates is oppressive and violent.

The jail superintendents and jailers who send prisoners into administrative detention inform the receiving prison authorities by phone, telling them why the prisoner is being transferred, and what kind and degree of torture should be administered. The torture is then carried out accordingly.

As per the instructions of Beur Jail Superintendent Vidhu Kumar, I and CPI(ML) leader Mrityunjay Kumar were beaten in exactly the manner he prescribed to the Buxar jail authorities. In the Special Central Jail, Bhagalpur, Pramod Mishra (75 years old) and Arman Malik were also beaten. In Mandal Jail, Araria, Nawal Bhuiyan and Mithilesh Verma were beaten until they lost consciousness. Rakesh Kumar Kranti was beaten in Muzaffarpur, and Vinay Yadav alias Jijebi Yadav in Mandal Jail, Bhabhua.

Among prisoners in Bihar, these jails are now notoriously nicknamed:

• Special Central Jail (3rd Wing), Bhagalpur: “Guantanamo”
• Central Jail, Buxar: “Abu Ghraib”
• District Jail, Araria: “Saydnaya Prison” (after the infamous Syrian torture prison)

This raises a critical question: If food is not provided according to the jail manual, and dialogue and efforts for reform fail, how is a peaceful hunger strike or fast unto death by prisoners considered such a grave crime? And is it legally justified to respond by slapping administrative detention charges and transferring prisoners to far-off jails?

In fact, nearly two dozen prisoners were transferred from Adarsh Central Jail, Beur, Patna to the above-mentioned jails just for the “crime” of hunger strike.

According to rules, prisoners sent under administrative detention must be brought back by the police of the district where they were transferred. But in practice, the sending jail rarely recalls the prisoner after the detention period ends. As a result, the prisoner remains stranded in the receiving jail for years.

This also becomes an opportunity for rampant bribery.

Those who want to return to their home district jail must negotiate with the jailer and pay hefty bribes to facilitate their return and resolve their legal cases. Only after this does the jail superintendent or jailer send a letter to the police line major requesting a guard for transport. This process involves bribes ranging from ₹25,000 to ₹5 lakh.

For instance, in May 2024, a prisoner was sent from Beur Jail to Buxar Jail. After six months, his administrative detention period was not extended, nor did Beur Jail recall him, nor did Buxar Jail send him back. Even eight months later, the court did not take cognizance. No video conferencing or physical court appearance was arranged.

The prisoner then tried to arrange a return to Beur Jail. A deal was struck with a Buxar jail assistant jailer for ₹30,000, and the bribe was divided among Buxar and Beur jailers, as well as the Patna police line major. If a prisoner’s lawyer requests physical appearance in court, it usually only happens on explicit court orders. In most cases, appearances are conducted via video conferencing. Even when the court orders physical appearance, only police from the relevant district are allowed to escort the prisoner.

These days, violating court orders has become increasingly common. In Bihar, many superintendents and jailers have been found to be in contempt of court orders.

The same thing happened in my case. On August 29, 2024, I was transferred to Buxar Jail, but the Superintendent of Beur Jail did not obtain any court order for the transfer. In cases of administrative detention, it is mandatory to get permission from the court where the prisoner’s case is being heard before transferring them. I am an NIA detainee, and my case is being tried in a Special NIA Court.

Then, on November 29, 2024, the NIA Court ordered that I be held in Beur Jail. When the police brought me there, Superintendent Vidhu Kumar refused to admit me. Even after the court staff (peshkar) spoke to him on the phone, he still refused to comply. For three to four hours, this game continued at the jail gate. Finally, at around midnight, I was taken back to Buxar Jail, where Jailer Shiv Sagar violated the court’s order and kept me there.

On December 9, 2024, the Special NIA Court again ordered my transfer to Beur Jail. I was admitted that day, but just five days later, I was sent back to Buxar Jail. It felt as if the jail superintendent had placed himself above the judge. The law was not functioning by legal process but by personal whims.

One core purpose of administrative detention is to delay the resolution of undertrial cases, cut prisoners off from their families, impose economic and psychological burdens, and in effect, punish or seek revenge. Behind the facade of administrative detention, jail authorities are running a racket of arbitrary power and exploitation.

The poor, the marginalized, Dalits, and political prisoners suffer the most under this regime.

What is happening under the name of administrative detention is not the act of one or two jailers or superintendents. It is a full-fledged criminal syndicate operating across the entire prison department. This includes the Jail IG, guards, staff, superintendents, and even dominant inmate enforcers. The district administration is also complicit in this network of repression, torture, and loot.

The day Bablu Kushwaha, Athwas Miya, and Chhotelal were beaten, the very next day, the District Magistrate and Superintendent of Police of Buxar came to the jail to conduct an investigation. Bablu Kushwaha explained everything to them and took off his clothes to show the brutal injuries. Both officers remained silent. They did not express even a word of sympathy.

Later, Jailer Shiv Sagar entered the Anda Cell, thumped his chest, and declared:

“DM? So what? If we want to beat someone, even the judge can’t stop us.”

The inmates took his words as law.

That is why, when the Chief Judicial Magistrate of Buxar visited the Anda Cell in late January 2025, no one dared to file a complaint. Out of fear.

Conclusion

This is just a glimpse of the systematic repression described in the article by Vijay Arya, who is currently imprisoned in Anda Cell-A of Buxar Jail in Bihar. Under various subheadings, Arya’s account details numerous disturbing stories of cruelty and corruption inside Bihar’s jails. The incidents he recounts cross all limits of brutality, violating human rights, flouting Supreme Court guidelines, and trampling the fundamental rights enshrined in the Constitution.

Shouldn’t the Bihar government take action against the Superintendent and jailers of Buxar Jail?
Shouldn’t human rights and civil liberties organizations bring these atrocities before the courts and raise their voices against them so that the law, the Constitution, and the basic rights of citizens can be defended?

The original article was written by Vishwa Vijai and published in Jan Chowk.

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