Her Emergency prison diary

‘What do you achieve by all these unnecessary harassments? It only lowers your prestige. It’s a question of deep shame — and nothing else…’

‘My body may suffer humiliations, but my spirit, the human spirit, cannot be suppressed for long.’

— Snehalatha Reddy in her diary, as shown in the film ‘Prison Diaries’

On June 25, 1975, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi declared a state of Emergency in India, suppressing all fundamental rights and censoring all media. Many were incarcerated and many went underground. Among those who were imprisoned during this period (1975-1977) was actor Snehalatha Reddy, who had acted in the award-winning Kannada film ‘Samskara’, besides ‘Chanda Marutha — Rogue Winds’, etc. An ethereal beauty, she was the only woman political prisoner of the time who spent eight months in solitary confinement, fell sick while in prison, was released on parole, only to die within months of it, of a heart attack. She recorded her thoughts on her ordeal in prison in a diary, which forms the basis of this short documentary film called ‘Prison Diaries’, by feminist historian Uma Chakravarti.

The film was recently screened at the Travelling Kolkata People’s Film Festival at Hyderabad (after having premiered in Kolkata early this year). It analyses Snehalatha through her diary entries, reliving the times through her daughter, Nandana, son Konarak, filmmaker Deepa Dhanraj, and others.

Rich in colour, music (by Konarak) and deep silences, even dwelling on a tiny sparrow by a window of their house, the audience can feel the pain of the incarceration, though long removed in time. We are shown images of Snehalatha, some scenes from her films, and her diary entries. Snehalatha and her husband, film producer Tikkavarapu Pattabhirama Reddy, were followers of Ram Manohar Lohia and also associated with George Fernandes during those heady times.

Political dissent of women is a theme that Chakravarti often returns to in her films. “These are people who have gone to prison for their conscience, because they did political work and that brought them right in the middle of the political storm,” she says.

But how did the academician move into filmmaking? Chakravarti says, “It was my relationship with history that led me to become a filmmaker. My entry into filmmaking began with an unexpected discovery of an unusual archive: a trunk filled with memorabilia and a lot of papers. This trunk belonged to child bride Subbulakshmi (1897-1978), who entered the freedom movement, but could not carry on with it because she was married to a Salt Inspector who worked for the colonial government…”

Chakravarti says the archive was interesting to her because it included books, notes, receipts, such as one for a book bought from Higginbothams in Chennai; the first edition of ‘Red Star Over China’ (by Edgar Snow). It also included the book and some correspondence with Rabindranath Tagore.

“As a feminist writing about women’s history, this was an exciting prospect. Usually, unless they are participating in public life in any significant way, you do not get to know anything about women. I stumbled upon this material because (late) Mythili Sivaraman (feminist Left activist from Tamil Nadu), Subbulakshmi’s granddaughter, wanted to write a book on her, and sought my advice since I am a historian… Intrigued, I asked Mythili if the trunk was still there and when she said yes, I began to envision that as a film… It appealed to me both visually and thematically. And thus my first film, ‘A Quiet Little Entry’, happened.”

About Snehalatha, she says, “I myself became political during the Emergency because at places like Miranda House, many students were picked up and taken to jail. One of my colleagues, Rama Mitra, had given me a copy of Snehalatha’s booklet, ‘A Prison Diary’. which I had for years. I made my first long political documentary titled ‘Ye Lo Bayaan Humare’ (‘And We Were There’), which documents women from all political formations, including K Lalitha, Veena Shatrughna, and others who went to jail during the Emergency. That was my magnum opus capturing Naxalbari in Bengal (Part 1) and the Emergency (Part 2).”

As for the resources, she says, “While I managed to get money for ‘Prison Diaries’, I made other films (including ‘Zameer, the Voice of Conscience’ on women activists like Soni Sori and Dayamani Barla) purely from my pension money. Of course, it has become increasingly difficult to screen these in prominent public places.”

Still, she has not had problems with the governments in power because these films are not direct indictments of any particular ruling government, but more a comment on the nature and political economy of the state.