Liquor, cut fruits, prisoners dancing: Another video of Bengaluru Central Jail goes viral

By _shalini oraon

Beyond the Bars: What a Viral Video Reveals About Modern Prison Reform

Another day, another viral video from Bengaluru’s Central Jail. This time, the footage shows a scene that defies the grim, popular imagination of prison life: inmates, seemingly at a social gathering, are dancing. Some are holding what appear to be glasses of liquor, while plates of cut fruit sit on tables nearby. The immediate, predictable digital firestorm erupted. Outrage over “five-star facilities,” accusations of systemic corruption, and indignant questions about the punishment in “punishment” flooded social media. But to dismiss this video as merely evidence of a broken system is to miss a far more complex and important story about justice, humanity, and the challenging path toward prison reform.

The initial public reaction is understandable. The visual of prisoners, individuals who have been deprived of their liberty for breaking the law, engaging in what looks like a celebration, directly clashes with a deep-seated societal desire for retribution. Prisons, in the collective psyche, are meant to be places of deprivation—monotonous, harsh, and isolating. The sight of liquor (even if later claimed to be a non-alcoholic beverage) and festivities feels like a betrayal of that ideal. It fuels the narrative that the system is soft on criminals, that it coddles offenders while victims receive no justice. This sentiment is powerful, visceral, and politically potent.

However, this surface-level reading ignores the critical context of what prisons are ultimately meant to achieve. Is the sole purpose of a prison to inflict misery? Or is it to rehabilitate, to prepare individuals for a successful reintegration into society? The World Health Organization and numerous criminology studies have long highlighted that overcrowding, idleness, and brutal environments are not just inhumane; they are criminogenic—they create more hardened criminals. Inmates released from such environments often return to society more angry, traumatised, and skilled in criminality than when they entered.

This is where the concept of normative rehabilitation comes in. The dancing, the social gathering, the simple act of sharing cut fruit—these are all facets of normal, pro-social human behaviour. The rigid, dehumanising routine of prison life strips away individuality and the ability to make positive choices. By allowing controlled social interactions, prison authorities can create an environment where inmates practice conflict resolution, build communal bonds, and retain a semblance of their humanity. A person who is treated like a monster is more likely to become one. A person who is given opportunities for normalcy and responsibility retains a foothold in the society they are expected to rejoin.

The presence of what is alleged to be liquor is, without doubt, the most serious allegation and requires a thorough, transparent investigation. If contraband alcohol is indeed flowing freely, it points to a significant security and corruption failure that must be addressed. However, it is also worth considering the possibility, as some officials have suggested, that the drinks were non-alcoholic, perhaps part of a festival celebration. The assumption of the worst, without evidence, often prevents a nuanced discussion.

The viral video also serves as a stark reminder of the vast chasm between the lives of undertrial prisoners and convicts. India’s prisons are tragically filled with individuals who have not been proven guilty—they are awaiting trial, often for years. For these undertrials, such a gathering, if sanctioned, could be a rare respite from the psychological torment of indefinite waiting. For convicts, especially those serving long sentences, these events can be powerful tools for maintaining mental health and order within the prison walls. A population with hope and occasional relief is far less likely to riot or resort to violence than one crushed by despair.

Furthermore, the selective nature of viral outrage is telling. This is not the first such video from Bengaluru Central Jail; others have shown inmates participating in elaborate drama performances, yoga sessions, and even tech fairs. These videos rarely go viral with the same fury. Why is public dancing more offensive than public rehabilitation? It seems the spectacle of joy is more threatening to the punitive mindset than the spectacle of education. This suggests that the public’s discomfort is not necessarily with prison activities, but with prisoners appearing to be happy.

The real scandal, which these viral videos often obscure, is not the occasional party but the chronic, systemic issues that plague the Indian prison system. The real scandals are the overcrowding, where inmates sleep in shifts; the abysmal healthcare; the slow, grinding pace of the justice system that keeps undertrials languishing for years; and the lack of adequate vocational training. These are the failures that truly break spirits and perpetuate cycles of crime. Focusing on a three-minute video of dancing allows society to ignore these more intractable, and expensive, problems.

The viral video from Bengaluru Central Jail is a Rorschach test for our collective attitude towards justice. For some, it is incontrovertible proof of a system in decay. For others working in criminal justice reform, it is a potential, if messy, sign of a system struggling to become more humane. The path forward requires moving beyond the outrage cycle. It demands a mature public conversation that asks difficult questions: Do we want our prisons to be warehouses of rage and future crime, or centers for accountable rehabilitation? Can we accept that punishing the body does not necessarily reform the mind? And can we comprehend that a prisoner dancing today might be a better, more peaceful neighbour upon release than one who has known nothing but brutality behind bars?

The dancing prisoners challenge us to choose between retribution and redemption. The easy answer is anger. The wise one is a much harder, more nuanced pursuit of a system that truly delivers justice, for both society and the individual.