If you’re a prisoner like Kasab, you’ll be hanged and buried. If you’re a prisoner like Afzal Guru, you’ll be hanged and buried. If you’re a VVIP’s assassinator, you’ll end up waiting elections and watching porn on smartphones. If you’re a petty criminal, you’ll end up cooking chicken for VVIP’s assassinator while he watches porn. But if you’re a prisoner of incontestable manliness and escape-leading balls, you’d probably roll up your sleeves and scale the shit out of prison’s outer wall while yelling at security guards: “Suuuuuuuck Myyyyyyy Diiiiiiiiiiick.” Just like the following folks did:
Kill someone popular, you’ll suddenly become more popular than the dead one. You can also make it to the Wikipedia despite the frequent friendzoning incidents on Facebook. Let’s look up Sher Singh Rana, the man with two lions in his name.
Don’t stare at boobs, bastard.
A terrific douchebag during his college days, Rana once spoofed his abduction to gain sympathy of students in the upcoming elections. He was smashed. However he didn’t give up and chased fame in a way Charlie Sheen pursuits hot asses every possible time.
Sher Singh Rana, finally, came to prominence (or notoriety) after gunning down the kickass bandit queen Phoolan Devi on July 25, 2001, outside her New Delhi residence. Rana knew that sending the dacoit turned politician to a far-off galaxy could catapult his name into the mainstream. He was right.
Phoolan Devi had killed 22 upper-caste villagers of Behmai village on the Valentine’s Day of 1981. The incident which is popularly known as “Behmai Massacre”, was avenged by Rana in order to appease his community members. On July 27, 2001, Rana was nabbed from Dehradun and was transported to Tihar Jail – an industrial complex for criminals of gigantic balls.
Thou can’t snatch my freedom:
Behind the bars, Rana was not interested in writing about political or communist ideologies like Hitler or Karl Marx. So he decided to move away.
Rana and his brother Vikram hatched a prison escape plan and called up Sandeep Thakur (a resident of their native place Roorkee) to volunteer in the break out. Thakur visited Rana in Tihar four times – thrice as an advocate Pradeep Kumar and once posing as Rana’s friend Ravi. Meanwhile, jail officials were busy in rubbing khaini and farting on observatory towers whereas some were busy in:
I’m not too good at holding it.
On February 17, 2004, Thakur once again entered Tihar as a cop of Delhi Armed Police to take Rana to a court in Haridwar. Thakur made an impressive entry with forged documents and took away Rana after collecting Rs. 40 as diet allowance. The brilliantly executed escape was the cool version of Prison Break: The Conspiracy where a prisoner walks out from the front door with daring impunity rather than bolting down cops and bouncing in and out of barbed wires on wall.
After walking out like a boss, they hired an autorickshaw and approached ISBT Kashmere Gate only to tell the Tihar security personnels “Boys, you’re a pathetic piece of shit.”
“A Sardar visits jail.” STFU, it ain’t a fukin joke.
A member of Babbar Khalsa International (BKI) and an ardent activist of Khalistan Movement, Jagtar Singh Hawara is one of the key schemers in the assassination of Beant Singh, Chief Minister of Punjab, on August 31, 1995. Right after his arrest in 1998, Hawara was imprisoned in the Burail Jail of Chandigarh where he did something ballsier than Andy Dufresne of The Shawshank Redemption.
Thing is, he failed to get credits like Andy because Morgan Freeman’s voice was missing from the background.
Son, do I look like Kofi Annan or Nelson Mandela?
Hawara stars in Bad Luck Brian:
Earlier, Hawara had made attempts to flee from the Burail jail by digging tunnels. His first attempt was digging a 35-ft deep tunnel in the kitchen of barrack number seven but luck was on vacation and Hawara got the middle finger in return. While staying at the Gurudwara barrack, Hawara attempted twice to make his way out. The first tunnel, which was 10-ft deep, brought the same bad fortune and caved in. The second tunnel in the same barrack was about to bestow a ray of hope but he was shifted to a special cell ‘Bis Chakki’ following a fight with Dalbir Singh, the then Deputy Jail Superintendent.
‘Burail Four’ as an Indian counterpart of ‘Texas Seven’:
Hawara didn’t give a shit and continued.
He teamed up with 3 other prisoners: Jagtar Singh Tara, Paramjit Singh Bheora and Devi Singh. Tara and Bheora were also involved in the assassination of Beant Singh whereas Devi Singh was imprisoned in a separate case and was serving as a cook.
Despite batshit luck, Hawara and others continued digging with sweaty testicles. In their final attempt, the ‘Burail Four’ dug 8-ft deep and 108-ft long tunnel which breached two security walls and opened at a life-threatening point which was 20 meters from the outer perimeter wall and 10 meters from the nearest watch tower. In the wee hours of January 21, 2004, Hawara and fellow prisoners crawled the tunnel and scaled the 12-ft high outer wall, before vanishing into the darkness. Couple of ballpoints away from the security guards, they managed to escape while laughing their asses off.
Criminals of Bihar, usually, don’t give a fuck about how cool they are. Think about it. They might appear polite and pacifist at one instance, but within a moment they could rip your eyes out through your asshole.
Are they gone?
Now imagine these types of horrific criminals lodged in a jail. Do you think that dick-sized iron bars could ever stop these goons with iron balls? NO, is my call, because such criminals have balloons. Hot-air gigantic balloons hanging right beneath their pricks.
These criminals do not need problem-solving skills or wrestling against security guards with few of their comrades. Making their way out of prison and outwitting guards is child’s play for them which could be done with only a slow motion of hand. Seems funny, eh? Well check it out here:
Way back in 2002, when only Lalu’s Rabri used to be the most favoured dish of media in Bihar, Bettiah suddenly popped into the mainstream. The unpopular headquarter of West Champaran, which had a slight recognition for being the hometown of Manoj Bajpai and Prakash Jha, was in news for a sensational prison break case.
On August 12, around 3 AM, 8 hardcore criminals lodged in different cases, walked away easily to escape boredom of the ‘big house’.
Charged with murder, rape, abduction and other horrific cases, these prisoners sawed off the iron rod of ward no. 8 to create an escapable gap of nearly one feet. They managed the jailbreak with two supportive factors:
A) Laziness of guards
B) Slew of grease
The toothed edge of iron filer was dipped in grease to mute the sawing operation. After couple of minutes, the tongueless filer did everything with its tooth and allowed prisoners to beat their way out.
After coming out from the jail bars, they scaled the 8-ft high inner boundary and subsequently scaled the 14-ft high outer wall by making a human ladder. They also made a rope using towel, dhoti and shawl to pull out all escapees. One inmate, Mohan Shah, was unable to scale the outer wall and was later captured by the jail authorities.
The stranded prisoner was somehow the Bihari counterpart of Louis Dega whereas others were seemingly inspired by Papillon. Seems he needed motivation, not manipulation.
Duh, I can’t make it.
If you’ve heard of the legendary magician Harry Houdini, it plausibly has something to do with his insanely quick acts of escaping from handcuffs.
Badass by default.
We must salute the goddamn magician for his heroic bullshits but also remember that illusion was his business.
The criteria of Houdini-like escape act, however, doesn’t really fit in the real world until the arrival of Charles Sobhraj who, with his badassitude, escaped from prison several times before high-fiving security guards.
A hippie criminal:
Born to an unwed Vietnamese mother, Charles Sobhraj had deception in his DNA, which helped him accumulating wealth by fooling everyone in his way. Though he started his career with petty crimes, he later turned into a vicious killer stamping out at least 12 poor souls mostly from India, Nepal and Thailand. Sobhraj’s cunning tactics was to befriend his targets and help them in adverse conditions which were in fact conjured by him. Once after winning their loyalty, he used to defraud them with his sheer ingenuity. Whenever he was caught, he managed to escape off the face of earth using his terribly-smart mind.
Holds a Ph.D in ‘Fuck Everyone’.
Fond of womanizing and opulent lifestyle, the “Bikini Killer” (as he is known popularly) was once again caught in New Delhi on July 5, 1976, for thieving passports of 60 French tourists after drugging them in a party. He was sent to Tihar.
I don’t give a flying fuck to the Government laws, baby:
The Indian Extradition Act of 1962 says that a convict can’t be deported until he/she has served the punishment in India. And according to Thai law, if a criminal is not brought to trial within 20 fucking years, then charges against him/her are automatically dropped because till then everything becomes an irrelevant bullshit. By the time, he had managed to fool Thai law enforcement agencies for 18 years and needed 2 more years for the complete shutdown of cases against him. In 1986, Sobhraj had nearly finished his jail term after which he was scheduled to be extradited to Thailand. He knew that once after landing in Thailand he’ll be surely executed for crimes he had committed in past.
Crossing the limits of bastardification:
He decided to extend his stay in Tihar by committing a new crime. His latest plan was to commit another prison break only to get caught up once again.
He lured a young Briton David Hall to collaborate with him. A vet by profession, Hall was imprisoned in Tihar for smuggling 1.5 kg hashish back to his country. On March 16, 1986, Hall came up with stack of fruits and sweets to distribute among guards. It was Sobhraj’s birthday party (Wikipedia says he was born on April 6). Everyone out there ate without knowing that the food was doctored with Larpose, a sleeping drug. The medicine was powdered and injected in the food. Few moments later, 6 guards were sleeping at gate no. 3 of Tihar like an octogenarian’s dick, and Sobhraj was enjoying the thrill of Delhi-Rajasthan highway.
Two weeks later, he got himself caught from a restaurant in Goa only for an extended jail term. For the latest escape case, his lawyer Debashish Majumdar queued up 107 witnesses in his defence ensuring that testifying each and every individual will take more than two years.
And yeah, Hall was also arrested. A rare breed in the society of assholes, he was fooled by Sobhraj.
I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.
I know you guys are aware of this quote of Italian Godfather, and if not, then you’ve to “sleep with the fishes.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
In the history of history, Natwarlal is quoted as one of the boundlessly charming badass swindlers whose ingenious words have oftentimes duped morons.
Born as Mithilesh Kumar Srivastava in the Siwan district of Bihar, Natwarlal was fond of conning people from his childhood. To hone his skills further, he became a lawyer. You know, law is the sexiest job for crazy-minded folks who believe in earning more than Al Capone, without using firearms.
During the peak of his career, he was wanted by the police of 8 states in 100 different cases. Some of the noteworthy feats in his journey are to sell away Taj Mahal, Rashtrapati Bhavan and Red Fort to jerky-rich foreigners. But the case which cemented his stature as a genius conman deals with selling the Parliament House of India along with its members. This act of glorious badassery was a salute to Victor Lustig, a legendary con artist who sold the Eiffel Tower way back in 1925.
Oftentimes Natwarlal’s ass was thrown behind the bars but he had a knack for prison break. At the age of 84, whilst lodged in a jail in Kanpur, the king con decided to swim in the ocean of freedom. But he was too fucking old and seemingly uninterested to dig tunnels and crawl through sewerage where shit flows rampantly.
He obligingly asked jail authorities for medical treatment after appearing sick. Looking at his age, jail officials thought the old-timer could back-flip any moment, if deprived of medics. He was promptly rushed to the hospital where, ironically, doctors referred him to AIIMS for nursing him back to health which tuned into a golden opportunity to escape custody.
And he did it. Again.
Whaaaaaaat? But howwww?
On the New Delhi railway station, two constables of UP Police who had brought him from Kanpur, called up a sweeper to look after him. Cops went away for a couple of minutes to deposit the wheelchair of the frail and dying conman. Meanwhile, Natwarlal seized the moment and asked the sweeper for a cup of tea only to dupe the latter one. He slipped away from the spot and vanished into the crowd like a fart in the wind.
Sir of Sirs, Natwarlal, once, counterfeited the signature of Dr. Rajendra Prasad in his presence. In a damn smooth way, he signed five times within couple of seconds, leaving India’s first president flabbergasted. Dr. Prasad, who belonged to the neighbouring village of Natwarlal, once offered him a job and also told him to stop his crafty bravados. Natwarlal, knowing the size of his balls, simply responded: “Give me a chance and I’ll not only curb the long drawn out menace of foreign debts on Indian Government, but will make others our debtor.”