Jagdish Prasad Sharma's day begins with a prayer and a large breakfast washed down with a glass of warm milk. He cleans his truck till it gleams and drives off to work at a stone quarry, returning by 7pm to his favorite TV show and a little quiet time with his wife.
Sharma's life may seem ordinary but it's remarkable because he lives in a prison where he is serving the last of a 14-year sentence for murder.
Nondescript Sanganer town -- about 25km from Jaipur, the capital of the northwestern state of Rajasthan -- is famous for its block-printed fabrics and a unique open jail where life convicts stay with their families.
The handmade Sanganeri print is now a dying art, replaced by sophisticated machines that churn out hundreds of meters of fabric every day, but the prison is a vibrant, thriving community.
The Rajasthan government started the Sri Sampoornanand Khula Bandi Shivir as an experiment in 1963. Till the 1980s, prisoners were taken out of Jaipur jail and allowed to farm during the day. A decade later the government made it compulsory for convicts to live there with their families, as an important step towards their rehabilitation.
Sanganer was such a success that a committee on prison reforms recommended that it be replicated in other states, as it prepares convicts for a life outside, instils a sense of responsibility, reduces overcrowding in jails and costs far less for the state.
The open prison currently has 124 convicts, including 10 women, all of whom have been convicted for murder and are serving life terms -- ranging from 14 to 20 years.
It isn't easy to get to Sanganer: the convict must have served at least one-third of his life sentence, demonstrated good behavior and file an application saying he will live there with his family. The screening committee does not consider habitual offenders or those convicted for offences against the state, rape and robbery.
The Sanganer jail spreads across 4 hectares dotted with orderly rows of about 150 cement houses, tin sheds and thatched cottages. Some have white picket fences, potted plants and a motorcycle parked outside. Others are nothing more than rickety aluminium sheets tied together with a frayed rope.
A majority of the homes have been built by the prisoners, who also pay for electricity and water. Their children attend nearby schools. At least one-third own television sets. Many have cows and sell milk in the local market.
There are few restrictions on the convicts, who can dress as they like. Guests can stay over. The camp has two sleepy guards and a low boundary wall. "It's a relationship of trust, but it's also very disciplined," said police constable Bajrang Lal Meena.
After the 6am roll call the prisoners can work outside within a 10km radius from the camp. Most have found employment as drivers, tailors, vegetable vendors or security guards. More importantly, they have found acceptance from the local community. They must return by 7pm for the evening roll call, after which they are not allowed to leave the camp.
Jagdish Prasad Sharma, who is also elected head of the Sanganer prison community, said the camp has taught him responsibility.
"I killed someone in the heat of the moment over a land dispute in my village. In Sanganer, I started to live a normal life, to take responsibility for my family," Sharma said. "I pay taxes and have a lot of respect in the community. No one calls me a prisoner."



