CHENNAI: What’s your name? Prakasam. Where are you from? Tamil Nadu. Which place? Silence… Which place? Bombay. Who are your parents? Silence.. A name. A State. Silence. That was all the man could offer.
The exchange between volunteers from Apna Farz Seva Society and the man took place on July 16, 2022, in Jasraur village in Punjab’s Amritsar, located 10 kms from India-Pakistan border. The man had just been rescued from a 15-year bonded labour captivity at a buffalo farm.
Standing before them was a frail man in worn clothes, with dirt looking like it caked onto his body. Nearby stood an iron cot with a damp blanket, where, according to the team, he had been sleeping alongside the cattle for years. An iron chain was used to restrain him at night. “For the first six months, he talked very little,” recalled Satpal Singh, Chief Sevadar of Apna Farz Seva Society. “We got him treated at the Government Medical College in Patiala for over six months. After that, his mind gradually cleared, and then he started talking.”
Over the next four years, those fragments slowly turned into names, memories and places, drawing a retired Haryana Assembly Secretary, a journalist, district officials & volunteers across two States and, ultimately, a mother from Coimbatore who had spent more than two decades searching for the son she lost in 2003. It all started near Saibaba Colony in Coimbatore, when Prakasam, the 16-year-old boy, left home after a quarrel with his younger brother. He never knew how costly that mistake was. Despite counselling and three years of care by the NGO, Prakasam was still not able to communicate. Even today, he cannot explain how he travelled over 2,500 km from Tamil Nadu to a village barely 10 km from the India-Pakistan border.
For nearly 15 years, the buffalo farm in Jasraur village was the only world Prakasam knew. His captivity was largely reconstructed through the rescuers’ accounts and a video in which he demonstrated the routine that almost broke him.
From the time he woke until nightfall, he cleaned cattle sheds, collected dung and attended to nearly two dozen cattle amid heaps of dung. Another worker on the farm received wages; Prakasam did not. When daylight faded, farm owner Sukhdev Singh chained him to an iron cot where he slept regardless of weather, his blanket soaked from rain and dirt, with neither proper bathing nor food. “The buffaloes appeared cleaner than the man who cared for them,” the rescuer said.
For years, Prakasam remained invisible in Jasraur, until a short video of a frail man being tied circulated locally in 2022, leading the Apna Farz Seva Society to him.
After the rescue, the organisation housed Prakasam while trying to establish his identity, an effort that stretched over nearly three years. “We tried various means to get in touch with his family. But he was mentally broken. He came here as a teenager. Imagine being chained for 15 years with no one to talk to,” a volunteer described. It was only after months of treatment, it said, that his memory gradually improved.
Subhash Sharma, a retired Haryana Assembly Secretary who volunteers to reunite destitute persons with their families, visits the Apna Farz Seva Society’s shelter in Patiala. He first met Prakasam in early 2023. “He had only four words with him. Tamil Nadu, Bombay & Alagamar & Suganti, whom he identified as his father and sister,” Subhash recalled, adding that even the names were inconsistent. He met Prakasam frequently. During one such visit in 2024, Sharma heard two new clues -- “Coimbatore”, “door number 25.”
Drawing on contacts he had built during his years in the Assembly, he reached out to Balakrishna, an acquaintance in the Tamil Nadu Secretariat, who, in turn, introduced him to his brother, journalist Muthaiah. Whenever Sharma visited the shelter, Muthaiah would join over an audio call and speak to Prakasam in Tamil. The hope was that he might respond more naturally in his mother tongue. The breakthrough finally came in May 2026. This time, Prakasam uttered “Aruppukottai.”
As Prakasam’s memories slowly became clearer, the names changed too. The father, once remembered only as “Alagmar”, became Ramamoorthy. His mother’s name emerged as Sundari. He also began recalling his brother’s name, Prabhu. Using the details, Muthaiah travelled to the locality, met one of his cousins and learnt the family was no longer living in their native village, but had shifted to Coimbatore. The trail, which had stretched across two States for nearly three years, had finally led to Neelambur in Coimbatore, where Sundari, along with Prabhu, were
We tried various means to get in touch with his family. But Prakasam was mentally broken. He came here as a teenager. Imagine being chained for 15 years with no one to talk to gazing at the cattle.
When Muthaiah reached the house and asked Sundari if she had once lost a son named Prakasam, “Yes,” she replied. “I searched for him everywhere,” Sundari recalled. “He once tried to communicate with us from Chennai and never called back again. I lost hope,” she added.
After 20 years, mother and son saw each other for the first time through a video call. Sundari recognised him instantly. So did Prakasam. “I couldn’t describe that moment,” Sundari said. “I told him, ‘I will come, Prakasa’.”
Before Prakasam could leave shelter, officials had to conclusively establish that he was Sundari’s son. After the Coimbatore district administration verified his identity, Collector Pavankumar G wrote to the Patiala Deputy Commissioner, requesting the district administration, police and social welfare authorities to facilitate his safe handover from the custody of Apna Farz Seva Society to his biological family.
The Collector also sought initiation of proceedings under the Bonded Labour Rehabilitation Scheme and requested that Prakasam be extended rehabilitation benefits, including a release certificate, rehabilitation assistance and social security support. A three-member team comprising Sundari, Muthaiah and neighbour-cum-translator Sundaralingam then travelled to Patiala. Sundari and Prakasam are returning to Tamil Nadu on Thursday, bringing a closure to a journey that began with a teen leaving home over two decades ago.
The years in captivity have left deep scars. Asked if he believed his mother would ever find him, Prakasam replied, “I believed she would come to call me.” Sundari is still trying to understand what her son had gone through. “He now tells me, ‘I will never leave home without telling you, Amma’,” Sundari said.