I used to be a happy woman, without actually being a stupid person. I was a small town child, a city life teenager, and a metro woman. I have gained my freedom step-by-step with age, with education and also with the places I was lucky to be at during these different phases. My curfew hours used to be 5 at the town of Lakhimpur, 7 in Gauhati, and 10 in Delhi. As a working woman, I gave myself some more freedom, occasionally stretching my curfew till 11.30 or so. Every time I would come back home late at night, I would be amazed at this person I have become, this independent person who can move about all alone, who has money to spend, friends to love, a supportive family, and the confidence to be her own person. I was brought up to be self-dependent, but along the way, literature and earning my own keep, made me so fiercely individualistic that I would not tolerate any discrimination or suggestion of one, be it some friend (male/female) carrying my luggage or dropping me home because it was late. Well, I still am charmed when someone opens the door for me, but my appreciation of chivalry is limited to that. Thank you very much!
And then THE rape happened. You see, I have already maintained that I am not a stupid woman. I know rapes happen; I know rapes happen in Delhi, I know I have as good a chance of getting raped as any other woman in Delhi. But the reason this jolted me was because of the senseless violence. Rape is painful. I can’t write more about it. I was a victim of child abuse and it took me almost 20 years to get over it. I still am not sure if my mistrust of the opposite sex is because of the concept of cheating boy-friends or because I still have in my mind the person who violated my childhood. But the Munirka rape has stopped me on my track again. I don’t know how many years it would take me to get over this; this ripping pain in my lower abdomen, this choking feeling in my throat, this heaviness in my chest, that I feel every time I am reminded of it.
And now the government will be taking measures to protect me; this body of people who cannot see how people are dying every day under AFSPA. The very same body who is so scared of western influence, that they would much rather be happy fighting over gods than occupy themselves with unimportant stuff like rape or carnage. Am I wrong to be frightened? If they have their way, I know, my life as I know it is over. I know that three years from now there will be a man-eater roaming around in the streets of Delhi. But I won’t be able to protect myself from him because I won’t even know what he looks like. I won’t know if he’s the guy who’s delivering my gas cylinder or if he’s the one taking me home alone at midnight in his auto. I won’t know because he is a mere child who commits unnameable acts of cruelty as means of having fun!
Why can’t we have some conclusive tests to find out his age? If we don’t have the necessary technology, why can’t we borrow it from others? The missiles of our DRDO displayed on the republic day parade won’t save us from this monster. Why can’t they invest a little of their time, effort and sense to realise this? As to school certificates, I can verily say that they mean zilch. My cousins from villages who are older than me by 3-4 years are a year or so younger than me in their certificates. Not because they think it’s fashionable to be young but because, well, because that was the year their teacher decided to put in everyone’s certificates uniformly.
I am not asking to lower the juvenile age because I know that to commit a crime, age is not a factor. I know of this kid in my home town who is nine and has already raped two kids and who has not even been sent to juvenile custody. I am just saying that these kids need to be better monitored; for their own good as well as the security of the society. And as to this monster, I pray each day that he be proved to be more than 18. But if he’s not, I pray that my government grows some brain within the next three years.
No comments:
Post a Comment