Last night I watched a documentary – India’s Daughter – a moving piece of art on the Delhi gangrape case of December 2012.
And I cried.
Not the typical ‘bawling-my-eyes-out’ kind of cry, but rather a cry that roots from a broken heart.
Yes, certainly my heart was breaking. I was hurt, anguished and maddened beyond comprehension, even it was for a moment. I truly was.
They say that eyes are the true window to one’s heart; that eyes don’t lie. If it were any true, then what I saw in the eyes of the convicts was no less than the crime they committed. It was horrendous to be said the least. The man (driver of the bus) had no guilt. Yes, certainly he gulped down his own spit when he was rushing through the description of his act, but his opening statement was, what I am quite certain some of our country’s horrible minds would agree to, discreetly if not openly.
“Kya zarurat thi itni raat ko ek ladke ke saath ghumne ki?”
And his lawyer seem to agree to it most affirmatively. We all have seen the man’s audacity of how dignity of a woman in our society are compared on the lines of a ‘delicate flower’ and how proudly our society does not have a place for her. The lawyers, protectors and projectors of justice in our country, considered to be one of the highest educated people in our society seed such oppressive mentality. Then how Jyoti’s parents, much less qualified in education than the said lawyer duo, have the humanity and sensibility to support their daughter’s educational aspirations and foster such a liberal notion that a woman is a much allowed to enjoy her freedom in a democratic country as a man?
In the documentary, they mentioned how they made it possible for Jyoti to become a doctor, by going against their family and selling off their ancestral land to pay for college. They allowed their daughter to watch an evening show with her male friend, because they understood her need and her right to exercise freedom.
Then what makes these lawyers question her character and actually, like seriously compare a woman’s character to that of a fallen flower. WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?
What makes a bunch of educated and opinionated lawyers behave like twats, and parents that are comparatively less educated, actually wise? It is the basic understanding of morality.
I have heard and experienced situations where mothers protect their sons’ inhumanity by saying, “ladka hai, garam khoon hai, haath uth gaya, ho jaata hai”. That’s where the fault lies. Adding to the thought, the convicts had a similar take on their actions; actions like thrusting a rod inside her and pulling out her intestines. The driver said something on the lines of “chup chap rape hone deti to chhod dete. Jhapatne lagi to gussa aa gaya”.
When the literate minds of our society, women of our country, mothers around the world, or family members of the convicts defend their child’s, husband’s or fellow citizen’s act of crime, no matter how trivial or heinous it is, it gives the crime and the criminal a certain approval, and when that perpetuates towards a large, dominant group of community, it encourages a regressive, oppressive and derogatory thought process and mindset.
When you protect someone from punishment or reproach for a wrongdoing, you embolden them to take bigger strides towards immorality and justify it too, until they have gone too far to save.
While watching the documentary, I was going through a commotion of emotions, but when it ended, I was left with only one: hurt. A deep cutting hurt. A hurt that not just welled eyes, but impressions of which burns in the soul. The most difficult part was to watch the helplessness in her parents’ eyes.
Is there a mother in this world who can ever come in terms with the fact that her daughter suffered such brutality and ultimately succumbed to it? Can a father ever accept that he won’t be discussing a minute more of the rest of his life with his daughter?
That helplessness was too painful to watch and suddenly I felt so small, so insignificant, so helpless.
What do I do? How can I lessen their pain? Is there anything in this world that can?
Bearing all these questions, I send them all the strength and courage from the deepest corners of my heart, to be proud of a brave human being. Amen.