When a girl of 6 gets brutally raped and beaten and hangs herself, her parents would like to bury themselves under “no comment.”
When a husband beats his wife, comes home drunk or rapes her, she’d like to look at her best friend or inquisitive neighbour and hide under “no comment.”
When a politician makes comments about how women are responsible for almost urging men to rape them, those in power who have the power to ex-communicate such people, look a reporter in the eye and a mic thrust under their noses and conveniently say “no comment.”
When right thinking people ask a motorbike rider why he’s riding on the wrong side of the road, he looks nonchalantly at you, waves his arm like you’re the one who’s guilty and you can shake your head ruefully in disgust and shrug your shoulders in defeat and “no comment.”
When a daughter looks at her bruised mother and questions the wisdom of being trapped in a loveless, respect-less, fulfillment-less marriage, a mother can only look at her daughter with grief-stricken tearful eyes that cry “no comment.”
When people, women, innocent children and men are slaughtered every single day of every month of every year for simply being born, you look away from gory TV screens and your heart jumps in your throat as you want to cry out at the inhumanity and the insanity and the insensitivity of it all but all you can get is “no comment.”
When corporations blinded by the megalomaniacal aspirations of power, commit crimes on the rest of us in the smallest and most insidious of ways, you wonder why is everyone heartily singing “no comment.”
When your freedom of expression is muffled, and those in power, flesh and blood human beings like you and I, whom we democratically elected, try desperately to gag your freedom to choose, think, speak, act, express, you don’t know whom to turn to, because everyone is wearing a label of “no comment.”
When your heart is broken, because you just discovered that he’s had a roaring affair and the other is now going to bear his child, your heart lets out a silent scream,”bastard” but what you hear is “no comment.”
When those rich, super-rich, super super super rich who are regularly featured in the Forbes 100, Forbes 500 and other such lists keep agglomerating their wealth and gloat about it, and you think, but couldn’t they do something more than merely making money, all you get is the sound of your own smirk, “no comment.”
When that man with a different sexual orientation is heckled and hooted at because he’s expressed his love for another man, you look at the eyes of those who are intellectually eloquent at other times, but magically lose their voice when it’s needed most, and all you get is a vacuous “no comment.”
When you see your child’s young, innocent body, ravaged by something incurable, you turn to modern medicine, doctors, surgeons, faith healers, alternative medicine, with hope and a prayer, but all you get is a resigned “no comment.”
There’s this whole debate going on since the past 2 days about a documentary made by an English documaker Leslee Udwin, on one of the goriest rape cases the world has ever known. The girl died after a battle. Her rapists are today, in jail. There were protests then unlike any this silent, hypocritical, dirty, creepy, supposedly soulful, vibrant, culturally rich, noisy, ostentatious, depraved, morally bankrupt society of ours had ever seen. Reams written, more spoken. Not much has changed since. This documaker interviewed the rapist. And also revealed the identity of the raped and murdered girl. With the written permission of her parents. The documaker allegedly followed the protocol to the T, with letters of permission from the jail authorities, the Home Ministry et al. The rapist allegedly revealed in the film, how he thought that the girl deserved to be raped. After all, she was travelling at night and with a man. And more to that effect.
The debate? How can you air this documentary? The reasons against:
a) it will show India in a poor light and affect tourism (no one, but no one except a wily politician could have thought of this completely laughable excuse)
b) it is contravention of the Indian Constitution article 288 A which states that the victim’s identity shouldn’t be revealed (or whatever that article # is)
c) would BBC have made a documentary about the ISIS beheading one of their own journos and recorded the excruciating details of the beheading and then aired it on their own channel or on other channels?
d) it’s a hidden agenda against the death penalty as it shows the interviewed rapist in a more, what’s the word, in a more sympathetic light.
e) it’s about ethics, about decency, about this and that and all that baloney
Think for a moment.
If the young deceased girl who was mutilated, savaged and brutalised was, by some sliver of a chance alive today, would she have not wanted to hear what and how these rapists thought?
Wouldn’t she want to drive a knife in the hearts and minds of people who defend the right to ban a documentary, but don’t defend a woman’s screams for help?
Wouldn’t she have wanted to rage and rave and rant against those who, are supposedly defending her dignity(even though she is no more) by wanting to ban a film which shows how depraved and disgusting the men in our society are?
Wouldn’t this young girl have got some semblance of normality when there’d be an awakening of the real danger to Indian women, through her story? Where every woman and man (if that’s possible) hung their head in shame?
Wouldn’t this young girl who is now one with the Earth, be proud to tell the world that she fought and fought like a tigress against not just the physical presence of these sub-human creatures as they were tearing into her, but she fought against that very mindset that thought this was how women should be treated?
Wouldn’t this young brave woman have wanted to bring attention to the malaise affecting Indian society? To reveal the denial that we live in – that women are (not) Goddesses and (not) worshiped – and the men are Gods in whose service we must eternally resign ourselves to?
Egos are fragile in our society. The unwillingness and the sheer insecurity of the Indian male to look a woman in the eye and say “Sorry, I treat you bad, I treat you like the shit that’s stuck on the soles of my shoes, I burn you, I beat you, I hang you, I treat you like the sewer that runs beneath my toilet, yet I also need you to spread your legs and accept my yoni and delight in it, whenever, wherever, how much ever I want, because fuck you, I’m the Indian male”, is audacious in its depravity and pathetic in its outlook.
Of course, we must remember that the men are the way they are because they’ve been suckled and nurtured by the very woman who allows him to believe that he’s superman and can actually get away with wearing his underwear outside his pants and everyone will gape with wonder and anoint him God. And guess what? Everyone does gape and he does get away. And all a woman does is gloat, “look, look, my glorious son”.
It’s all very well to point the finger that way, but if only we as life-givers could realise that our responsibility doesn’t end with giving birth. It’s the delivery of the human being that’ll ultimately define us, the woman.
So should the documentary be banned? What say you? “No comment?”
Should we as women, take a large part of the blame for instilling in our male children ideas that eventually come to bite us in the vagina? “No comment.”
Should men stop feeling so wretched about themselves and show a lot more spunk about standing up for who they are and not crouch behind dictatorial penises that lets all hell break loose? “No comment.”
Can we live with men or without men?
Can we live with women or without women?
Can we hope for Life to be fair and just?
Can we hope to be tread as equals?