So Long, India – The Patriarchy, Assault, and Women.
As I put my pen to paper, India’s national anthem is playing in my background. It’s 15th August, 2024. We are celebrating our 77th Independence. 78th I think.
And somewhere (everywhere), there is a protest going on.
Dr. Moumita Debnath. The body of the 31-year-old trainee doctor was found inside the RG Kar Medical College and Hospital in Kolkata on Friday. Dead. Raped. Murdered. Maybe gang raped. Her autopsy says she was raped before being brutally killed. The details are horrifying. So horrific that it makes me want to kill myself out of helplessness.
A rape is reported every 21 minutes.
Even these most horrific of crimes soon get forgotten. But not by the victims and their families. A course of an hour changes decades of a person’s and a family’s life. An unfair and a lonely battle is fought by them for justice which, more often than not, is denied to them. But every once in a while, an incident happens which ignites a spark.
This is one such incident. But this isn’t the first time a doctor was wronged at her workplace.
Let’s go back to early 1970s
Aruna Shanbaug, 25, a nurse, Mumbai, 1973. 51 years ago. She was sodomized by a cleaner in the hospital where she worked. Do you know what sodomy means? I didn’t. I had to google. Sodomy refers to anal or oral intercourse. She was sodomized by a cleaner at her workplace when she was 25 years old. I am 26 years old as I write this.
Sohanlal Bharta Walmiki. He was the rapist. He did this to Aruna. He was not even charged for raping her. It gets worse. Walmiki was given a 7-year-sentence for robbery and attempted murder.
ROBBERY OF WHAT? Robbery of life? Robbery of that girl’s ability to speak? Robbery of her consent? After serving his 7 years, he lived as a free man. This is back in 1973.
Does the protest lead to any good?
Are we dogs barking at elephants?
A year before this incident. 1972. Mathura, a 16-year-old tribal girl, was raped by two policemen inside a police station. 25 years old Independent India. There was a protest. A big one. People came on streets demanding justice. Demanding better laws.
It took 11 years after this protest, for the government to amend anti-rape law in 1983. A provision was accommodated that if a victim says that she did not consent to sex, the court will believe her.
I see this amendment as a MOCKERY.
But this is the only win I see in the pages of Indian history.
Good morning?
On most days, Indian newspapers or phone notification rings new atrocities. 3 years old raped by 17 years old boy. 18-month-old raped and abandoned on the streets in Calcutta. A husband arranging his own wife’s gang rape somewhere in Howrah. A 65-year-old grandmother raped in Kharagpur. A 14-year-old raped and murdered in a police station in Uttar Pradesh.
There is no end. I will die one day but this won’t. How desperate I am for the world to prove me wrong.
How long, India?
Over 200 years. 20 decades! This is how long India fought for its freedom. Something that was already ours but was taken away by the British. It took over 20 decades to claim what was ours back.
Women’s plight ages older than 200 years. All these times, we are able to win freedom but nothing against brutality towards one sex? Is it because those in power don’t want to fire a torch here? Ofcourse those in power are men. We live in a patriarchy world.
The law needs amendments. Patriarchy needs to end. Society needs to change.
The patriarchal bias will continue to stereotyping women, blaming the victim, trying to find out if she invited the rape. They are the decision makers. More women need to be in power. I know the one in power in Bengal has her own hands dirty. But I am emphasizing on ‘more’ here. Not one. More women need to be in power. Credible ones.
Politics anyways is a dirty game. Add patriarchy in here and you know what results out of this equation. You know because you live in this very equation today.
We cry. We plead. We beg.
I know, it’s not just women. Men too are assaulted. Statistics say one in six men are sexually assaulted in their lifetime. But guess what? 6 out or 6 women are assaulted in their lifetime. I am not saying men’s pleas of cry don’t count. I am trying to bring focus on what is burning.
I am so tired and exhausted. We try to romanticize this world but the world has gone in gutters. This little life we live, we die everyday. The anger inside me makes me want to kill myself out of helplessness. How am I not able to do anything when I know what people in power must be doing? How are the wheels taking us nowhere? I cry. I plead. I beg.
We should start wearing a suicide ring. Any moment we find ourselves within the grip of such pests, helpless, eat the ring. Die.
As much as I wish to look at the bigger, brighter picture of my country. I fail. The infra in metro cities is a disaster, the management is horrible, governance has left the chat. Zero accountability. We tolerate, and we live another day on borrowed time.
So long, India. So long.
What good is this blog post going to do anyway?
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