Women’s Day: What are we Celebrating?

What’s there to celebrate?

The women stopped being girls long ago. Now, it’s babies and infants. The men used to talk, and be told, shite about how all women are like their sisters and mothers and daughters. Now they rape their own kids. Or, maybe they always did. Maybe we are that pathetic and depraved. What kind of thought process, what levels of desperation, what kind of an urge makes a group of men pick up a sleeping rag-picker’s baby and decide to rape her? Like beasts in a pack, they legitimize each other’s depraved acts, feeding on the feeling of belonging to the ‘winning side’ for once, because otherwise they are only losing, losing, losing. It isn’t just insecurity, it’s a pathetic shallow envy and gutless, cowardly rage. It surely isn’t about establishing superiority. What superiority does a 24 year old male have to establish over a 3 year old infant? What kind of man rapes his own infant daughter? Or, maybe that’s how impotent we have made our poorest. That they have only enough faith in the system to know that their brutality will probably go unpunished.

And, all in all, men continue to excuse other men because, somewhere, every man has been rejected. And, every man likes to believe that if he had been able to fuck her, she would have liked it. The autonomy of women scares those without power, because the class of people who were at least always below them is moving up and away. The autonomy of women scares those with Power, because we have a population problem, and every resource given to someone marginalized means a resource less for the just-as-grimy hands already pushed up against the gate.

Fix this. Fix this now, India. It’s bad and pathetic enough that it is happening. It’s worse that the Nation doesn’t care. Sooner or later, it’s going to be you or someone you know. Don’t wait for that.

End this shame.
For, there is nothing else left to feel.

Happy Women’s day to everyone in this country who didn’t get raped today. Perhaps that is what we should be celebrating. Perhaps that is what it has come to.

3 year old rag picker’s baby:http://news.oneindia.in/2013/03/07/kerela-3-year-old-gangraped-1165832.html#cmntTop

4 year old daughter: http://ibnlive.in.com/news/bhopal-man-allegedly-rapes-4yearold-daughter-arrested/377363-3-236.html

An apathetic misogynist system: http://ibnlive.in.com/news/a-year-on-dhaula-kuan-rape-survivor-says-the-trial-only-adds-to-her-trauma/377356-3-244.html

Medieval mentalities of the Police force:http://ibnlive.in.com/news/shame-in-khaki-indian-policemen-still-blame-women-for-sexual-violence/377298-3.html

Bewildered policemen (But, why won’t she just stop traveling at night?): http://ibnlive.in.com/news/delhi-bikers-allegedly-molest-woman-journalist-police-tell-her-not-to-travel-at-night/377358-3.html

23 year old who dared reject some creep:http://ibnlive.in.com/news/chennai-acid-attack-victim-dies/372418-62.html

Advertisements

Why being an Indian Woman is Really Annoying

Attention, Indian Women Rising: Self Defence can land you in Jail!

This is just so fucking pissing off. But, I can understand why. My suspicion is that this is all coz one in every 5 Indian men is a secret pervert, as empirical evidence shows. 1 in every 10 must be a groper. And one in every 100, a fantasy rapist. 1 in every 1000 probably molests his nieces. And, one in 10,000 gets drunk and can’t stop feeling people up. One in hundred thousand rapes minors he knows, so he can threaten/trick/cajole/kill them into silence. One in a million is an out-n-out raper. That’s one million rapists, surrounded by friends and families urging women to shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down, and take it. Take whatever society throws at your face, whether its pathetically desperate comments or the repulsive need to touch a woman (because no woman in her right mind would voluntarily touch them).

This is why the khap panchayats are kinda correct when they say that it’s the raising of the marriageable age that creates problems. That’s because the Indian society is used to finding and buying girls for their sons to rape. Because Indian society is used to selling its daughters into something even worse than prostitution. At least you get paid if you’re a whore. Not burned to death because your parents couldn’t buy your assaulter a shiny new car. Or his mother some more gold. Or some property for his father.

Like that a****** cop at the Metro who tried to snatch my pepper spray away. After being a lecherous little twerp himself. Fucking, one day you don’t dress in Black n White in this stupid city, and everybody wants to fuck with you. Well, I don’t need a pepper spray. I will claw out the eyes of any bastard who bothers me. Even if it kills me. I hope I can, when it is that moment. Coz, in this country, it isn’t an “if”, it is a “when”. It isn’t about hoping no one gets hurt, it’s all about hoping that that someone isn’t you. Grr. So much rage. This is like that 10 year imprisonment given to the chick who finally killed the guy who had been raping her for years, threatening her into silence. She finally lost it when he started bothering her sister.

Don’t stop, ladies. No one is going to hand you any rights on a plate. This is going to take screaming, kicking and punching. Stand your Ground!

As Morello says,

“Don’t let them tie you to the Stake,
Whatever it takes!”

Whatever it takes, perverts. You hear that? Whatever. It. Takes.

If you can’t control yourselves, crawl into a deep hole and die. Die, die, die! Gyah! When is our collective rage going to BURN the filth hiding in all echelons of our society? When?!

“It has to start somewhere,
It has to start sometime,
What better place than here?
What better time than now?!”

“Why Stand on a Silent Platform?
Fight the War, Fuck the Norm!”

Why belonging to Delhi should not be a Source of Pride

Note: It’s not like I loathe Delhi. Well, okay, I do sort of loathe Delhi, but the tone of this article, it’s only a rant. An angry rant that’s been bubbling inside me for years and years, after every 3 months that I spent in Delhi, annually. The City has its moments, I’m sure it does. But, when all of its people love it so very much, and express it so intensely, I can’t help but take the extreme opposite stance. I am the Devil’s advocate. Hypocritical, in that she only extremely pursues ideas she already believes in, but, give her an underdog in need of defending, and no one can ever go to more extreme or dramatic lengths. umm. It’s a flaw. So, anyway, no offence meant, Delhiites, except where it’s obvious. Yeah. You guys need to fix that.

I don’t like Delhi. It’s hostile and fake and the people who’ve lived there all their lives are so proud of the fact, it’s a mix of little-scary and very disgusting.

But, by all means, yay for the chaat and aalu parathas and all the monuments built a thousand years ago that smoke and pollution and people have determinedly destroyed! Love that culture, if you must, but let no one take pride in this city within a month of what happened.

If you all recall, the girl was lying, bleeding, on the side of the road for nearly two hours while people drove by, gawking and staring in that horrid way that people from that city believe they are automatically entitled to simply because they have eyes. The DELHI police refused to help her into the PCR van, and her injured naked friend had to do it instead, because the police didn’t want blood on their uniforms.

I mean, seriously, what is everyone from this city so proud of? The roads??

Well, I’m talking about the people! The undeniable truth! We’ve been to places all over this country! The kind of hostility that the Delhi gaze has, no other city in this nation compares. It isn’t about “a few rotten apples” or a “few stray incidents”. When we’re all being proud of things, isn’t it important to know just what we’re being so proud of? And, maybe we’re all being proud of the wrong things.

It’s a possibility, don’t you think? Just like the possibility that Delhi is actually a lovely, friendly, forgiving city that doesn’t worship clique mentalities and money and actually cares about each other on the street (to even a tiny amount over giving a fuck), and most importantly, is open to people who don’t fit in any of the ideas that the city has of the people who’re supposed to inhabit it. Or however the fuck that works. *shrugs* 

My point is, what I *loathe* about Delhi is just how proud people are for having lived in a territory for the longest time, about things that they have no control over. And how it changes everyone who *ever* lives there. It’s akin to being forced into a box, and if you resist, the City will cheerfully cut off whichever limb is in the way of fitting you in that box, and the people will cheer by the sidelines. That’s what I hate.

And, yes, I am not proud of India for the absence of the Rule of Law, I’m ashamed of how far the educated citizens of this state have allowed the Nation to fall as long as their immediate rights were protected, I’m disgusted by the kind of mentality that seems to be prevalent along the majority of its citizens. I’m horribly apologetic and deeply disturbed by the communal riots, and the State sanctioned anti-sikh riots of 1984. I’m saddened to think of the fact that while thousands died of hunger, food lay rotting in and around our godowns, bound by bureaucratic red-tape and feeding only rats. I’m offended by the reality of people from MY country pausing in the middle of slaughter to ask their victims what religion they belonged to. I’m ashamed of the way we treat our minorities, and the simultaneous pride we seem to take in our “diversity”.

But, I’m proud of the fact that we made a killer constitution that has actually held this fragmented sub-continent together! I’m proud of the leaders that sat together and conducted their constitutional debates wherein they laboriously went over every word, every concept, in order to ensure that their intentions could never be misunderstood! I’m proud of the fellow Indian who gave a jacket to the Tribal girl who was stripped naked and beaten up by other fellow citizens of ours, despite being turned on by the angry mob for doing so. I’m proud of every dead whistle-blower that our State could not protect, and I’m proud of the two authors who went ahead and read out portions of Salman Rushdie’s book despite fearing for their lives. I’m proud of the logic behind the colors on our flag, and the nice people of Delhi who give jackets to stray dogs on the Street in Winter. And, I’m proud to have access to first World opportunities despite living in a clearly third-world country. And, I’m proud of the changes my college, and people from my college (also Indians) are making in the World. I’m proud of the unrelenting activists, and the people fighting corruption, and all the outrage that this incident brought forth from the public.

But, until, as a people, we can feel ashamed of the things “our people” are capable of, things will never change. And, as long as we keep defending entire systems as a whole, on some level we’re legitimizing the wrong things that do happen. Especially when it comes to attitudes and mentalities.

I mean, be proud, na. Love it! Like it’s said, Everywhere you go, there’s lots to love and hate. But, the things that bother me about Delhi, they sicken and frighten me to my core. So, please understand if I can’t just sit down and swallow it when someone tells me how Delhi is a fabulous city, or how proud they are to belong from there.

Just voicing my polite dissent.

Requiescat in pace, my Sister from Delhi

Dear Sister,

Can I call you that? I’m afraid I never dared give you a name, not even a symbolic one. And Nirbhaya, Ragini, Damini, these are not your names. No, you had your own name, your own identity, and an entire lifetime that no one can take away from you. You laughed, and lived, and loved.

And you fought, suffered and were brutally murdered.

I wish I could say I was here to celebrate your life, but I know nothing about you. Why don’t I know your name? Why do we live in the kind of society where the victim of a crime has to be hidden for fear of social stigma? What social stigma? For being attacked? For surviving it? I wish I could say I hate them, sister, but I’m one of them too. And, through all these years, through all these crimes that we’ve been hearing about, we’ve kept quiet, and you paid the price in full.

So, no, I’m not here to celebrate anything. I’m here for the lifetime that they did take away from you, sister. The lifetime we let them take away from you in one single horrific hour. As an entire nation, as a society, we waited and we watched as our women were raped and brutalized, and we bought bigger locks and better alarm systems, and we told our friends and daughters and sisters and mothers to be careful. But, we never said a word against them.

And, now we’ve killed you…

How does it help you to know that we’re all distraught over your death? How does it help you to know that people will cry for you, are already doing so? How does it help you to know that I don’t even dare to sleep tonight because I’m afraid I’ll dream of you? For, I’m too ashamed to look you in the eye, Sister. I don’t know what I would say to you.

“All Indians are my brothers and sisters”, our school used to make us say, every single morning, come rain or shine or bomb squads. Children regularly fainted and threw up, and a lot of parents complained. Our school built a roof, put up some fans, but we never missed a day of the morning assembly. The Pledge and the National Anthem.

What good were those vows, sister? And, what would our founding fathers say about this absurd hatred that has pervaded Indian society? Because, in India at least, Rape is more of a hate crime than just an instance of gender violence. A large part of India is literally misogynistic, and the passion with which they hate women is just overwhelming. I have a theory on this; I believe that these men represent the part of India that has long been fed on films and movies where the hero “woos” the girl by following her around, stalking her and whistling at her on the streets. These men take these ideas and apply them in regular life, and seek to approach “modern” women in the same way, expecting to be positively acknowledged. When these women express fear or disgust, these men perceive that they have been rejected or rebuked, and start hating women with a passion, because they know that once women achieve sexual liberation as a nation, no woman in their right minds would marry the likes of them. And, here I blame arranged marriages, because if people were left to themselves, the idiots and the misogynists would be automatically weeded out.

But how does any of this matter to you now, Sister?

I want to live” I know you never said those words; you were raped and sodomized and beaten so badly that you couldn’t even speak.. But, in my mind, you are forever going to be saying those words to me, dearest sister.

And, I shall be forever failing you…

Six Men. Six men against one young girl. Our country should be ashamed for ourselves. That’s the culture we have? A culture of cowards? Because, believe me when I say this: I am not a feminist, I am an individualist, and that just makes me a whole lot more dangerous, and a whole lot more enraged. And there is nothing I loathe more than the cruelty of cowardice. It’s beyond despicable. A man raped a two year old baby, after tying her legs together, the day after they tortured you for an hour. She died two days ago.. Was she out at an inappropriate hour? Was she dressed in “immodest attire”? Was she behaving “inappropriately”? No. She wasn’t raped for any of the reasons they like to throw in our faces, sister. She was raped because we have a law and order problem. She was raped because our country is still stuck in a misogynistic mindset best represented by the son of the Indian President when he said that it is not protesting if women “go to discotheques at night and candle-light vigils in the day”. Mind you, sister, this is the idiot who also said that the women at the venue were too beautiful to be protesters, so we are terrified at the fact that these are the people who are our law-makers.

Our law-makers? No wonder nothing has changed. No wonder that infant was so brutally raped that she succumbed to her injuries a day after fighting for her barely-begun life. She is dead today, because our country is inept, apathetic and corrupt beyond comprehension. These are the same reasons why six drunk men felt confident enough in attacking you and your boyfriend in a bus, and then raping you as they beat him unconscious. Can we even imagine the agony of that moment? No. But, my mind won’t stop trying, sister, and it hurts so bad.

And, what about the love you have left behind? My heart bleeds for you, young Ser. And, I swear to you, I swear that I will never stop fighting. Never. I wish I knew her name so it could be the one I whisper before I ever do anything and everything in my power to destroy this rape-culture that we all helped bring into existence.

Because there is a rape culture here. One that is so pervasive, living a normal life has become impossible in this country if you are a woman. For all the men reading this, imagine what it would feel like if you were always at war, lets say with Pakistan, and that we lived on some border. Where some unidentified person can just come and pick you up and take you away if you don’t keep your eyes open wide enough, phone always in hand while walking in an empty locality, edging away from cars that slow down at footpaths. You guys, it’s become physically exhausting and intolerable. And, yes, you can empathize, and I’m so glad you do, because we need every single ally we can all get, but the fact remains that a lot of men don’t want to see women raped, yet half of them still talk in terms of protecting a lady’s modesty instead of giving her her rights.

Five years ago, my senior from college was viciously stabbed to death as he stood up against some miscreants who were harassing a fellow student. A few months back, my junior was raped. And, now they’ve killed you. Please forgive me if I leave it up to the good people of this country to make sure that the perpetrators, your assailants, get the “justice” you deserve. (The “justice” they deserve… I fear humanity cannot provide) I intend to make it my life’s goal that this Country becomes the kind of place where both men and women can walk out of their doors at any point of time, knowing that their constitutional right to life guarantees them the safety they deserve. The safety we deserve. The safety you deserved…

And, what is expected is not even idealistic. It is only realistic that the State provide you with security regardless of your gender, or the time. And, when I say “provide you with security”, I mean a secure neighborhood and country, where crimes are the anomalies, not the norm. What we have now is rampant abuse of the law and an inefficient bureaucratic set-up that works for no one but those who are corrupt and apathetic.

Because, they are well protected. They have their chauffeur driven cars, and their servants to go to the market, and their guards to watch their homes. They don’t care about you and I. They don’t care that even the drunk scum who met you on the bus dared to ask you why you were out alone with a man because our well-protected politicians themselves keep saying those words. Our government has been screaming those questions out so loud – “Why were you out?”, “Who were you with?”, “What were you wearing?”, that even the rapists have realized that they’re the lucky ones in this entire scenario.

You’re only the one who died…

Not even the most brutal torture can bring you back. Not the most painful punishment is going to make your boyfriend or your family feel any better. But you asked us to make sure they’re caught and punished, and they will be.

But, they’re not the reason you are dead, they are just the way it happened. Our society is to blame for your funeral. We are to blame for what they did to you.

I just can’t get over the fact that for 10 days, you were fighting this, and you told all of us that you wanted to live.

We did nothing to protect you.

And we couldn’t do anything to save you.

Forgive me, Sister.

Shamefully Indian but Proudly yours,

Love,

me.

Facebook Debate: What do Rapists deserve?

India Plans to Shame Rapists, Even as Its Cops Shame Rape Victims to Suicide

S: Bastards should be strung up and hung on the streets so every one can see.

M: Sigh. Fortunately or unfortunately, we must advance and not regress, even when it comes to punishment… Still, sometimes I wonder. Anyway, you can’t hang mentalities. Especially not nation-wide mentalities..

S:  I think it will be progress if we can reduce the number of rapes…. ergo…castration and public lynching

M: *grins* Then, I guess rapists should be glad you’re not standing for office. …But, seriously, the way to reduce these crimes is not through fear; that’ll only make misogyny levels rise. What we need is education at a primary level that imparts more moral and sexual education than “boys and girls should not sit together” in class.

S: thats cool and all but as long as these assholes get away with light sentences there is no hope, imagine one of those delhi fuckers is gonna be out of jail in less than a year just cause he is a couple of months shy of his 18th birthday. and yes i wish i could get elected to some sort of office where i get to lay some HOSTEL type torture on them rapists

M: The law is (supposed to be) the codification of the most logical and rational principles of human behavior; It cannot successfully fix problems that arise at a societal level, but only rein them in while society does the rest. We are society. If India doesn’t come up with a solution, and fast, it’s only a matter of time before Vigilante justice takes over.. And, as bad as that might be, can you blame me if I think it might actually do some good? We have an unarmed citizenry constantly brutalized by armed criminal miscreants and apathetic State machinery. At least the Vigilantes will be of the people, by the people, for the people.

S: yuh The Revolution is coming !!!!! and screw our outdated legal system which was meant for a different time , which is the main reason why i didnt go ahead and practice

M: The Revolution is here!  (And, yes, the legal system is damn fucked up.. But, ignoring it isn’t going to make it any better! -_-)

S: and this is no democracy where the 5-0 (popo) is happily off committing rapes and our political figures are all criminals themselves making chauvinist remarks on national tV

M: Exactly why I said that it’s a deep rooted mentality that we’re dealing with rather than just a few anti-social elements! The rapists *are* the social elements of the day! And, the only thing that can fix that is education. For starters, I think we need to stop some corruption so that we can use that money to increase pay-scales of teachers and police officers. That’s the only way that these two forces will adequately represent the interests of all facets of society, and not just of the rich and powerful who can not only buy them, but sexually assault their daughters, and shoot them dead if they dare raise their own voices.

S: ONE DAY, ONE fucking DAY everyone will get whats coming to them

M: 😦 I hope so, S-san. I truly do…

“The Problem is Apathy, not Activism”

Every single Indian needs to read this *right now*.
…Thank you, Ser.

Smoke Signals

News has four cycles.

There is, first, the child, flapping its arms and legs and yelping in excitement at having been presented with a brand new shiny object, wondering what to do with it: toss it in the air? Kick it? Try and stuff it, whole and entire, into the mouth? (Think of days one and two of the aftermath of the Delhi rape, when ‘coverage’ was a series of increasingly shrill freeform yelps without coherence or substance but with lots of lung powering it.)

Then the teen, as volubly excited but with a greater awareness of his peers. (That channel had the home minister on the griddle and called for the resignation of the police commissioner? We need to ask for someone’s resignation too. Oh and that other media house? It gave the victim a symbolic name — that’s so cool; we need to give her…

View original post 1,972 more words