No Country for Women

Oh darling, if only you knew. You’re just one of many pawns in the Hell we call society. There were many before you, whose names became yet another addition to the statistics calling out our failure as a nation. But that was pretty much it, sooner or later they faded from the minds and raging hearts of the public. You’re no different to them, you’re just one of many who wore miniskirts or saris, prayed thrice a day or didn’t believe in a deity, who voiced her opinions without hesitation or kept to herself, who may have needed a crutch to walk, or crawled on all fours. Maybe if we brought you all together, your collective screams would shake the world to its core.

Your story is regurgitated and repeated, the trauma returns to haunt you countless times. Encircling you, the vicious cycle; angry roars of shaken people, empty promises parroted by the bureaucracy, the gripping chill in the goodbye of parents as their daughters step out of the house, and the inevitable blame game. Who is responsible? The police, the government, your religion, the time of the day, the unsafe area you were not supposed to wander through, maybe even you? And in the racket of finger-pointing and screeching, your fifteen minutes of unwanted, distasteful fame is up, your cries fall on deaf ears, as we wait once again for more like you. What more can you expect from a country that objectifies and commodifies its women, from portraying them as eye candy for the lusty masses, to using your name to further their agendas… You remain by no fault of yours a pawn, a profit/loss calculation, another case, another death.

If I could wish for one thing, I pray that you hold in you the power of Maa Durga and Maa Kali when you come out of your mother’s womb, and tear those monsters apart limb from limb. Because did you know darling? Your safety is solely your responsibility, men will be men, they are hardly ever at fault. I hope you grow up in a home where the men respect women, where the length of your dress or the decibel of your voice won’t malign character, but what I hope for the most is for you to be feared by them. The courtesy of giving you basic respect passed by an absurdly long time ago, if they fear you, they won’t violate you. Maybe then there will be less like you, and you’ll live the life you wanted and deserved.