Protest against the incident on 16th December 2012 - India
Shubhra Chaturvedi
Artist & Photographer from New Delhi, India
The article along with photographs that I took at the protest. This was being held against the incident on 16th December, where a 23 year old girl, who has been named Nirbhayaa (fearless) by the media was raped by 6 men in a moving bus and then she and her friend (who was severely beaten up) were dumped on the road naked. She was so brutally raped that she lost her intestines to the internal injury. She succumbed to her injuries after fighting for 13 days in the ICU of the hospital. Her case was a wake up call and everyone took to roads and the anger was all over the country not just in Delhi. My article is related to this event...
“Bhay makes
Nirbhayaas”
We fail to teach our children, especially girls, that it’s not their fault…
When I was a child about
to reach the age of puberty, I found myself arguing with my mother. My question
was why were my cousins (boys) allowed many things that I was not. These were
simple things. Like they could go to see an Amitabh Bachchan movie in the
theatre and I could not, not even with them. They could go to the nearby market
by themselves but I could not. My mother tried hard to explain rather than just
say NO. She started, “Beta it is not safe for girls.” “And it is safe for boys?,”
I replied.
“You think someone
can kidnap us, but they can kidnap boys too,” I added. My mother replied, “It’s
not just about kidnapping…” There was an exasperated look on her face, she did
not know how to explain. Finally she said, “It’s different with girls, it’s the
way God has made you. Some day you will understand”. Angered and unable to see
her logic I stomped out of the room. I had lost the first battle.
Some years later, I
went with a friend to get a dress stitched and I got a knee length straight skirt
with a coat stitched. All of 15 years, I was thrilled and believed it was the best
dress I ever had. My mother however ripped me apart when she saw it. “Tum aise kapde pehan kar rickshaw pe baith
ke ghar se bahar jaogi?” (You are going to wear these clothes and step out
of house and travel by a rickshaw?) I argued. But in vain. I was never allowed
to wear the dress as long as I stayed in Kanpur .
I had lost another battle.
I moved to Delhi for my graduation
and was on my own for the first time in real sense of the word. Though I lived
with relatives but being on the road on my own was a new experience. I was
given a list of things to do and not to do by my folks at home. “Don’t venture
out in the summer afternoon or after dark,”
“Don’t take lonely, arterial roads,” “Don’t take crowded DTC buses”… Among all the instructions none said, “Carry
a safety pin or a Swiss knife,” or “Shout out loud if someone misbehaves or report
to police or at home.” So instead of facing things upfront, and shouting at
someone when they pinched, or standing up against eve teasing, I would silently
suffer. I would avoid crowded places or when I couldn’t avoid places like the Trade
Fair at Pragati Maidan, I would just feel humiliated and come back telling myself
that I would not go there again. I never spoke at home for the fear of my freedom
being curbed and even more sanctions put on me. By now I had lost so many
battles I had lost the count.
After that several
times, with known and unknown people, at a friend’s house, on a train from
Mumbai to Delhi, at bus stops while waiting for chartered buses and even in the
office (where my boss always scanned us up and down before assigning us some
task ), numerous instances happened and I suffered all of them. I never had the
courage to talk about them for the fear that I would be scolded. “Why did you
get up from your seat of the train?”, “Why did you go to your friend’s house so
late in the evening?”, “Why were you wearing such tight jeans?” At every step I
felt that if I spoke up, my rights would be curtailed further. I chose to
suffer for the little freedom that I had earned in all these years.
The last instance
in this fabric that I am trying to weave is of a man, (supposedly a friend),
who kissed me without my consent. The look on his face, the feeling he left me
with…it all hit me only the next day. The first thought that came to my mind
was I should have said No to him coming home, “Na wo aata na ye hota” (If he had not come, this would not have
happened). This time I suffered but not in silence. I shared it with a friend
and with my sisters. All were supportive and asked me to confront the person
but I did not have the courage. In my heart, I felt that maybe I had invited
it, that I did not choose my friends well. I had lost yet another battle and
almost felt like loosing a war.
As women we lose
these battles right from childhood. I do not blame my mother or relatives for
telling me what they did. We all want safety for ourselves and for our
children. Hence we have to tell them to be careful, avoid lonely patches, be
aware etc. But what we fail to teach our children, especially girls, is that it’s
not their fault. That they can come out and speak and that they should if need
be use a pin, a knife, a pepper spray or whatever. For, as parents and as women
too, we know that it’s best to stay away as much as we can from the police,
lawyers, etc… We know that they are all somehow part of the larger picture. We
know that road rage is the in thing and if you kick the male ego once you can
always live in fear of being stalked, of acid being thrown at you, of being
thrashed or even overpowered and raped…
A statement I have
heard every second citizen of this country say to someone, no matter where you
live is “Arre bhaiya apni suraksha apne
haath, in logon se kya pange lena”(Our safety is in our hands don’t get
into trouble with these people). Till this attitude changes, till the time we
can’t come out and complain without fear, till the time the oppressors do not
have fear of punishment, humiliation, till the time the police and the judiciary
are seen as people willing to help rather than in cahoots with the oppressors,
more “Nirbhayaas” will happen. Some will cause a ripple, most will go unnoticed
and we will feel the pain of each of these and silently think “Oh I got saved
today, it could have been me…”
©Shubhra
Chaturvedi, 3rd Jan 2013.
No comments:
Post a Comment