Dear Ashifa,
My college, a college reserved only for Women is celebrating its annual day and I see all my students all decked up for this most awaited event of the year. There is perfume in the air, good music has set the tone of the moment and festivities and animations are in full swing; the swaying young girls and faculties already feeling the plunge of this bonaza of the year. While all of us are lost in wonderful, unforgettable moments, I feel completely ill at ease, furious, outraged and completely at loss of words over a face book post that informs me of rape of a 8 year old Asifa in the faraway land of J & K. The gory details of the rape have taken over me and it’s nauseating to think about the torture the 8 year old must have suffered. My hands tremble of what to write and confused, a heady mix of thoughts, almost akin to loss of capability of stringing any thoughts together frustrate me like never before.
I feel utterly helpless and I feel like crying, my hands tremble and I feel guilty. Guilty of something I have not done, guilty of inaction, guilty of not being able to channelize my outrage and sharing it with others. Feeling defeated, my head bowed down in shame, disgust, guilt and drown by emotion, I take to Facebook and commit the act that has become the in-thing of our times. I scroll down, through the post where I read the details of the heinous crime and share it with my friends on Facebook. I feel utterly ashamed that all I can do for the moment is share this post and make people know of what happened to this innocent girl…
Ashifa, I do not believe in God anymore and yet I pray to the nameless Almighty for justice to be given you, your friends, relatives and all those who feel outraged by this act. I proudly (and somewhat hypocritically) say that All Indians are my brothers and sisters and even if Ashifa, if you had not been Indian, I wish no person endures what you went through during those moments when you were kept alive to be raped again, and again at yet again, before the last time. I am ashamed that this is happening in our country where we proudly affirm that we give respect to women and elderly. Asifa, we have betrayed you, not as Indians but more so as humans, we have betrayed your being irrespective of your religion, faith, age and what not parameters on which our identities are fashioned on. Asifa, when I read what you went through, I wish I could become violent and perpetuate the most gruesome tortures to those who ‘enjoyed’ you.
I really don’t know what this writing is going to do. I am sure some people are going to read your event, your rape in a completely different light and may attribute something that you are not even aware of – you are going to be seen as merely being a minority, or your belonging to your state. I don’t know but it may also happen that this whole rape thing is going be to given a communal colour to it, may to be to an extent of getting a political mileage out of it for parties across the spectrum, I really don’t know and I am all the more distressed over such an happening before it takes place. I used to be an optimist but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
Finally Asifa, I am sorry, for there seems an absence of ‘collective guilt’ in all my friends and relatives and all the so-called middle classes and the aspirational upper middles classes of being concerned about the 7 pay commission, immobile properties, the latest cars and their new models, their trips abroad, the weekend parties and what not… I will not write about all that as there is not end to it. I feel extremely disgusted at our attitudes of thinking of things that we are only immediately concerned about. This kind of thick skinned attitude and absence of any interest of anything that happens beyond our immediate entourage and environment leaves me utterly disgusted. I just wonder how the thick skinned attitude people would react had Asifa been there daughter. I wish them nightmares that would make them little more sensitive towards our remote worlds in order to bring them back to their senses and to their strayed humanity.
My college, a college reserved only for Women is celebrating its annual day and I see all my students all decked up for this most awaited event of the year. There is perfume in the air, good music has set the tone of the moment and festivities and animations are in full swing; the swaying young girls and faculties already feeling the plunge of this bonaza of the year. While all of us are lost in wonderful, unforgettable moments, I feel completely ill at ease, furious, outraged and completely at loss of words over a face book post that informs me of rape of a 8 year old Asifa in the faraway land of J & K. The gory details of the rape have taken over me and it’s nauseating to think about the torture the 8 year old must have suffered. My hands tremble of what to write and confused, a heady mix of thoughts, almost akin to loss of capability of stringing any thoughts together frustrate me like never before.
I feel utterly helpless and I feel like crying, my hands tremble and I feel guilty. Guilty of something I have not done, guilty of inaction, guilty of not being able to channelize my outrage and sharing it with others. Feeling defeated, my head bowed down in shame, disgust, guilt and drown by emotion, I take to Facebook and commit the act that has become the in-thing of our times. I scroll down, through the post where I read the details of the heinous crime and share it with my friends on Facebook. I feel utterly ashamed that all I can do for the moment is share this post and make people know of what happened to this innocent girl…
Ashifa, I do not believe in God anymore and yet I pray to the nameless Almighty for justice to be given you, your friends, relatives and all those who feel outraged by this act. I proudly (and somewhat hypocritically) say that All Indians are my brothers and sisters and even if Ashifa, if you had not been Indian, I wish no person endures what you went through during those moments when you were kept alive to be raped again, and again at yet again, before the last time. I am ashamed that this is happening in our country where we proudly affirm that we give respect to women and elderly. Asifa, we have betrayed you, not as Indians but more so as humans, we have betrayed your being irrespective of your religion, faith, age and what not parameters on which our identities are fashioned on. Asifa, when I read what you went through, I wish I could become violent and perpetuate the most gruesome tortures to those who ‘enjoyed’ you.
I really don’t know what this writing is going to do. I am sure some people are going to read your event, your rape in a completely different light and may attribute something that you are not even aware of – you are going to be seen as merely being a minority, or your belonging to your state. I don’t know but it may also happen that this whole rape thing is going be to given a communal colour to it, may to be to an extent of getting a political mileage out of it for parties across the spectrum, I really don’t know and I am all the more distressed over such an happening before it takes place. I used to be an optimist but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
Finally Asifa, I am sorry, for there seems an absence of ‘collective guilt’ in all my friends and relatives and all the so-called middle classes and the aspirational upper middles classes of being concerned about the 7 pay commission, immobile properties, the latest cars and their new models, their trips abroad, the weekend parties and what not… I will not write about all that as there is not end to it. I feel extremely disgusted at our attitudes of thinking of things that we are only immediately concerned about. This kind of thick skinned attitude and absence of any interest of anything that happens beyond our immediate entourage and environment leaves me utterly disgusted. I just wonder how the thick skinned attitude people would react had Asifa been there daughter. I wish them nightmares that would make them little more sensitive towards our remote worlds in order to bring them back to their senses and to their strayed humanity.
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