This story did not begin with Nirbhaya, it definitely did not end with her and it continues into its next chapter right now as we speak.
That terribly cold night in December has long gone… but its deathly chill creeps up on every woman and girl who steps out of her home and sometimes, follows her right home too.
India woke up to a newsbyte the morning after, that left it shivering to its very core- the cold was not of the season, but of the tragic reminder that this has happened before and will happen again.
“After unending trials, then reports of a suicide by one of the accused, and rejection of clemency pleas, the case seemed to reach its natural conclusion with the upholding of the death sentences for the accused.”
India exhaled, slapped itself on its back, as outrage once more poured forth from every quarter on the delay in justice for a girl whose presence does not go away.
“So what is the legacy of that young girl once full of life and promise for the future; who had dreams for her family and herself; who was like you and me?”
What is Nirbhaya’s legacy?
The anger and solemn tears of a nation in grief over the ruthlessness with which a young life had been violated, and the collective sense of awe at the unrelenting spirit of that battered body clinging onto the life that was slipping away from her, is the memory I hold onto.
But till mothers and fathers condition their sons differently, and society stops looking for excuses for rape, Nirbhaya will remain an urban legend- relegated to annual memorials.
“This can’t be the legacy of someone who has left behind a lesson written in her blood and pain.”
It is difficult to predict the future- the only thing we can cling onto is hope. But this hope should not be the false illusions one nurtures with desperation.
It is time we realized that there is simply no option.
If the women are not safe, Life itself is threatened.
Our contribution to the legacy of this incredible individual would be to consciously work towards mitigating misogyny and sexism in our environment.
“That there are people who view women as objects of gratification, as prey to their bestial instincts, is disturbing enough. Where do these people get these notions? How is it fed?”
Spare a moment and analyse- the first predatory instincts of those men in the bus when they spotted their ‘victim.’ How does this happen? How do they never shudder to think that there could be consequences for their heinous actions?
The questions have all the answers encoded in them.
The basic mentality of aggressive dominance over the woman is imbued in the environment around us so strongly, that we do not realize the levels to which it has percolated and engendering distorted mind-sets in its wake.
“It is indeed disturbing- for all little girls and boys – yes, even the boys because if they are brought up with less than human values, they will be neither man nor beast- but just a mass of warped perversion destroying everything and everyone remorselessly.”
The voices of dissent are growing louder, they are coming from all quarters- girls and boys.
Yes, that is heartening- because the boys need as much saving as the girls.
Here is one more voice – Siddhika Awle pours forth her anger and we are sharing her lines…
“We do not need a celebrity to add value to this write up- because after all, what matters is what you and I think and believe- we matter, our voice matters, and that is Nirbhaya’s legacy.”
So you say I asked for it?
Your boundaries supposedly, die at the rims of my shorts,
Becoming the reason for covered knees, ankles, even arms.
Oh my God! What are you wearing? questions my mother.
Does anyone bother you? worries a brother.
Be careful in the bus,
Wear a scarf, avoid the fuss.
Watch your step, choose a road with lights,
The dark roads are dungeons, you are weak you can’t fight.
Keep your eyes down, never fight back,
You’re only a girl, physical strength you do lack.
Cowered by prying eyes, always in a sheath.
Yet you say I asked for it?
You objectify, you murder my innocence,
Yet you say I asked for it?
I want to breathe, I want to fly.
It’s my time to feel beautiful and not shy.
I have countless dreams to make come true,
I want to be loved, respected and known for my value.
I too am a sister, and a daughter of a womb.
I want to live, not lie lifeless in a tomb.
Is that too much to seek?
Yet you say, that I asked for it?
Yes, I am asking for my freedom to live,
To breathe, dream, fly,
Yes, Iam asking!
Acknowledgements: The three pieces of artwork used in this feature have been taken from our participating entries from The Power of X Contest.
Thank you Vasundhara Srinivas, Sonal Jain and Bushra Sayed.
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