Imagine yourself as a rich executive who can enjoy the finer things in life. Let’s say you build a big empire and your products are in great demand. Now, every one of your shops are making big sales. Life is good as long as you keep raking in the money. Now let’s say some hoodlums break into a couple of your stores and vandalize them. Your sales suffer slightly. But don’t worry, the police will help you out. What are they for anyway? But the police start neglecting their duty and following the way of vandalism themselves. Now the money stops pouring in completely. What are you going to buy for yourself now? A small island where no one can threaten you?
Ok, let’s imagine another situation. You make lots of money, enough to enjoy the best of foods in the market, best clothing, best house, essentially the best lifestyle. Now someone comes along and defies morality by poisoning your food. No worries because you can afford the best treatment. But the doctors no longer make the effort to save you because they can make more money elsewhere saving another rich victim or they treat you poorly by overdosing you with more medication than your body can handle. Even if we presume that you will be saved and have enough money to sue the doctor and the server of your food with a great lawyer, even he may come around and bite you in the ass. How long before you realize it is not just about the money?
Dear citizens of social networks, morals take precedence. Teach your kids to learn to become better human beings who strive hard and work smart for every dollar they earn because money has a way of quickly changing you as a person.
Morals run the world, not money.
Why is that investment bankers, a field dominated by men in high ranks, mostly trade on artificial commodities, interest rate differentials, bet on risky securities that have little no inventive value, yet make great sums of money; but social workers, a field dominated by women in high ranks, who try to balance the inequities in distribution of wealth, human rights and social inequalities end up being one of the least compensated? The world can probably use more investment bankers if they invest towards meaningful science, technology and artistic areas of innovation that promote talent not greed, but the world desperately needs more healers, more listeners, more social workers.
For my non-desi friends, I would like to introduce the following speech from one of my favorite movies, 3 Idiots.
It is nothing but a strong play on the word “balaktar” (rape) to replace “chamatkar” (miracle).
Everyone cracked up when they first heard this speech to prove a point that one shouldn’t memorize or rote-learn their way out in life because sooner of later life is going to fuck you over. Pardon my language. But that is the literal translation.
Like a bad omen, this speech has become eerily true for the disrespecting males of India and many others like them in different parts of the world.
Some “munni” is getting “badnamed’ because her innocent “jawaani” (age no bar) is suddenly difficult to tolerate and she suffers silently, keeping her mouth closed “fevicol se” as the shameless culprits pat themselves on the shoulder for proving their manhood.
Read this speech again. For us desis, we may laugh some more till our belly hurts. But I urge you, read again and again till you get my point.
Peechle battis saal se inhone nirantar is college mein balatkar pe balatkar kiye.
Our principal has raped time and time again for the last twenty years.
Umeed hai aagey bee karte rahege.
We hope he will continue doing so.
Hamein to aashcharya hota hai ki ek insaan apne jeevan kaal mein itni balatkar kaisi kar sakta hai.
We, the students, are surprised that how can one person rape so much in one lifetime.
Inhone kadi tapaasya se apne aapko is kaabil bunaya hai.
He has worked hard and prepared himself well to become such a capable rapist.
Waqt ka sahi upyog ghante ka purna istemaal koi inse seeke. Seeke inse seeke.
Everyone should learn how to use their time full and wisely from this man to rape some more.
Aaj hum sab chaatra yaha hai,
Today, we are all students
Kal desh videsh mein fail jayenge.
Tomorrow, we will be flourishing over the world
Waadaa hai aapse jis desh mein honge waha balatkar karenge,
I promise to you that no matter where we go, we will continue to rape
I.C.E ka naam roshan karenge.
We will make our (University/Country) proud.
Dika denge sabko jo balatkar karne ki kshamtaa yaha ke chaatro mein hai wo sansaar ke kisi chaatro mein nahi.
We will show everyone that no one else in the world has the capability to rape better than our own Indian counterparts.
No other chaatra. No other chaatra.
No one else.
I think these rest of the following lines on “sthan” (breasts, yes some men have them too) are completely applicable for women, who, by simply following their normal life routine, are somehow demonstrating that we are hiding something so special that it needs to be abused by rapists.
Sthan hota sabi ke paas hai.
Sab chupa ke rakte hai, detaa koi nai.
Aapne apna sthan is balatkari purush ke haat mein diya hai,
ab dekiye yeh kaisa iska upyog karta hai
Everyday we hear about more and more cases of rape:
Every fucking day.
- Gang or individual
- In private or public
- Tortured to death or alive
- In daylight or at night
- Minor or adult victim
- Remote area or major metropolitan city
Sadly there are many more categories that we can dissolve these crimes into, the two biggest being-
- Reported or unreported and
- Received justice or still waiting for their case to be heard.
It’s bad enough that these crimes happen. It’s worse that we have so many in number that we can neatly classify them into these buckets, debate in circles and turn around to see another one happening.
Hearing these reports, I wonder what kind of a country was I born in?
The same country that gave the world the wonders of Gita, yoga, ayurveda and many more jewels of wisdom that the Western world is opening its arms to and thriving on today.
I learned more about my religion and Gita spirituality in a simple New York City temple where hundreds of all faiths, and backgrounds gather in peace than my recent trip to Vrindavan, a holy pilgrimage site where “tour guides” would haggle me for money to put into their pockets and if I don’t, then my life is at risk and I will live miserably without the blessings of God, in essence, perpetuating fear in the name of religion. But that’s another story and another blog post waiting to happen.
Why is India moving so backward in the one area which practically runs the world?
I am speaking of morality, not money.
What kind of signal are women in India getting? Women that are strong, intelligent and very much capable of surviving without their male counterparts if we had to. A signal that if we leave our homes past 10p, 9p, 8p, 7p…now what is it 10am?….we are practically asking for trouble? There’s a thin line between something being a respectable threshold and being considered insanity. Should we all move abroad? Should we hide inside like a coward?
How would these men feel if we women starting hitting them on public buses, clubs, parks (and almost everything other venue where a woman had been raped) with iron rods, at their weakest point which they might consider their strongest source of manliness. Should we get justice by doing what Usha Narayane and other women in Kasturba Nagar did to Akku Yadav, a rapist and murderer, who terrorized the lives of hundreds of families for a decade and bribed the police for his own security?
No, don’t turn into one of them.
We have a great law system guys.
They’ll do something.
No, you can’t do tit for tat.
I’m sorry but did my just saying “tit” signal that I’m open to getting assaulted?
These rapists, we can call them, uncouth bastards, worst scumbags of the earth and many other names to appease our boiling rage for the acts they have committed. But men are not alone. Many women allow such acts to perpetuate in their homes against their daughter-in-laws or fellow kin in their circle, in brothels etc. taking out the violence against their own gender. It hurts even more when women don’t support each other.
How would these men feel if I told them working in a company and earning money does not nearly even come close to running a household. I’ve been on both sides of the equation and I can safely say that the amount of responsibilities that come with taking care of a family’s needs at home are a billion times more hard work than completing projects for your boss. I’m sure there are some men that carry out these roles of a “househusband” as the women go to work and I say, kudos to you for breaking the stereotype and now please go tell everyone else just how much more difficult it is to sacrifice everything, be unpaid and still be content enough to keep doing it for the family.
I am lost at words to understand what can be really done.
These men and women can very well even get a degree and stamp that symbol of “I’m educated” on their asses, yet they are far from it. They may even pray and sing “aartis” to the many Goddesses (Parvati, Durga, Lakshmi) for blessings, forgetting very well the wrath of Goddess Kali. How have we become so hypocritical? I can no longer blindly sing praises of “Incredible India” as these atrocities continue. The basic driving conscience of treating others as you would want to be treated, or doing good karma to receive good karma, and simply put, just being a respectful human being seems to have evaded their minds at some point when they were growing up.
It is not a paucity of literacy programs I am concerned with now, it is raising awareness that even the most reputed and most admired men and women in power positions may get away with this backward thinking (*cough* some politicians). No one change our thinking but ourselves. It has to come from within.
Damini’s life will not go in vain. We will get her and many others like her the justice they deserve. You will find that these women are quite the resolute fighters themselves, so take inspiration and kudos to you for your efforts.
I will keep doing whatever I can to fight for them. Even if I may die screaming my lungs out.
Right now, personally, moving back to Delhi to work, enjoy its nightlife (wherever it’s not infested with such scum) and live a secure life seems like a distant dream. But it will surely come. One day.