Scars on the body can still heal but not those left on the mind! Yet you think you have all time in the world to think on it?

Every once in a while I pick up a newspaper only to get horrified. Every time I watch a TV and the reality strikes me and every moment I wondered over spending a night all alone, the issue pinned me. Elders often ask us not to get perturbed by such news, but it isn't that comforting either. 

Last few months have seen back to back cases of young girls being raped, mauled, assaulted, brutalized, harassed, shoved off a running train or left locked in a house without food or water for months together. Umpteen cases of rape in a span of just 24 hours in every district of the nation used to sound dreadful; now it’s a part and parcel of life. There would not be perhaps a single girl not having one such frightful story in her kitty.

 As media brings these images to us in a 24x7 witness, the news seems to have anesthetized us out of our ability to empathize, react or protest. Are we a citizenry bereft of any human emotion and conscience? Our silence condones crime. Our apathy is their power source. Our indifference is the curtain these criminals hide behind, each time they ruin a woman’s life.

More than twenty cases of rape and molestation were reported in Haryana, in a month; let alone Delhi and rest of the country. And mind you, twenty is just another number which have been figured out; Heaven knows how many complaints the police refused to lodge. Add on to that, the number of cases which were not reported at all due to varied reasons like family reputation, the victim being too ashamed or afraid, the victim being murdered etc.

The toll of gang rapes seems to be increasing day by day. An ongoing struggle for emancipation of women seems unending; or, shall I say, redundant?

Going through a few back end stories of some of those cases, we find out that reasons for such inhumanity is that the accused wanted to teach the victim a lesson. Lesson for what? Because she refused to surrender before their unending, unethical pleasures; because she retaliated to their molestation; because she raised her voice!

What I see, the more such cases are being unearthed, the more these heinous crimes are happening! From one end of the country we come to know about a 6-year girl being raped by a father, and the entire “rape-culture” itself changes. Worse becomes the worst. Their inner animal would have mocked, “What an idea Sirji! Why the hell was I hunting down outside home when I have so many daughters/cousins/sisters?”
The moment an acid attack case hit our ears, galore of such cases started piling up. Probably, they got yet another Sirji’s idea. “A 50 bucks acid would satisfy my virility; or a lesson for her should satisfy my ego.”
You always see what you tend to see. They choose to see various methods to answer their overexcited hormonal calls from the pain and agony of women. And the government, society, feminists, pro-feminists and thinkers talk of emancipation of women’s destiny! It’s not their mentality, its sickness; they are the sufferers of low self esteem. You arrest them today and then release tomorrow to feed their sexual drives again. India has now become a land of wild and vile. 

Who are these men walking with us in the crowd and committing such heinous crime? Bringing on such news should make them realize of what they are doing. But is it happening? From any angle, do you see a sense of penance in their eyes? It’s not. It’ll not. Such news will give them new ideas to continue with their desires, ideas to sodomize! That’s it.

No, I am not asking to keep such news at low; not to raise your voice. But only raising voice won’t work. A story should always end with a moral. The headlines must change from “A girl was allegedly raped” to “An attempted rape was FIRed and a finger has been taken out of his body.” Personally, I have surrendered hoping that the mentality of men would change. No, the situation would only keep getting worse. No education, morale or therapy can make them gentlemen. Because they are not men, they are animals! Capital punishment is an easy walk. That girl who is gets raped dies every day; every morning waking up she fights with herself, fights with the mockery of the society, fights answering how ‘exactly’ was she raped, fights for being a ‘She’! Capital punishment doesn't justify those tears. Such people should also be agonized and tortured to death!

Against the strangers who took away my sanctity;
Against the injustice I bore yet never seemed pretty;
Against the darkest night I fear talking even to myself;
Against each tear that ran through my eyes on itself;
Against the present with a violence;
Against the people who never realized my essence;
Against the world that took away my toy;
Against the rules that killed my joy;
Against each devil the government spare
I dare! 

Yes, I Killed You - An Open Letter

I pray the angels come and usher you into God's presence
May they carry you, like I wanted to, when you fall asleep.
May His love on you be overwhelming, dear daughter! 
May you laugh in the presence of the angels,
The curse of death loses its sting, sooner or later..!!

Although God called you home so early,
With so many dreams we had, so many songs unsung.
Those lullabies that I tucked in my bosom,
You'll be in my heart, in my dreams.
The moments we had I will carry through, benumb.

I know I am the sinner, and yet,
On bended knees I pray for you,
As tear splash down my cheek.
These tears in my heart will water my prayers
To you near His heart, may He keep..!!

You have every reason to push me away
You, and should, hate me for this way
I am the culprit, I do confess
Dying in the dead trepidation I pray you listen
The story of your mother, her cries forbidden..!!

Perhaps everything that frightens us is
Something helpless that wants our love.
Torn with anxieties and blighted,
Far from the Lord’s world even I came
Only not to be expected.

As a clay toy we play with in summer,
Is left to mix itself with mud in rain.
I grew up as a broken part of a tree
Bled with the orgy of
Ignorance and disdain.

Never allowed to raise my voice,
I acquired a habit of permanent astray,
Never admitted how I hated the wolf-whistlers
Like hungry crocodiles ready to devour their prey.
I sanctioned it, through their action and my inaction.

A hapless girl with the image of my prince,
I used to dream of every night.
A little heaven of hope mixed with despair
That he will enter my life,
And the dark days will one day be fair.

The day came; I did not know would be so dark
A fool’s paradise I was in; I was sold out.
Dreams that I would make his life heaven
Oh! I was a burden for them too
They demanded their voice out.

Yet I endured, life can’t be so ruthless
Now, perhaps, I am at my right place
“Hands that he has held mine, fluttered my heart
With bricks, he has made this house
I’ll give it my soul, my every part.”

But Alas.! Even that was not meant for me.
If he would only smile,
I would have given him my heart.
If he would only just grazed my hand,
I would have undressed both of us.

But a subjugated soul couldn't dream so pure.
Where I wanted to love him,
He craved for my body.
Where I yearned for his touch,
He embarrassed me with an authority.

O daughter! How should I put my tears in words?
The fear, the turmoil, the torpid, the chain
Wretched me through each day year-by-year
From an infant I grew too old,
With a hope, nothing is permanent, my dear!

But Alas! Nothing has changed.

The body is still susceptible to pain
It only has to eat and breathe the air; and sleep.
Blood flows within the thick skin, I don’t know why.
The body shudders as it shuddered,
Now voice doesn't come out, I have stopped to try.

But Alas! Nothing has changed.

Tortures are just as they were,
Only the houses have grown bigger.
The fact that I am a girl still haunts
It bruises, swells, oozes, bleeds and linger.

But Alas! Nothing has changed.

It’s just that men have become more foppish outside.
Their ways to argue their righteous and justify are fancy.
But the howl with which the body answers to them,
Was, is and ever will be a cry over death
According to the age-old agony and pitch.

But Alas! Nothing has changed.

Except for the course of rivers,
The line of forests, the color of flowers,
The stretch of coasts, deserts and glaciers,
The tides of oceans, the anguish of nature,
The height of mountains, the number of creatures.

Except perhaps the manners of society
The eccentricity of ceremonies and culture
Evolution of science, books and gadgets
The dreams, the aspirations
Leisure, attitude, sports and matches.

But, amidst those landscapes still wanders my soul,
It disappears, returns, draws nearer, moves away.
A stranger to itself, phlegmatic,
Unsure, uncertain of its own existence,
As if the body has nowhere to stay.

In that mannerism, the soul suffocates
The movement of hands to shield the head remains the same.
The body writhes, jerks and tries to pull away.
So many lives at stake, still they sit so calm
As if they have all time in the world to fix the problem.

They say you are what you do, not what you say.
What they did to me made me cry at times
And made me spend sleepless nights
The religion they boast of,
I am in all their worship.
Yet, as a wife at home, I am battered
As a girl child, I am killed
As a student, I am tricked
As a worker, I am asked
As a stranger on the road, I am raped.

I bore it somehow, I know not
How I gathered the strength.
But I couldn't muster up the courage
To see you in the same pain at length

With the dreams of a future bright
With the feeling what I was doing the best
I killed you…
I killed you with my own bloody hands.

I've closed my eyes to their hypocrisy for long enough.
It’s time for the awakening, I prefer..
Of my soul and their conscience. But
I want to let you know that you have my love forever.

Learn, my child, to look at life early as a serious matter.
It’s is hard; it does not pamper anybody,
And for every time it strokes you
It gives you ten blows.

Become accustomed to that soon,
But don't let it defeat you.
Decide to fight.
Close the door and cry out loud,
But never show the tear to those proud.

I want to sing you the song of your own strengths.
I want you to tell a different story.
I want you to be just you, not anyone else.
To be unique, beautiful, individual self.

I want you to be out loud grateful with you.
I want to you believe in that is bigger than you.
I want to help you have a go at choices.
I want to help you savour being in the world.
I want to encourage you to get up and try again
And have another go.

I want to help you find your signature strengths
So that you can give to others and be kind.

You have to keep this story running
Because it’s time for my goodbye,
But you have to fight.
Not because you hate the present less,
But because you love the future bright.

When your innocence does not make you vulnerable,
When your love does not make you weak,
When you muster the courage to fight back tear,
Come back to my womb, my love,
That pain of being a mother, I will proudly bear…