Seventy-Five

August 19, 2022

 

Over the last few days, there are times, often in the afternoons when the ground suddenly drops from below me and I find myself at the edge of a crumbly bottomless pit. My words tumble into that void and I reach out to grasp the few I can. 

 

India turned 75 on August 15th. A great milestone for any nation. Like many I took time to feel the gift of being born in this multi-cultural, fierce, and loving land. Without ever being religious I always felt a strong sense of identity of being Hindu with its rich culture and literature — radical myths and characters of every shade of the rainbow — twining within, giving me fragrance and depth. But the greatest gift of India for me have been my school and college days where classmates of every shape and religion shared each other’s food and stories. 

 

Even though I was born after independence the freedom struggle had deep meaning for me. Uncles, aunts, told stories of their protests and as I grew, I felt a strong civic sense — a need to fight for equality and justice for all. This was my India. Of course, I was privileged by my class, my city life, my education, while many others were not and probably felt differently about their India.

 

I walked the streets around Dhoby Ghaut with my daughter at noon on August 15^th. We had just seen the doctor and were looking for a place to eat lunch. We talked of India and though there was a lot of sadness about the erosion of democratic values there was no prescience of what we would see that evening. 

 

Eleven men — who in 2002 gang raped five members of one family and killed fourteen, including a three-year-old whose head they dashed on a stone — being garlanded outside the jail, and later at a special function held to felicitate them. 

 

Those images are etched into my brain as are the images of Bilkis Bano, the five month pregnant woman who they had raped and left for dead in 2002, was etched in then. She called these men, her neighbours, uncle and elder brother and begged for mercy, but they held her down and took turns. They raped her mother alongside her. 

 

These men were released as a celebration of our 75^th — freedom for saffron, gang rapists, and murderers in Amrit Kaal India. Remission is part of a judicial system and state governments were encouraged to set prisoners free to celebrate this 75th, but apparently gang rapists and others who had committed heinous crimes were not to be included in this. Yet a ten-member committee consisting of MLA’s and leaders of the ruling party, and government officials set all eleven rapists free. One of the MLA's said, the men were Brahmins and had good values. I don’t know if they could have done this. This about eleven men who had been tried and convicted of the crimes.

 

The rapists must have been remorseful? Nope, many are insisting they were innocent and framed by some NGO. I can guess which NGO will be named. 

 

I am shattered. I take refuge in my little email group where we share our feelings of horror and hopelessness, and exchange articles written by others similarly shattered. I am also shattered by the lack of outrage in the general public. Many too numbed, too ‘conditioned’ by the excesses of the BJP to react?

 

But what if these had been Nirbhaya’s rapists? Would society be more outraged if those men had been released? The eleven men, rapists of Bilkis Bano, looked well-fed and groomed. They were fed laddoos and themselves were distributing them just outside the jail. 

Sitting here. Stopped momentarily. When such horrific happenings do not stun citizens, I think it is time for us to take stock of who we are as a country and do something, even if we haven’t a clue where to begin.