Ankit Saxena murder case: Do not ignore Shehzadi
Ankit was 23 years old, the sole earning member of his family.
The murder of Ankit Saxena, a 23-year-old photographer in New Delhi, allegedly by the father of the girl he loved, has once again brought to fore many things that are shameful in India – a family committing murder because their daughter "overstepped boundaries", onlookers busy filming an assault rather than helping the victim, and the recent, sinister trend of social media score-keeping - of deaths and victims' religion.
The aftermath of the crime saw communal tensions heat up, politicians and the Bajrang Dal get involved, and Ankit’s own family speak out against the communalisation of their tragedy. Amid all this, no one seems to be talking about the young person whose world has come crashing down – 20-year-old Shehzadi, whose boyfriend is dead, whose family is in jail for killing him, and who, since the day of the crime, has been forced to stay at the police station, scared of what her family will do to her and her wary relatives unwilling to take her in.
Justice for Shehzadi
A report in The Indian Express quotes Shehzadi's aunt as saying: “She kept crying, she was delirious… We told police we can’t take her home with us. She kept asking about Ankit, her parents and said it was all over for her.” With the murder being branded with communal overtones, Shehzadi’s relatives are afraid they will be targeted by angry mobs if she comes over to their homes.
We all know Shehzadis – young, constrained by patriarchal, regressive families, but daring to transgress, the rebellion often materialising as a forbidden love affair. According to reports, Shehzadi’s family would not let her step out of the house alone, had previously fixed her marriage to someone else, had moved house when they got a whiff of her relationship with Ankit.
The story has other familiar details – Shehzadi was forbidden from talking to Ankit, he gave her a mobile phone she would keep hidden. On January 31, her brother, 16, came across some text messages exchanged between her and Ankit. There was a major row at home, but the next day, she locked her father and brother in the house and went to meet Ankit. They managed to come out, went to the Saxenas’ home, and in the ensuing quarrel, her father allegedly stabbed Ankit to death.
Shehzadi’s father, mother and uncle have been arrested, while her minor brother has been detained. However, instead of sympathy, the girl has been receiving brickbats on social media, for Ankit’s death, and for driving her family to crime.
Ankit should get justice. But while the Delhi government has assured them legal help, no one so far has spoken of justice to Shehzadi – who has been wronged by her own family, and by a regressive, patriarchal society. Shehzadi does not deserve to live out her life under the shadow of an event she is not responsible for. We do not know if her family holds a grudge against her for what has happened. She is the pivotal character in a crime that unscrupulous elements are trying to communalise. Yet, no arrangements have so far been made to counsel and protect her.
That no one is talking about what happens to her shows how little of the society’s mind-space women and their rights still occupy.
The blot of honour killing
Crimes such as this one are not new to India. Far too often, we have heard of young people killed, women raped, for challenging the established social order, and for bringing shame upon their families, by choosing their own partners.
According to a statement made in December 2016 by the government in Parliament, India registered an almost 800 per cent rise in “honour killings” from 2014 to 2015.
The country fails its young people every time such a crime is committed, and the accused get some sympathy from the society for being “driven” to it. India fails its diversity and plurality every time a person is punished for choosing a partner from outside the straightjackets of caste and community.
Women have to tread a dual threat – the danger of physical violence, and the social and psychological trauma of being branded the “bad woman” who brought shame and destruction to her loved ones.
Ankit Saxena’s murder saw another deliberate, dangerous spin given to it – of a violent Muslim man killing a Hindu boy. This discourse turns the narrative into a clash of communities, and ignores the individuals at the centre of it. But justice for Ankit will be incomplete till the society and the administration can give justice to Shehzadi too, and to the many other young people like them.