Why we must never forget the girl from Kathua
It has been about four months since the gruesome rape and murder of the 8-year-old from Kathua, came to light. As the chilling details about what transpired in the five days when she was held in captivity began to emerge, it almost felt like humanity, as we know it, had been pushed to the point of no return. What could have possibly justified such barbarity? Why did a section of people try to rationalise the heinous crime? In what way could a religion, if reports are to be believed, sanction rape as an instrument of revenge?
While we try to look for answers to these questions, let us commit the little girl to memory. Let us not forget those innocent, haunting eyes. Let us not forget that purple dress with beautiful yellow flowers. Let us not forget how the chirpy little bird fell victim to the vultures of flesh.
She revealed the bigotry which pervades our minds
Even before the dust settled, alternate narratives began to surface from the realms of those who consider themselves literate. The Jammu Bar association demanded an “impartial” CBI inquiry because the caged parrot would obviously not aid and abet a cover-up. They even went to the extent of blaming the mainstream media of turning a property dispute into national outrage. It was just a murder, they said, not rape — as if killing a child and sparing her the ordeal of a sexual assault was any less vicious.
Charge sheets were stopped from being filed, forensic evidence was discarded, the integrity of the investigative officers was questioned and every trick in the book was used to discredit the victim and provide legitimacy to the accused. What’s unfortunate was that all of this came from a set of people who were technically supposed to uphold and defend the constitutional principles.
But then, who cares for mere technicalities when emotions run amok?
How their conscience overlooked the sheer savagery of the crime is beyond my understanding. Clearly, it wasn’t their little girl. It was someone else’s. She could very well serve as collateral damage in a concocted fight.
She held a mirror to evil leadership
For the first time in Indian history, two ministers of the ruling party walked hand in hand with the family of the accused, protesting their arrest. The tricolour was ferociously waved to signify that this was an issue of (toxic) nationalism. Not only was no action taken against the erring ministers but it is now being said that their forced resignations might be reversed too. Patriotism is indeed a criminal’s best defence.
As if this weren’t enough, borrowing a leaf from the book of his predecessor, the prime minister chose to maintain a deafening silence. After a few days, he made an ambiguous statement about women safety and justice but his Mann ki baat soliloquy failed to either address the specifics of the case or list concrete steps to deal with the raging issue. To top it, many other members of his Cabinet, including a very vocal “Yale diploma holder”, donned the cloak of sheer indifference.
Some even went on to trigger a competition between a Hindu rape and a Muslim rape, as if one was less vile than the other. That none of these rapes should have happened in the first place seemed to be of least concern to anyone.
After all, the little girl was not Nirbhaya, another victim for whom prominent members of the present dispensation had taken up the cudgels in 2012. Neither was she a political tool who could conveniently be used as a medium to reap electoral rewards. Condemnation came easy when the current lot was in the opposition.
When in government, conspiracy was a good way to shove each one of their failings down people’s throats.
She laid bare the fault lines which trigger divisions in our society
To say that religion had nothing to do with this horrific crime would be a gross misreading of the case. The simple fact that the child was raped inside a temple’s premises was enough proof to determine that the act was meant to send out a “message” to the “other”. Comply or face the consequences. Moreover, the defence of the accused was organised by an entity called the Hindu Ekta Manch — which, going by its name, doesn’t sound very secular.
Surprisingly, this was not an all-male group. Quite a number of women too marched in tacit support of the rapists. Defending their own was evidently a greater priority than justice. How could they let their sons, brothers and husbands be arrested for a crime they may have committed? Clearly, they were worthy of benefit of doubt. The little girl must have instigated them. Otherwise, they were good men. Polite until provoked.
Quite recently, the flimsy explanations of these rape apologists have been picked up by a couple of news channels, which, either due to complete devotion or because of their shareholding structure, act as a public broadcaster of government propaganda.
They have begun to use this crime as a tool to malign a community and acquit another. As far as the eye can see, this nexus is huge and the constant efforts being made to poison the minds of a vulnerable population are very real.
Once again, she has forced us to think
In a fit of anger and rage, everyone seems to be demanding capital punishment for the rapists. While the thought of trading violence for violence sounds ideal, the threat of being killed by the system has never proven to be an effective deterrent. If it was, there would be no murders.
More importantly, capital punishment is meant to be curative. It comes into the picture only after the crime has taken place. However, if we, as a society, need to get rid of rape culture, we need to think along the lines of prevention and as bizarre as it may sound, this must begin at home.
When a father tells his daughter to “dress properly”, he reinforces the notion that “inappropriate” clothing arouses passions. When a mother teaches a girl to choose kitchen over workplace, she inadvertently helps her serve patriarchy. When a man uses “Choodiyan pehen rakhi hain kya” as a way to signify inaction, he impresses upon others that the hands that wear bangles are weak. When a boy chooses to speak a language laden with expletives referring to women, he subtly strengthens the annals of chauvinism. When a film propounds a hypermasculine “Bhai” whose heroines are nothing more than sidekicks, it consolidates the idea of objectification. And these are just a few examples of everyday discrimination. Subtle but deep.
Until we cleanse our minds and homes of these embedded prejudices, rapes would continue to be used as a medium to exercise power over the female body; a way to “teach them a lesson”; a method to enforce conformity.
As a more macabre crime occurs, we will probably forget the little girl and move on. She would just be relegated to the deep, dark portals of social media and be remembered as a top trend on a major pornographic website. Justice for her might arrive someday but it would do nothing to stop her muffled cries, ease the pain of her last moments or compensate for a life brutally cut short.
Dear child, as painful as it is to hear, you were perhaps a little less than India’s daughter. You were India’s shame. You didn’t die of your own accord. We, as a nation, failed you.
And for that, no apology will ever be enough.