Heal The Scars

It is my first attempt at writing a blog. It has always intrigued me- the art of writing is such. I would be grateful to receive your comments regarding my work. I do not want to initiate by touching upon a topic that is, in many ways, controversial and can even prove to be a lacklustre subject for many. Yet I have never been one to confirm to rules and well, I am proud of being an iconoclast.

         I come from the land called India. Seventeen years of my life has been spent being a regular yet anomalous teenager. Next year, I leave my home town to experience college (hopefully, unless, god forbid I flunk in my board examinations!). Probably a metro or probably one of those trivial yet significant towns which leaped to fame through Chetan Bhagat books. I would be lying if I said I do not want it to be a big city. Spending all my teenage years in a small town, the grass obviously looks greener on the other side for me.

            Two years back, it was Delhi. The capital of India. Where I could explore the best of India. I actually had no idea about the city and how it was. But I imagined it would be an experience worth having. Till the papers flooded with the macabre rape stories, the hideous crimes profuse in every street of the city, the images as proofs of the crimes and finally the Nirbhaya case that broke open the gates of anger floods all over the country.

         I changed my mind. Delhi is not the place for a teenage girl to study or live in. You see I was enraged too, not that I did anything. Not that anybody did anything. Well, at least not something beneficial. I could not comprehend how changing Facebook profile pictures or organizing sudden candle marches could change anything. Nobody did anything to heal their scars- the scars of the victims, of their families, of their friends, of people who loved them.

         Now let me take you back to what happened last week. It was a humid Saturday evening- a tuition day. I was busy liking my best friend’s status on Facebook when I heard loud giggles and laughter. I caught a glimpse of a pretty girl in a T-shirt and shorts walking away from a crowd of despicable lowlifes who invited her with wolf whistles and crude comments. Not an abnormal sight nowadays. But a sight that does not fail to tug at the strings of my heart every time I think about it.

          I live in a society infested with hypocrites. Hypocrites who say harassers should be castrated and yet fail to gain enough courage to raise their voice when it happens right in front of their eyes. Yes, avert your eyes and pretend you were not looking when the auto driver was ogling at the girl’s chest. Pretend you did not hear when they call out to you in a not-so-polite manner. Hush your daughter if she tries to retaliate. “Scene mat create karo( Do not create a scene)”, you say. What choice will you have if the harasser gets encouraged by your silence and crosses the line amidst a crowd of strangers in the street? Scold your daughter for wearing a “dress like that”?

           I would myself be supporting hypocrisy if I say that I haven’t obliged in the aforementioned acts. There are many a time that I have ignored such “trivial” matters. But I think it is time for me to change. For us to change. Hell, this has become such a common slogan that many of us lay deaf ears upon this monotone. For those of you out there who do not care, thank you for making us realize how alone we actually are in this world full of charlatans. If my message is not yet clear to you, please watch the trailer of the upcoming movie “Kill The Rapist?”  :  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-M28z7JefCA

       Take some time to visit the above link. A conclusion is not required here; I have learnt that actions do speak louder than words. It is hard for me as a frequent writer to accept that but unfortunately, that is how life works.

       Have the recent news affected you? How could we contribute as an individual to erase this malpractice from our society? Readers, I would love to know your views.




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