This city needs a vigilante.
This city needs to wake up to several mornings of mutilated bodies of criminals splayed on the sidewalks.
If I had a gun and If I had the resources I’d shoot them all in the head. The rapists, the molesters, the ones who got arrested and the ones who sit at home smiling. If i only had a way, If i only had an ounce of authority or power.
Delhi has now crossed limits and boundaries and I think it is time that people take actions.
A man touches you on the bus, push a knife into his stomach. He looks at you wrongly, gouge his eyes out.
You just simply cannot wait for your “leaders” to make things right. Our leaders are nothing but an infestation of pests. The question or the debate is no longer about BJP or Congress because it is almost like choosing between two evils.
It doesn’t matter who is more corrupt or more honest or whatever because at the end of the day they all live by the same principles. They are all purchasable.
Women, you should kill all the men you see, in true honesty I feel that none of us deserve to live anymore. Maybe with our end the plague will die out, maybe things will change because otherwise I’m sure that everything in this world is corruptible.
India is a country that borrows vastly from its past, such has oft been said about the country that I currently live in. Why India? Let us not anglicise the term, let us call the land Hindustan as our forefathers used to call it.
The past has shown women who speak for and think of themselves to be immoral and villainous; it is not I who is saying this. Go read the Mahabharata, the Ramayana or any Indian Scripture for that matter. On one hand our forefathers worshipped goddesses and on the other they condemned those who resembled embodiments of these very goddesses.
Women who are portrayed as the Perfect Woman in these epics are enormously beautiful, insanely willing to give service and totally dependent. They part that strikes as absolutely stupid is where the Evil Woman is neither beautiful nor willing to give and yet totally dependent on the males. A weird patriarchal society had been wrought by our forefathers that had no important place for women even though some parts of the Vedas argue.
The sex-appropriate ideals that are prominent throughout The Ramayana were a reflection of the patriarchal values that structured ancient Indian society. By placing the characteristics of the virtuous woman in stark contrast with the behaviours of men and immoral women, the epic attempts to justify the superiority of men and the subordination of women. This design also imparts upon the audience that the worth of a woman is measured by her beauty and the pleasure she can provide to her husband, and that her value was found through him rather than through herself.
Sita, in the Ramayana was captured by Ravana due to Rama’s foolishness and yet it has her character that came into question. It was she who had to take the “Fire’s Test” to prove herself. In this respect I find Ravana to be a better man than the ideal Rama, at least Ravana never forced himself upon the woman.
There are numerous examples in the glorious past of this country that detail the horrific crimes that have taken place on women. The “Nagarvadhu” was an elaborate concept detailed by our horny forefathers. A woman was chosen to be the “Nagarvadhu” or bride of the city, her work was to provide sexual satisfaction to anyone who came a knocking at her door. As I write this I am afraid that a religious fanatic of a political party might come across this and tell the world about this as a certain measure to stop rape in the present day.
India is actually one of the few countries in the world to have propaganda for “Religious Prostitution” in the ancient times. Pre-Pubescent Girls were married off to the Temple Idols and very conveniently had to service the priests, devotees and wayfarers.
Moving on to the medieval age, it simply does not matter because nobody in today’s society has heard of Razia Sultana, Durgavati, Mirabai and it has no effect on the minds of the people either.
The British oppression further widened the rifts between classes and turned women into objects. The British chased after the so-called “Dark Skinned Beauties” and raped them in front of their families, sometimes they had orgies where the family of the woman were called as servers. The situation was quite horrific. The British afraid of these facts leaking out did an about turn and started blaming the Indian men for blaming their women, this further aggravated the Indian Public and during the Revolt of 1857, nobody was spared.
The last thing that actually ruined things was the interpretation of women in Indian Cinema. Indian Cinema has always, and I repeat ALWAYS shown Rape as something that a woman enjoys after initial refute. You see a woman in a helpless situation with the rapist having a big smile on his face. The woman initially says no but then she is show kneading her toes into the bed which is shown as a sign of enjoyment. This is disgusting.
After the incident, either the rapist is never caught or the victim never tells anyone to save her face in the society or something equally absurd. Even if she gets justice it is only due to a timely intervention of the hero.
On the same terms we should make a certain movie compulsory for every boy in this country, a certain movie called Zakhmi Aurat. See this gorgeous review and synopsis about this movie – http://bollywooddeewana.blogspot.in/2009/10/zakhmi-aurat-1988.html
So either you people raise your kids well or I’m going to go around showing this film to your kids and explaining to them what rape is, what castration is and how to respect women properly. It is a fair warning to all you people who read this and I’ll soon be interacting with those that cannot possibly read my blog.
This post is a ramble, I wrote non-stop and vented out everything in my head at once. I will not give solutions because those are debatable. I have listed a possible chain of events and perpetrators that have ruined society but it is not meant for blaming the above reasons for their actions. I am not defending anybody. If I had my way I would make them public examples of ridicule, shame and horror but then I am just an enraged 22 year old and my views hardly matter to the important people. Read this, discuss this, critique my views but before you drag me to the gallows for writing blasphemous things, do something to bring about a change in you. I’m not defaming anyone or anything, not even breaking any IPC. If however I am found guilty of doing so, arrest me.
She crept up silently from her bed and dusted the night’s madness off her self. It was an eerie hour of dawn and she began preparing her mind for the ordeal that lay ahead. She got off her tiny bed and looked out the window of her cramped little room.
The vastness of the view seemed to fight her meek existense, as if to sound out a challenge. She closed the shutters and rid herself of the prying eyes, the soul less glares. She tiptoed towards the bathroom stealing glances behind her, trying to find shadows in the non existent crevices of her dingy room. The shower welcomed her with warmth against the chill of the city.
She stood beneath the running water, a lifeless form, castrating thoughts, memories and distinguished nightmares from her mind. She was fighting it all but she knew today will be her last. She made herself a cocoon with the towel and wore her everyday clothes, a jeans, a t-shirt and the power to endure all.
She gathered her bag and left the room, her sad eyes scanned the room knowing that the room, her world might get lost today. She tiptoed down the stairs and into the open road, into the freedom.
Her clothes felt weird on her body, in reality she felt naked as she watched each man she passed by, strip her with his eyes. She pulled her clothes in tighter, afraid that they’ll be taken away in a horrible sort of way. She passed by more lecherous men and with time the glares got stronger, almost open challenging her chastity. Lewd actions had started making their presence felt, gestures of breast gropes and other horrid fantasies.
She felt like a hamster in a cage, running on a wheel to no result. Her mind fluttered in her darkness as her body took part in material erotica of the people she passed by. A crowd was approaching and as she was being justled from side to side she felt lingering touches on her breasts and bottom. Uncomfortable as she was, she had no choice, it was a ritual almost.
She remembered the senile old man who groped as she was touching his feet, the roadside romeos who pulled out their appendages even without any provocation from her side. The cars with black tinted windows who stopped beside her asking how much she took for the night. Men with their mind in the gutters, men whose head were still held high.
She looked behind abruptly and saw three men following her closely with evident malicious intent. She saw the gate on her left, it was close. Perhaps she should run but that would show her weakness. She walked on at a quiet pace, her ears rejecting the bile that came from the mouths of the men.
She saw the men catch up to her, she flanked to her right and entered the gate. She had reached college, she was safe another day, her life returned to her.
She would live for another day, her life was still safe but she would have to endure it again. Tomorrow, day after, day after day, such has become the existence of women in our horrid society.
Written on the eve of Women’s Day.