India’s Daughters and Sons

The last couple of days has given a lot of fodder for the media at large, the Government of the day, the twitteratti, the armchair critics, the bhakts, the feminists, the lawyers, and the general citizenry. A filmmaker released a documentary based on the horrific, barbaric, brutal, bestial, animalistic gag rape that shook India’s collective conscience on Dec 16, 2012. Six men, one 17 years old but by no means a “juvenile”, took turns at not only raping a girl, but went on to shove iron rods inside her private parts, ripped out her innards, beat her and her friend to pulp and when done, threw her away on the streets like a used and broken rag doll. India erupted the next day and the protests went on across the country for days, forcing the Government to bring about a change in the law. Other things crept into the canvas, Jyoti Singh aka Nirbhaya was forgotten and life carried on and girls, women, infants continued to get raped and brutalised. Till Leslee Udwin made front page news about the proposed telecast of the documentary based on this rape. Titled INDIA’S DAUGHTER, the Government was quick to get outraged, the telecast was banned, BBC cocked a snook and released the documentary on YouTube, millions saw it and shared it, discussions around it tended and no one really knows who landed up with egg on his face.

I have seen the film (probably minutes before it was taken down under Court orders, and found it chilling to say the least. Chilling, but not surprised. Largely the social media discussions were woven around what one of the perpetrators, Mukesh Singh, had to say. After two years in jail for the crime, sentenced to death by hanging, appeal pending in the Supreme Court, Mukesh did not see himself as the perpetrator of the crime at all. According to him, the girl was asking for it and for the love of God, Mukesh could not understand what all the fuss was all about. Why was he in jail while many others were roaming scot free after committing similar and, according to him, more serious crimes, he asked. Sadly, no one has an answer to his question.

I tend to agree with him. The malaise is very deep rooted in India. He was unfortunate to have got caught and sentenced after the public and media outrage. My question is regarding the defence lawyers who mirrored the same sentiment Mukesh Singh was verbalising. One said that he would pour petrol on his daughter and kill her if she was found in the company of a man. Another defence lawyer was more poetic, comparing women to flowers and diamonds, their place in society and where they belong. “We are the greatest society and women have no place in that,” he said.

These are not isolated voices. There was a policeman who told a rape victim who had gone to register a case at the police station, “You are old and haggard, who will rape you?” or words to that effect. A frontline politician and a pretty powerful one at that, was horrified that just because boys make a mistake the public calls for them to be hanged.

And it is not just about the rapists, the lawyers, the policemen and the politicians. Close your eyes, put a hand on your heart and ask yourself, “Do I objectify women? Do I know of any friend of mine who objectifies women?” You might be surprised to hear the answers your conscience tells you. As a community we ogle at women, we lech at them, while in the company of friends we revel at extolling the physical virtues they possess. Be honest, have you never heard yourself or your friends say things like, “Look at that ass, man” or “What lips” or “That mouth was made for a blow job” or “She gives me a bone every time I think of her or see her” or “Look at those nips struggling against her top”. We make jokes about a deep cleavage being one thing you can look down upon and yet enjoy. How many of us would walk away from a fashion show featuring wet white T-shirts? There was an advertisement a few years ago where a friend was asking another friend to test a microphone with the statement “What legs” just as a girl passed by. We all enjoyed it and life went on.

We all like women. We will be lying if we said that much of this liking does not evolve from lust. The more “educated” you become, you couch it and sugar coat it in more “acceptable” language. Somehow for PLUs (People Like Us) Motherfucker is less objectionable than Madarchod. Though, many of us freely use the vernacular in daily speech, without prejudice or malice. Like the politician said, “Boys will be boys.” But the fact remains that all of us (all maybe an exaggeration) objectify women. The form varies, the manner varies, the language varies, the intent varies, the action varies, but we do it nevertheless. How can we blame Mukesh Singh and his ilk who ends up venting his loin’s desires after a couple of hours spent watching some actress or the other gyrating her pelvis and tracing her bosom on a 70mm screen to words like “Main aayee hoon UP aur Bihar lootne” or some such other ludicrously seductive and provocative lyrics? Mukesh Singh probably does not have an opportunity to vent his frustrations other than go to a seedy underworld brothel which does not even come close to his fantasies, except to release his rising frustrations coursing through his loins. He is not having intercourse with the prostitute ... in his mind he is making love to and subjugating that actress he saw on screen. And let us not just blame Mukesh Singh. How many educated, urban, wealthy guys do you know who fantasise about some Hollywood actress or the other? Probably many. We hear of wife swapping in high end parties. There are escort services. There are private mujras. The flesh trade is alive and kicking in India. The rich can afford to pay for what they want, the poor end up raping.

INDIA’S DAUGHTER is really a mirror about the Indian male psyche. It will be wrong to confine the discussion to the contents of the documentary. We need to look deeper, hear the silence between the words to understand that what the documentary is doing, whether willingly or unwillingly, is showing us the malaise that has eroded the very sense of what human decency is all about, as far as women are concerned. It is not about Mukesh Singh the rapist. And it is not about Jyoti Singh, the unfortunate victim. It is about you and me. We can continue to hold candlelight marches, hold up placards, brave the water cannons, blame the politicians, nothing will change till the time we do not accept that each and every one of us is to blame for objectifying women and seeing them from the perspective of lust. Some of us more than others, but lust there is. Sex is as old as humankind. Prostitution, they say is the world’s oldest profession. One of the rewards of war was the opportunity to pillage and plunder the conquered kingdoms and to rape the women of the vanquished. Women became slaves to the conquerors, to be done with as they saw fit. Sex is a part of the human psyche and the sooner we recognise it and come to terms with it the better. We need to understand and realise that women are objects of lust and that all of us are guilty of that. Is it correct? Of course not. Should something be done about it? Most certainly. Will society change? It must. Will we suddenly start looking at women like the Goddesses we paint them out to be in our places of worship? I do not see that happening in my lifetime.

What does need to happen is a societal change about a lot more things than just looking at rape in isolation. We have to look at poverty. We have to look at education, particularly the girls. We have to look at equality. We have to look at gender not as opposites but as assets.

Debates and discussions and comments and articles talk about the whether or not the woman should be held responsible for who she is with, at what time of the day or night, what she is wearing, whether she is drinking, whether she demonstrates any public displays of affection, etc. Some say that it is the answers to these questions that will either save her from getting raped or end up getting her raped. Neither the question nor the answer is simple. No, a woman does not get raped because of what she wears. Just because she is seen in the company of a male friend after sunset, does not automatically make her a person of questionable character. She has as much right to a drink as her male counterparts. There are infants getting raped and no one can apply these reasons as to why that happens. No, it has little to do with the time of day or the clothes she wears. It is the warped mind of the rapists that rapes. Yet, the powers that be and the other sundry custodians of our faith and culture opine that women should dress a certain way or else they risk being raped. That logic is laughable at best and needs to be tossed into the garbage along with the person making such a suggestion.

However, and this is a big however. We live in a society where rape is prevalent. Is there any girl who has not been fondled in a DTC bus on her way to college? It has nothing to do with her dress, but more to do with the congenital (maybe “genital” is a more apt word) defect in the Indian male. Let me first take the example of dress. Dress appropriately, I say. I would not expect to see anyone, male or female, jump into a swimming pool dressed in their Sunday best. I expect them to be appropriately attired in swimming trunks. I do not want to impose a sari to walk on the beach. I do not wish to see a person in floaters and torn jeans at an evening ball where one is expected to be appropriate attired for the occasion. Personally, I do not like to see underpants hanging out from over the jeans anywhere at all, male or female. I wonder if they think that the underwear people pick up from the flea market is worth displaying to the rest of the world! I disagree with this form of rebellion, but that is just me. Go ahead and exhibit your underwear if you desire, but do so at the proper forum. There is a certain dress code demanded by certain places to maintain the dignity and the decorum of that place. We should not push the boundaries of liberty too far. I would not like to see anyone in swimming trunks in a place of worship for instance. But one can argue, that it is a personal choice and preventing such attire impinges on personal freedom. I am just saying dress appropriately for the place and the occasion.

Let me now talk about late nights. For boys and for girls. There is nothing wrong with that. When I am talking late nights here, I am talking about a party among friends. It could be in someone’s house or it could be in a pub or a disco. The boundaries are defined, the audience is largely known and symbiotic. Things are lively, drinks are flowing, people are singing and dancing and having a good time. There is nothing wrong with that. Things start going South when people lose control. Probably by drinking too much. Both boys and girls are guilty or over estimating their capacity to hold their drinks. Even so, given the audience that is largely within known circles, things do not get out of hand.

What sometimes happens is that this revelry extends beyond the boundaries of the venue. Couple get into their vehicles and the party continues. The back seat becomes active and a lot of cuddling and necking (and more) ends up happening ON PUBLIC ROADS. That is when the Mukesh Singhs of the world are unleashed. What Mukesh Singh saw on screen is suddenly unfolding right in front of his eyes in the car ahead. Here is his fantasy being handed down to him. The couple in the back seat drive away leaving Mukesh Singh in an enraged, engorged, excited state, looking for ways and means to vent. If there is an unfortunate Jyoti Singh he encounters, Nirbhaya happens. Boys and girls. By all means enjoy, but do so within the confines of a confined space. Do not display your physical love for each in the back seat of a car or on a park bench or in the darkness of a movie hall. We might want to believe that it is our life and our business, but we as a people have still not evolved to a state where we can believe that everyone will view such public displays of affection with indifference or equanimity.

Jyoti Singh is not India’s daughter. She is what she is (or was) despite India and what the State gave her. She was trying to fight the odds. She wanted to make it in a world dominated by men. She did all shes could to break through the ceiling of poverty. Her family not only supported her but sold their land to finance her education. It was but a few weeks away when she would have become a doctor and the family’s days of poverty would have been behind them. But alas, the Indian State failed her. The bus in which she was brutalised passed through police check points without being questioned. After her naked body was thrown out as garbage, no one came to help despite her feeble cries. Fearing public outrage and a deteriorating law and order situation, the Government deemed it fit to fly her out of the country to die. Her mortal remains were consecrated to flames secretly in the dead of night.

No, Jyoti Singh is not India’s Daughter. India belongs solely to her sons. The documentary should have been titled SONS OF INDIA, because a majority of the sons of India think almost in the same manner as Mukesh Singh does. Sure, many of the sons would stand at India Gate holding a candle, raising a placard, shouting slogans decrying the depths at which society has fallen. But many of the same sons will go back home and make money for an international porn star with ambitions of becoming a frontline Bollywood heroine. The SONS OF INDIA are more interested in a Baby Doll waltzing in through their doors, at least in their fantasies.

India and the world will not change in a hurry as far as how we treat women are concerned. And that is the sad reality. But we can try and make the country a relatively safer place for women than what it is now. For that the powers that be need to stop acting like a dick is growing out of their forehead. They have to stop sticking their head where the sun does not shine and do something about the situation. Instead of getting outraged at a documentary about a rape incident, they should be outraged about rape itself. Name the rapists, shame the rapists, bring them to justice in a short span of time and make examples of them. Punishment to the one that gets caught is unfortunately no deterrent in the short term. But with visible and swift punishment being meted out with increasing regularity and frequency to the ones that do get caught, maybe the incidences of rape will go down. Will it go away entirely? I doubt it, history is against it. Accept this fact and do everything in your power to put the bad apples away.

And what about the SONS OF INDIA? Let us take a pledge that we will not get excited by juicy melons or the luscious lips or the never ending legs. Let us wake up and smell the apples rotting in our own backyard before getting outraged at the way the world will look at India after seeing a documentary film. As if the world does not know already that India and Delhi is considered the rape capital of the world.