I saw the BBC documentary last night. Slept over it. Or did I? The guilt is unparallel. The guilt of being one of the 'men', the guilt of not knowing what to do, the guilt of not knowing what I could do barring hope, barring pray. Sadly, that's the routine we've inherited, some prey while others pray.
I saw her mother cry tears of humanity. I tried putting myself in her shoes, yet thinking why am I doing this? Why do I have to place myself in a position so that I understand the gravity of a cause? Why can't we just deal with our regular struggles like inflation and traffic and just that? Why is there so much pain around us? If death has to come, if death is already painful, why add to the misery by pulling out organs from their bodies? Why do you get to teach us a lesson? Why do you get to decide that I don't become a doctor? Why do you get to decide that my parents don't need a daughter anymore? Why? Also, why are there people out there who let you?
The lawyers. Thanks to this documentary, the words 'politicians', 'smugglers', and 'gangsters' don't seem so cold. I understand that like a doctor- like Jyoti, a lawyer can't judge their clients & they have to defend them nevertheless. But hi, meet morals, meet conscious, meet sympathy, will you? Is there a strand of shame left on your body? You'll burn my mother, my sister, my wife, my daughter alive for you can? How on earth are you guys even allowed to function for an authority that concerns our laws, our government? Oh I forgot, the government. One that's not hesitant on imposing bans on the use of a transistor radio covering a guy's penus, but can't morally police its own ministers, lawyers and judges representing the idea called India. How are they not fighting their own battle in these courts, charged with instigating riots, publically admitting to the possibility of them committing a crime, publically admitting to women having no place in our society, or for just being alive and breathing amongst us?
I still don't know what to do but to write, to hope, to pray, to educate my near ones, to cry, or to continue living- or just existing for Jyoti's parents? I don't know, I sadly don't. I know what made me write this and yet I regret every bit of it. I regret this happened, I regret I feel sorry for someone, I regret being a man, I regret the world doesn't know what being a man really means. Jyoti, I regret you couldn't set up that hospital in your village, I regret you can't watch any more movies, I regret that you didn't just get hit by lightning instead. Her parents, I regret your problems never met an end, I regret those bastards are still alive, I regret rapes still happen, I regret-I'm sorry your daughter, one of us, is no more.
I saw her mother cry tears of humanity. I tried putting myself in her shoes, yet thinking why am I doing this? Why do I have to place myself in a position so that I understand the gravity of a cause? Why can't we just deal with our regular struggles like inflation and traffic and just that? Why is there so much pain around us? If death has to come, if death is already painful, why add to the misery by pulling out organs from their bodies? Why do you get to teach us a lesson? Why do you get to decide that I don't become a doctor? Why do you get to decide that my parents don't need a daughter anymore? Why? Also, why are there people out there who let you?
The lawyers. Thanks to this documentary, the words 'politicians', 'smugglers', and 'gangsters' don't seem so cold. I understand that like a doctor- like Jyoti, a lawyer can't judge their clients & they have to defend them nevertheless. But hi, meet morals, meet conscious, meet sympathy, will you? Is there a strand of shame left on your body? You'll burn my mother, my sister, my wife, my daughter alive for you can? How on earth are you guys even allowed to function for an authority that concerns our laws, our government? Oh I forgot, the government. One that's not hesitant on imposing bans on the use of a transistor radio covering a guy's penus, but can't morally police its own ministers, lawyers and judges representing the idea called India. How are they not fighting their own battle in these courts, charged with instigating riots, publically admitting to the possibility of them committing a crime, publically admitting to women having no place in our society, or for just being alive and breathing amongst us?
I still don't know what to do but to write, to hope, to pray, to educate my near ones, to cry, or to continue living- or just existing for Jyoti's parents? I don't know, I sadly don't. I know what made me write this and yet I regret every bit of it. I regret this happened, I regret I feel sorry for someone, I regret being a man, I regret the world doesn't know what being a man really means. Jyoti, I regret you couldn't set up that hospital in your village, I regret you can't watch any more movies, I regret that you didn't just get hit by lightning instead. Her parents, I regret your problems never met an end, I regret those bastards are still alive, I regret rapes still happen, I regret-I'm sorry your daughter, one of us, is no more.
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