Disclaimer : The following post is a tad different from the normal contents of this blog. These words represent my own personal sentiments and thoughts, and are not in any way meant to invoke anger, indignity or resentment.
When I say rape is a reality, I mean that it is not something that should shock us. It is not an isolated incident that ought to catch our attention from time and time, when the act has enough associated brutality to command media attention. It is not an enigma. It is not a strange occurance. And it is definitely not a sign of patriarchy.
It is just like murder. Just like robbery. Just like bullying. Just like any other instance where humans repudiate the rights of another, and refuse to respect the worth of their lives, their space, their belongings, their existence, irrespective of race or religion or gender.
And just like murderers and robbers and bullies, rapists are everywhere. Sadists are everywhere. It might be a stranger, a friend, a lover, a relative or a coworker. It can happen at home, at school, at college, at office or on vacation. Stop pretending. Halt the flow of those million candles that weep for a forsaken girl only to die out into oblivion, like she did. It was just another news headline. Let it be what it is. Stop the hypocritical battle cries that call for the death of one, when a thousand others disappear unheeded. The molestation of a fifty year old deserves as much wrath as that of a ten year old. But then, that story isn’t half as spicy, and lie hidden in the folds of her skirts untold, for she would rather it didn’t end up in a crumpled newspaper that caught no attention anyway.
So I tell you, treat it as what it is. A crime, yes, but not one to make a hue and cry about. Not a tale to be sung in blood-red tones of fury, till a better one comes along.
So I demand, treat it as it is. A routine affair. Not a shadow lurking in the alleyways of our utopia, but one that shines so bright it blinds us with the sheer brilliance of mockery and human pathos. A reality as palpable as my sweaty palms when I turn a shady street corner, and tangible as my feet that hurry on its own accord, as my heart, once home is far. A truth as real as the catch of my breath when a group of men shoot a glance along my lonely way. I hold my purse tight and myself tighter, for deny as I may, I know it awaits somewhere in the near unknown.
So I beg you, treat it as what it is: unexceptional news. Rape is average, commonplace and ordinary. Stop inflating its importance to monstrous proportions so that she has to cower under attention forever rather than being allowed to rewind her life to back to normalcy. Stop feeding her chunks of debauchery draped in hedonistic sympathy and let her be, instead.
I am here to tell you rape is a reality. It is not an event reserved for that random stranger who happened to be at an unfortunate place at an unfortunate time. Anyone can get kidnapped or robbed or killed. And anyone can get raped.
It may happen to you. And if it does, know that you are not alone. You are not a victim. You are not scarred for life. You are not flawed. You are one of a zillion who refuse to bow down to what life hands you. More importantly, you’re in every way stronger than the men who overpowered you. They were just a bunch of bullies, retards, who have no control over their own thoughts and actions. Show the world and yourself that you are so much more.
It may happen to me. And if it does, please just let me too keep my head held high still and march on.