A Love Story? – Chapter Four

Read Part One, Two and Three Here


As I’ve already said, life isn’t fiction. No particular moment is ever planned. Yet we end up with tales that sound as absurd as, hmm, what would be absurd. Nothing I guess. If astrologers can have outpatient department at a hospital then I guess there is nothing that is absurd anymore.

Believe it or not, one thing that influenced my life the most was violence against women. When the people who are supposed to protect you end up being the reason you lose faith in humanity, what do you do?

Few weeks ago, every social tabloid, blog, social media, news channel, they all pretty much had the same variant of one line, “Supreme court gives death to 4 for Nirbhaya rape-murder.” Seriously, am I supposed to applaud you right now? Nirbhaya. She was a one-off event, the only one who got justice. I weep every moment of my life for countless mothers, sisters. I feel suffocated in every moment.

“If the dreadfulness displayed by the accused in committing the gang rape, unnatural sex (and) insertion of iron rod in the private parts of the victim does not fall in the “rarest of rare category,” then one may wonder what else fall in that category – excerpts from one concurring judgement in Nirbhaya’s trial.”

It took you five years to realize that? Seriously? And then you ask me, why I have no faith in justice system, why I have no faith in humanity? I cannot shout loud enough, I cannot scream my lungs out. You’ll take a selfie if you sweep the streets in name of Swach Bharat Abhiyan, but it took you five fucking years to realize that?

There are hundreds of Nirbhayas around India, maybe thousands more around the globe, since when it became justifiable to give twisted psychopaths a chance to define or justify such a vile act, it was in the moment of heat, and it was under peer pressure. “The juvenile got off easy.” How about I cut your balls off and then say, “Sorry that was in the heat of moment, you fucker.” Now that would be a moment of heat, raping a girl, that’s just unforgivable, democracy or not, you deserve to be hanged for that, if it was up to me, I’ll drag you in the street and shoot you in the head and these are the emotions by simple morality. I couldn’t possibly imagine the thoughts that went through a husband’s mind, a father’s mind, I don’t want to, and maybe it isn’t a right way to seek justice even for an act that fills every fibre of us with rage, but is there any other way? I read another article today, “Gurugram: After rape horror, woman takes Metro with dead baby.

So many people ask me why I can’t stay happy, why I have to be angry all the time. You tell me, if things like that keep me awake at night, why the fuck should I soothe my anger? Why the hell should I forgive anyone? Every action I take, every thought that I cage, it’s all meant to tame my aggression. Though I fail at it horribly.

I’m not a feminist. I’m the farthest thing from it. But seriously, you killed a baby, you raped a woman and yet if you ever get caught, you’ll spend a comfortable life, behind bars, but comfortable nonetheless. But if you behave like an animal, shouldn’t you be treated like one? Why the fuck should be extend you the courtesy of decent treatment. If a loyal dog goes rabid, we euthanize him, why the hell shouldn’t we euthanize you?

Should we treat the bastards who rape one year old girls with all the respect our elderly deserves? What was wrong with that after all? It didn’t happened to me, doesn’t means it will never happen to me, in that case would I really act any different? I don’t know, seems like I might but who knows. Well till then let me respectfully pay my gratitude to the justice system who actually prefers pedophilic rapists over people who exercise free speech in name of journalism. After all, it took twenty-four hours to lodge a complaint against a comedian for making a joke .

What kind of an idiot (this self-taught one) got the false sense of grandeur to believe he or she had free speech? Censoring and respecting the beliefs of hypocrites is the only way we can redeem our society. That’s you, my dear lover of saffron fabric. That’s the only way we can make India great. The only way we can find our way back to incredible India.

These are the skeletons of society. This is the substandard of justice, this is the substandard of humanity.

But wait, you’re thinking right now, it never happened to anyone I know and it never will, right? That’s what I used to believe. That’ll never happen to anyone I know. How wrong I ended up being once I met Sandhaya.


via Daily Prompt: Substandard

IBMC #07: The News and Paper Challenge



I know, I know, I just ended up whining about my pathetic life, once again. Sorry for digressing, I’ll make it a love story in the next prompt. After all, love stories, they always sell.


4 thoughts on “A Love Story? – Chapter Four

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