Would this protest help?

I particularly liked the term "destructive masculinity" in The Hindu. That kind of sums it up all.

I have often written here that I am a firm believer in destiny. The girl who lost her 13 days of battle last night, had some destiny. Her ordeal was to bear the immeasurable pain (and more importantly, still keep up the willingness to live) - in order to bring her destiny to the forefront. I strong believe, it is her destiny that has awakened India. Otherwise, scary as it might sound, such kind of rapes, where the victims intestine comes out, is not rare or a first time occurrence in this glorious country of ours. I was shocked to hear about it, the first time I heard Sunitha Krishnan's speech in TED. But such incidents don't shake me up anymore.

What shook me up was the sheer helplessness. One of the many reasons I chose to stay back home and didn't travel back to Bangalore on the scheduled day, was this incident. It would sound childish to say I felt insecure. But still that remains the truth. I want to hide. Hide from this rotten society which itself knows no peace, and doesn't care to give away peace, respect and dignity to anyone.

And I decided to indulge myself. Job is not that important a thing. My well being is. I decided I won't subject myself to any mental agony till the time I am completely prepared. Small small things would trouble me for no reason. Known faces in the office. The heartless grey city of Bangalore and all its mixed memories of dust, noise and crowd. The imminent new year celebrations.

And thus started my first holiday since 2005 when I didn't have a return ticket or a plan to go back. What did I tell office? As usual, exactly what I felt. A simple, "I want to extend my leaves due to family problems". Oh, did you ask which family? My family includes my entire country, even the entire world. And nobody on earth would deny just how much problem exists currently with my family...

I would think of the tiny toddlers and lispers who died before they knew what life was like, falling prey to a maniac's whim. I would think of this girl as she had one after the other surgeries performed on her, and in between expressing that she wants to live. Live with my intestine removed? Live on intravenous fluid all my life? I get scared every time I test for my blood sugar level. In case I am found diabetic, they'd stop me from having sweets - and what is life without sweets? And here she wants to live, wants to see the criminals brought to justice, and wants people not to know what has happened to her, not to sympathize with her. She wants to live a normal life, as if nothing happened.

I used to think a strange thing during my exam days, when I was not well prepared (I can't remember one exam for which I felt I am least prepared - let alone being well prepared), or the days when mark sheets would be given to us. I used to tell myself, time will pass, after a while everything will again be normal. As I kept reading the news and reactions in the social media (I am a silent type, I can't show off or write a lot and vent out my anger - my solidarity lies in reading and shedding silent tears), I kept thinking, does she think something of this sort? Did she think on similar lines when she was being tortured, and now that she is in acute trauma, does she console herself saying this will pass? Or else, how can someone think of living, when life spells out PAIN in big bold letters?

This is what I was thinking just two days back - when she was still alive.


Give yourself a little more time...

That's what I have been telling myself since last Saturday's fiasco. Given that it has been full 5 days now, I don't know how much more time I'd need. As I have repeatedly written here, I love myself too much. I can't see myself in tears. At the same time, I don't want to give up my job, let alone that, I don't want a single day's loss of pay even. I am in no mood to look for a new job, I am not confident enough to take up some new technology at this stage of my career, and at the same time, I don't want to take advantage of my office - either the management or the colleagues, i.e. I'm not ready to sit idle and earn a salary.

And when I talk about a little more time...what is it that I mean? This has been going on for time immemorial... 

This is what I think today...she died despite her immense urge to live...the damage done was too much...

I have gained courage enough to look back at my troubles in a painless, indifferent way. Way every girl has to. Way every human being has to. You cannot deny life and live on. You have to accept, whatever life gives you. Accept and then revolt, then show bravery, then speak out, then fight. You might win the battle, you might lose. Don't let the win or the loss affect you. I am finally ready to go back. Face an employer not too interested in my services. Face myself, not too keen on working anymore. Not too keen on protesting, complaining or fighting. Face a family (an immediate family) not too supportive. Face memories and not wince (not to shout out and plead - oh don't discuss ultrasonography details with me, it reminds me of the moment I was told about the living breathing baby I couldn't save). No, I am not interested in reacting anymore. Lucky people do not realize how lucky they are. When you have suffered once, you can identify what the other victim is going through.

Yes I'd go back. And see what the world does to me, and whether I live a proper life or not. If I am indifferent, then why this dilemma? Because the world that is protesting, protests about a specific thing. They don't protest about victimization and wrongdoing in general. I have seen many guys famous for changing girlfriends like clothes, condemn the rape on Facebook in an attempt to show off. And think in their very own male chauvinistic way, oh I might have hurt a girl or two with my harmless flirting, but I have never raped anybody. I am such a great human being. The husband who probably beats his wife daily would be proud - I have never touched another girl apart from her - she should worship me. The father who denies his girl child proper education will be the self proclaimed hero - oh she'd never need to go out in the night, or do a job and face any threat of molestation. She will be safe at home till I get her married, and then let her husband deal with her. Are these people fit to be complacent? India, change your menfolks' mentality. Their thought process that so long as they don't rape, they are fit to do anything and everything with a girl in the community. NO. Girls are very delicate beings, who can tolerate labor pain but get killed a thousand times with the minutest blows that hurt their dignity. And men are very confused beings, who forget their origin, the nine months without which they wouldn't have seen the light of the day.

The corrupt BMTC bus conductors

Had a huge show down with a BMTC bus conductor today. Why on earth are they so greedy? Always on the lookout to steal money, and cheat you of your ticket? Do they have no conscience? It is a privilege to of service to the public, and they are all set to rob us. Worst thing is, not always you feel like fighting, right? I had watched Talaash, was thoughtful, a little sad, and engrossed in myself. People are in their moods at times, he could have simply handed over the ticket and left. My anger came out even more because I was in no mood to talk at that time. I blasted the person till he ran away and went to the very end of the bus. How do these guys live? Don't they feel disgusted with themselves?

And then I felt, who am I to shout? I have loved one such guy with all my faith. Perhaps it is the way of such people. To be able to sleep, with all the guilt in their mind, only because they are able to find some justification. The world, indeed, is a place for pretension. And people actually pretend to themselves as well. All the time...

November rain, all in the mind...

Once in a rare while, I do let myself get tired. Today was one such day. For God's sake, I have been fighting hard the whole month. When I came back to office on November 5th, I hardly knew how long I'd be able to survive. All I knew was my obstinate refusal to give up without trying. Oh few moments were indeed hellish, especially that long tea session in the pantry, when both of us refused to move out, and both of us refused to acknowledge each other. His laughter, my most favorite music, would be everywhere. I didn't know what he was trying to prove. Most of the times he'd stay clear of me, we bumped into each other only once, I could see this extremely defiant and cheeky look in his eyes, but I looked away and moved into the rest room. It was a distinct, "kya karloge mera, jo bigad jaoge tum", my silent "yeh na socha ttha kabhi, itne yaad aaoge tum" was helpless before him. But still, all I would think was, did I see a look of appreciation behind that veil of impertinence? Perhaps even an admiration at the way the broken girl still stands upright and still wears pink, the supposed shade of love...

Then he left. I gradually settled down. The speech and thought process had gone incoherent. There were so many instances when I was in discussion with my bosses, and was struggling for the apt word, even a close word also won't come up in my mind. I would stammer and stop midway in the sentence. I would hopelessly think, would I be any good ever?

But in my mind, I had this extreme urge to correct my mistakes. A friend, whose marriage I couldn't attend, I finally attended her housewarming ceremony, kind of to make up. Even today, a kid from my training batch pinged me and complained that I never found time to meet him when he came to Bangalore. I apologized and said, I used to be a very self-centered girl sometime back, now I am living more for myself.

Seriously I find a kind of freedom. Earlier, days would pass by in a tormented, dazed state. Will he, won't he would be my only thought and occupation. Even, once in a while when colleagues asked, so, what are weekend plans? My face would darken up...what to tell? How to tell? I don't know if he will be able to accommodate me in his busy schedule, but still I have kept my entire weekend free?

Questions still come. As usual I am still loved by the kids in the office. Di, why do you look so sady sady ever since you came back from home? Again the dilemma, what to answer, how to answer? Last year, this time my best friend had decided to kiss me, and go on kissing me till I kiss him back...and this year, same time, he has decided to hit me, and go on hitting me till I die? For he is one person who always knew, I can kiss him back, but I won't ever hit him back...No, I can't tell the story to anyone. I can't lie either. I said, I can't tell you now, perhaps I can tell it sometime, don't know when, if ever...The girl retorted...Di, I know half the story already, if you'd tell me the rest, I will also tell you something. I still maintained silence.

Silence wouldn't help at times. Standing in front of the lift I was groping for my office ID card, when I found a strip of Gelusil which we had bought, the day when I had come back from Kolkata and he came over and insisted we go out for dinner. I was dog tired from the journey, but still I complied. The strip is not even half over, and he is nowhere in my life. Then, once I got into the Hospital Canteen where we had eaten our first lunch together, the day he introduced himself to me. The place has been taken over by some other management, and the unfamiliarity made me run away from there, much to the awe of the friend who had accompanied me for lunch. Oh how could I explain, I want everything like before, else it hurts...

He has a tagline. You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. I felt blinding anger on seeing in for the first time. Lapse in morality is forgivable, a cover up isn't. I couldn't help writing to him...

You know boo boo, last year this day, this time, we were probably living our last good day together. Either, you were not living it the right way then, or you are not living it the right way now. Both cannot be true at the same time. And if any one of them is not the right way, then you haven't lived your life in the right way. No point in trying to prove otherwise. 

Either you have pretended in your whole life till now, or you are going to pretend for the rest of your life. Either ways, it is your choice. End of the day, you need to be happy, even though it is just a pretentious happiness. 

I told myself a 1000 times, I don't need to see what you turn into, after what you have done. But then, when God has created a person like you, He has also created a person like me. You remain yourself and I remain myself. Let's see at the end, how right your life turns out to be, and how wrong my life becomes. You always used to speak about that coffee meet when we are 90 years old. If that ever happens, we shall find out.

You know, I really wanted to write to you today, was remembering that Tintin movie, that ground nut festival, everything. Thanks for putting up such a wonderful status message and bringing me back to reality, at least you let me vent out my feelings.

My best friend...bestest friend...really...you proved it...

No reply. Oh why didn't I realize even after writing Justification of Insensitivity, that he doesn't feel anything. Why did I try to give life to a stone. But then, if anyone had perceived life in that stone, I had. I had seen the urge in him to live life his way, with the girl of his choice. But then he started putting conditions. He fell weak. It is not my mistake.

Every day, I would wake up from a disturbed sleep full of his dreams, and ache away to hide myself. Every day I'd tell, it is ok, we can fight it. Then for the evening, I'd plan to read, to cook, to surf the net or watch movies. Survival is such a challenge when your best friend leaves you without saying good bye.

Yet, tears had dried up. I never cried. Never in the last one month. But yes, I yearned for him. Tried to reach out to him. And at the same time, I was regaining my strength. And finally yesterday I got a chance. I had come back after a successful client presentation, and was beaming with new found confidence. The clownish guy, about whom I had written Another Hate Post, wrote me a mail, trying to patch up and invited me for lunch. He has always been the laughing stock for us. I forwarded the mail to him. He also couldn't help replying. Just a couple of lines.

ha ha.. moron of the world.. Go and have a nice food.. poor guy.. :)

At that moment, I wanted to die. I always had this wish, to die on 15th October, 2011, in his arms, with the realization that he loves me. With the realization that miracles do happen. If that could not happen, let me die knowing that he has written back to me at least once, after he abandoned me. But then, the full meaning of his conduct came crushing upon me. My best friend cannot comfort me when I am hurt, but he can join in when I am pulling someone's leg. He won't accept his weakness, but he will comfortably laugh at others. Is this the man I wanted to call my husband?

Every subsequent act of his showed me that weakness. He puts up posts on Facebook talking of courage, and taking your drawbacks in your stride, but he doesn't have guts enough to talk things out straight with a girl who loves him with her life. And as these things kept revealing, I saw my strength waning. In the evening, as a baby girl in the bus happily played with my bangles, I wanted to sink in a deep slumber. I came home and crashed on the bed. The month is over. My trial period is over. Do I chose to rest now?