Please don’t misunderstand me when I say that I’m not sure just how much more of this I can take. I’m not being precious or anything. Simply, I’m not sure how much horror can we all take. How much anguish. How much revulsion.
I’m talking, of course, about the seemingly non-stop horror story of rape and abuse and murder that is taking place in India.
I am not a victim.
I am not a doctor or a social worker having to deal with these horrors.
I am simply a pampered old lady whose heart breaks every time she opens her newspaper.
I can quickly turn the page, of course, and pretended that the disgusting violence and brutality hasn’t happened.
But that would be beyond cowardly.
Trying to pretend all is well in this country when it so clearly isn’t.
If I hear another person – invariably a man – tell me that rape has probably always happened in India, it’s just that people are talking about it now, I might just scream.
I DO NOT GIVE A TOSS WHETHER RAPE HAS HISTORICALLY ALWAYS HAPPENED.
DO NOT TELL ME THAT PROBABLY THE SITUATION HAS ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS, IT’S JUST THAT RAPE IS BEING REPORTED MORE.
I WANT THIS UNENDING HORROR STORY TO STOP! AND NOW.
And no, I don’t know what to do to stop it.
I don’t know how to make a lumbering justice system wake up and speed up and convict.
I don’t know how to shame our venal politicians into speaking out on this societal evil.
I don’t know what punishment should be given to the rapists…well, actually, between you and me, I do know what I’d do if I were in charge, but I’m just a disenfranchised mother of a daughter, so what do my views count for?
There is something beyond evil about what is taking place in this country, and unless something is done – and soon – I dread to think how this violence will end.
I am sick to my stomach.
All of these articles are in one newspaper, the Hindustan Times, today.
One. Day’s. Crop.