Untitled
We call India our “motherland”. I don’t know how the word “motherland” sounds to rest of my fellow citizens but to me it sounds feminine. India is a place where people, both men and women equally, believe in female divinity. The number of goddesses and female deities rival those of ancient Greece! But today, India is a place where every Indian girl and woman curses God for creating them as women at least one time each day.
It does not surprise me that the UN has declared India to be the deadliest place on Earth for a girl child. But why? Why in a land where there are female gods are girls killed and women abused at a rate that it is impossible to watch the daily news or read the newspaper where such incidents are not reported. What about those which go unreported?
What happened to baby Falak? What happened to the teenaged sexually abused girl who abused Falak? Why is a 10 year old girl raped repeatedly to such an extent that she can’t speak anymore? Why is the girl child still put to death right after birth in some places in this country?
I have met people who adore Indian women, from the color of our skins to our accents; we are loved outside our country. The Indian race has the best looking women in the world. Why are we then persecuted in our own country?
I have heard, read, seen and experienced so much brutality that nothing shocks me or disturbs me anymore. Let’s just say I’m used to it. I’m educated, I have a great job, I earn really well, and I love expensive clothes, footwear, and jewellery. All I think about is how to look good and I blame it on peer pressure. Not only I but also many other women in my situation who work for big fancy companies are really not disturbed by what is happening to our lesser priveleged sisters. We are so busy working and pleasing ourselves that we do not have the time to be bothered by a 10 year old girl being raped or a two year old baby girl being beaten to death. My own attitude disgusts me. It makes me question my own heart, firstly if it exists at all and secondly if it does exist then why it isn't a woman’s heart.
Why am I complaining? Why am typing away to glory on my laptop? Am I helpless or am I ignorant? I’m neither yet I don’t know how to deal with my grief and disgust in any other way. There are millions of women today in this country fighting on the streets for the cause I’m only writing about. I truly admire and respect those women. I hope someday I will be able to do my bit and help them.
Soy enojado!
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