Any form of violence or abuse in speech, deed or action within a domestic environment that causes harm whether physical, emotional or sexual to a member can be termed as Domestic Violence. The Junior Minister of Women has cited that around 70% of women in India are victims of domestic violence. With such a high frequency, you would assume that Domestic Violence is an issue that is very often discussed on media forums and within the walls of every household- sadly, to this day, it remains to be one of the many horrific aspects of family life that is swept under the carpet. Family members, husbands, relatives refuse to acknowledge that a crime against a woman has been committed in their vicinity. Violence at home is such a regular feature of Indian filial relations that to the ordinary man, there is absolutely nothing depraved about wife-beating, demanding dowry, emotional harassment or sexual abuse. If people want a solution to the problem of rampant domestic violence, they must first and foremost admit to themselves that the problem exists and that it is a grave issue. Without attributing the due seriousness to this problem, without outlining the inhumanity in such actions and without awareness about the moral wrong there can be no prevention or treatment.

The only positive aspect about this problem is that it isn’t incurable. It isn’t HIV, blood cancer or Alzheimer’s that there is no remedy and no means of offering immunity. With collective social enlightenment, the occurrence of Domestic violence can greatly be reduced.

For one, we need to understand the reason why violence occurs. The attitude towards women in general is extremely derogatory and chauvinistic which doesn’t grant women in homes any respect or liberty. Feminism is still a very nascent concept in India. It hasn’t received the kind of attention, encouragement and investment that would allow any real progress to take place in the status of women. Another aspect of society that is conducive to domestic violence is lack of any social sanctions to deal with filial conflict. Society subjects such families to contempt and censure instead of offering measures that can rectify the problem. An essential feature of families involved in inter-relational violence, is the absolute disregard for the children. No family that treasures its children and strives as one to protect their innocence will allow any kind of violence at home. It is mainly the families that are emotionally unavailable and psychologically negligent towards their children, that will indulge in domestic violence. 

Domestic violence can essentially involve physical abuse- beating, torture, force, house-arrest; emotional or psychological abuse- demand for dowry, verbal abuse, withholding rights and freedoms and sexual assault- rape, marital rape, reproductive coercion etc.

In a nutshell, there are some steps that families can take to avoid violence :

1. Pre-marital counseling : Couples that go to receive pre-marital counseling will be forewarned about domestic violence before entering into the marriage.

2. Communication guidelines : The communication between any two members has to necessarily be clear, concise and devoid of negativity. The behavior of one, affects another which results in a backlash. To avoid getting into this vicious circle, there has to be mutual understanding about behavior that is civil and that which is not. Moreover, it has to be the aim of every person to clear misunderstandings and correct mistakes in communication- and the guilty party has to accept those mistakes in order for communication to become easier.

3. Love : The conventional rule here applies to any two people and not just a couple. If two people love one another, then violence can never be an option- which is something the people have to accept and inculcate into their relationship. 

4. Bringing in help : There is always an aggressor, sometimes it can be both the people involved. The expression of aggression need not lead to violence, but if it does, then the victim has to ensure his/her own protection. Informing neighbors, law enforcement, concerned relatives, social groups can go a long way in preventing future incidents. The aggressor has to fear punishment and outside interference or he/she will not regulate his/her behavior.

5. Pre-Marital : For women especially, before consenting to matrimony, the family of the girl has to collect as much information as possible about the boy’s family and ensure that their girl is independent, self-reliant and always has the option of seeking the help of her parents or other family members should she be victimized or harassed. The girl must be assured of the fact that if anything goes wrong, she will not be discarded like some piece of trash and will receive guidance and timely help.

6. Checks and balance : Every person is liable to becoming violent- that must be presumed unless the person consistently maintains his/her temperance. No matter what the age, status or position of the aggressor is in the family- he/she must be corrected by other members. Each person is responsible for himself and for every other. 

In spite of the law, namely the Protection of Women against Domestic Violence Act- this social evil has not been annihilated successfully. It needs constant vigilance, inexhaustible attempts to spread awareness and unlimited authorities that can impart justice. The website I’m writing for, requires me to take an oath and promise that I will do my bit to put an end to Domestic Violence. However, practically speaking, it is not a linear phenomenon that I can simply stop by standing in its way and barring it from going any further. I can however, blog about it, ask people to read it and be hopeful that those who do will remember that domestic violence begins at home and not at the police station or court. The most powerful panacea of all crime against women would be exposure to the correct information and a complete transformation in the attitude towards women. 

I’m a realist, so I can see that that’s a long shot. However, I’m doing my bit to let people know about it and not shove it in the closet. Are you willing to do the same?

Author’s note : For more information about Domestic Violence visit http://www.bellbajao.org/

The only conceptual knowledge I had about electricity was 11th grade physics that taught me about induction motors, electromagnetism, and AC and DC current. However, over the last few summers I’ve learnt a lot more about the practical aspects of power-generation. Since the summer of 2007, first spent in the blistering heat of Delhi and then the humid stickiness of Pune, I’ve learnt the following things about electricity which I’m quite sure my former Physics teacher would agree with wholeheartedly. 

a) Electricity supply in India is very erratic, moody and irritable. A friend of mine fondly dubbed it Pre-menopausal. 

b) There are no collective good-will backup generators in our area. 

c) Power outage is more regular than consistent power supply

d) Low voltage is NOT better than no voltage. Low voltage does the air-conditioner no good.

e) Frequent power-cuts can cause the Master Circuit Breaker to trip involuntary  even when there’s no power-cut. So you’ll wait patiently thinking the power will come back on but it won’t because you have to flip the switch. 

f) Sometimes it’s not just a shortage of electricity. The intense heat can also cause transmission wires to burn themselves. 

g) Waiting it out is not an option. You have to badger the Power-house to tell you things like- How long it’s going to take, extent of areas affected, have you got anyone working on it, etc

h) Always, always have a contingency plan. You cannot spend a night in the middle of May, without electricity, surviving on a natural breeze (which is non-existent mostly) being assaulted by disease-carrying mosquitoes and blanket-worms. The contingency plans should ideally include alternative accommodation.

I) Power cuts also imply unpredictable fresh-water timings. So always stock up on water for your bathroom and import drinking water from nearest neighbor with a functioning water-purifier- Hopefully you won’t confuse the two. Also transfer perishable items of fridge into the refrigerator of friend who isn’t affected by the power-cut

j) Never switch on two high power-consuming gadgets at the same time. They mess up the voltage.

k) Save electricity. No, really. Ever since the last power outage, I’ve been roaming around the house trying to shepherd the entire family into one room (refuge-style) and switch off the lights of every other room. Switch off all appliances at night and keep your essential gadgets like mobile phones, music players and laptops charged up on a general basis. 

l) Lastly, get a freaking inverter. It is the only difference between the states of heat-stroking and not.

A website recently informed me through the medium of a petition that the reason for power-cuts is India’s over-dependence on coal-produced energy. Instead, the country need to starts relying on renewable sources of energy.

What is renewable energy? Flashback : 8th Grade Science. Energy harnessed from sources which are replenished continually, are perennial and incapable of running out is Renewable Energy which basically includes solar, wind, tidal and geothermal energy. Today, renewable energy provides only 19% of electricity generation worldwide. According to recent studies, India is a lot less proactive towards deriving electricity from renewable sources as compared to other countries. Although it has made great leaps in the field of solar energy and wind energy with nearly 20 Solar plants in the country and a Wind Energy capacity of 13,000 Mega Watts (1000W = 1 MW) , the investment in renewable energy per-State has been lesser than the allotted target which has resulted in severe power cuts. Or so I’m told by the petition below.

If you are being victimized by the frequent electricity problems as much as I am, then a constructive method of venting out would be to sign this petition which aims at demanding that the Union Power Minister make it mandatory for states to use Renewable Energy and encourage investment.

http://www.greenpeace.org/india/en/What-We-Do/Energy-Revolution/Delhi-can-switch-on-the-sun/states-take-RE-seriously/?utm_source=SilverpopMailing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Delhi%20RE%20-%20Non%20Signers%20-%20M4%20-%20National%20(1)&utm_content=

Thanks for reading this very ‘hot’ post. 

The other day (I don’t know what date it was or whether it was a Monday or a Tuesday because I very recently finished my exams so I’m currently living in a time warp) I was talking with my best friend and we just happened to notice how we were talking on two separate messengers at the same time. This resulted in further discussion about how much we talk to each other and the reason behind that. As she rightly pointed out, it has become absolutely intolerable talking to anyone during the summer holidays. It’s India, it’s May, the heat is scorching, the electricity supply is erratic and let’s face it most 20 year old’s are not doing much at all. My friend and I are not ‘most 20 year old’s’. She vacations all over the country with her family, cooks, works out- I write unfathomable poetry in the dead of the night, read books on fast-track, blog about social issues and practice about 15 covers on the piano every day.

Which is why it gets annoying when friends expect you to talk to them any time of the day just because they’re bored. With the exception of my best friend, I really don’t talk to my peers. The main reason being is that most people have forgotten some of the basic rules of communication. When I told my best friend about this she elaborated on the conversation that she basically has with everyone (barring me of course).

What’s up?

What are you doing?

Good morning.

Had lunch yet?

Good evening

What did you have for dinner?

Good night.

How’s your boyfriend?

Now you’ll notice there’s no real exchange of information going on here. If someone wishes me good morning I’ll obviously text the same- but I’ve lost about a minute in being told something that I already know- It’s morning, I get it. If someone asks me about what I’m doing- what exactly, I wonder, am I supposed to tell them? Just stepped out of the shower? I once made the mistake of telling a guy that I just finished having a bath and he unashamedly starting asking me questions about what I did in there. So what else do I say? Watching television? Because then they’ll ask me what I’m watching which is just not the fucking point of having a conversation unless I look like some kind of programmer guide. If you’re asking me about my boyfriend, then again, why the hell would I tell you how’s it going with my boyfriend? What would I say- he’s very insecure? We made out? I’m going to dump him?

So you see the questions are not meant to elicit any appropriate answer and just serve as some form of amusement for bone-idle people.

The purpose of conversation has always been getting to know new things. I rather end up getting to know things about my friends I’m absolutely not interested in, giving information I otherwise do not want them to be privy to (How else are you supposed to dodge the insistent “What are you doing? What are you up to? What? What?) and wasting God knows how many hours in hopeless witter.

I feel people from my generation have forgotten how to speak. They’ve been handed all this wonderful newfangled equipment like the internet, text messaging and web hangouts but there’s no point to it, is there?, because the only intention is to gossip. For example, how do you put communication technology to good use? I own a tablet and the day before I got a warning message from the service providers because I don’t make calls or text- which makes having a SIM card totally redundant. Then it hit me- I don’t like chatting. No wonder. I check my blog perfunctorily, send e-mails to the websites I review for, listen to music, watch videos, share some online bonhomie with my best friend, read an E-book and that’s about it.

Here are some pointers I feel many of my peers will benefit from :

1. If you don’t have anything to talk about- don’t talk.

2. If you do want to talk, get to the fucking point before I doze off.

3. If you want to make a pass at me, I’d appreciate a direct approach rather than the ‘love/hate’ ‘hot/cold’ too-afraid-of-rejection-to-ask-straight-up but too-desperate-to-give-up technique.

4. If you’re bored, I’ll tell you a joke. My personal life should not be your entertainment. ( I recognize the irony, I’m writing about this on my personal blog after all).

5. If you’re not doing anything at the moment, kindly stop criticizing what others are doing if they seem busy.

6. If you want attention- get a boyfriend/girlfriend. I do not wish to fulfill that role.

7. If you need advice about painful matters, then sure, I’m always there for that. It does not mean I become your Guru or self-help guide. You will still have to use your own brains eventually.

If you think I’m taciturn and that’s why I’m griping about this, you can ask my classmates that’s absolute bullshit- I love talking. I love listening to my own voice and gauging the tone in which others speak, nuances of body-language, expression and basically getting a better sense of how they think. However, that isn’t the purpose with which conversation is carried out these days. Let’s face it, even if you’re not bilingual or experience cultural or linguistic differences it doesn’t mean you’re in any way limited in the conversational field. Conversation is about what you speak and how you speak it.

These days, the what part is about nothing but highly melodramatic, over-complicated, self-gratifying teenage existential despair and the how bit is nothing but a bastardized version of jargon picked up from Hollywood movies (and sadly not books), Hip-Hop music (Cool/Sup/Whatever) and flirtatious segueways (I like this girl, she’s amazing blah blah blah- I hope you know it’s you).

That’s exactly why, this summer, I won’t be talking much to you.

But these mythical allusions
Cannot explain why
Good and evil manage to co-exist
Without even having to try

Every man has committed sin
Every man has loved at least once
Does it mean he is sent to either
Without being given a chance?

What heaven do you talk of
When God walks by my side
And the devil keeps trying
To take me for a ride

What justice do you speak of?
When you tell me I deserve it
Do those who have a good life
Never do anything to burn it?

What fairness do you preach of
When all you do is whip others with lashes
And I get in the way because it’s wrong
So you kiss me with scars and gashes

Which heavenly gates would welcome
Those who never learnt to care?
Which hell would throw them out
If they’ve cut people open and laid them bare?

What on earth, kindly tell me
Are you people doing?
Do you think that we are pawns
In the trouble that is brewing?

Stop trying to blame some God
When things start going wrong
And refusing to acknowledge the evil
That has lived in us all along

There is only you and me
And the battle going on between us
Of what is right and what is wrong
So stop crying Satan and Jesus

For all the good things that I’ve done
Enough medals I have shown
For all that I have suffered
There are plenty  of  gravestones

If you have ever wronged
Someone who shouldn’t have been
I was there vigilant and vengeful
If you thought nobody had seen

The bible got one thing right ‘we reap what we sow’
Because if you have done evil, believe me
No faith can save you today
Not the heaven that rests above
Nor the hell that thrives below

Tantra describes the journey of a highly-skilled vampire killer Anu, a young and vivacious woman, as she tracks the vampire who killed her boyfriend Brian. The chase brings her from New York to Delhi, where she finds herself surrounded with old relatives, long lost friends, new bosses and colleagues and more importantly, new enemies.

The vampire system prevailing in Delhi is such that an uneasy alliance exists between the hunters and the vampires thereby maintaining peace in the city. Unaccustomed to such deals between the two species, Anu accidentally stumbles upon a much bigger conspiracy- one that goes beyond the level of vampires and strays into the dark magic world. A war is brewing; a fanatical, power-hungry Yogi by the name Baba Senaka has been taking the lives of little children in order to harness excessive spiritual energy and channel it towards a self-gratifying  purpose. He clearly intends to dominate the entire world with his unbeatable store of evil energy and his first target is Delhi. Anu unfortunately finds herself becoming more and more embroiled in this chaos, siding with vampires to protect the city and mastering ancient religious techniques in order to fight this battle. Her only concern is to get her family, friends and potential lover away from the crossfire. Will Anu, along with a handful of her friends- human, vampire and hunter combined, be able to defeat the unbeatable Baba Senaka?

Now I’ve done my best to furbish the synopsis so that you may not judge this book by its tacky and nondescript cover or the absolutely confounding name below the title : Adi. Who Adi? My classmate Adi? A stranger-I-met-in-the-lobby Adi? A pseudonym perhaps? Or a nickname?

Whatever the truth is behind this mysterious name, one cannot help but admire certain features of this book. For one, the story is slick and the humor is absolutely refreshing. It is enjoyable particularly for those who have lived in the capital to hear Adi describe Delhi as the center of this struggle for world-domination. Adi does full justice to the two most interesting dimensions that are intertwined : Spirituality and Tantra. He delves into India’s vast religious background emphasizing on the mythology part and explaining in a very instructive manner some basic concepts of spirituality. On the other hand, he also elaborates on Tantra and the kind of people who wield it for the wrong reasons.

For those people who haven’t heard anything about either subject, this book may come off as a 12th grade physics textbook. Although a lot of the vitality comes from Anu and all the witty repartee between her and the other characters- there are certain low points during the story. For one, the book suggests a sequel which does not really evoke the interest that it should. Another major flaw to Adi’s writing is that there are too many different things squashed between the pages- not all of which are followed to the proper conclusion. The resulting confusion may disappoint readers. Also, the angle with Brian is somewhat- hard to believe. Like the main character just needs to have someone to pine about so it might as well be her overrated dead boyfriend.

I admire the fact that Adi seems like a fearless writer. He writes about things like intimacy and  reality in a way that assures you that he is a gifted writer. However, the overall impact is not exactly shall we say, satisfying. In the end, one does wonder if Adi has gotten sidetracked from his own story.

The premise of the story, the liberty with which the characters are dealt with and the epic climax fortunately guarantees a memorable first-read. The choice to do so for a second time, is entirely up to you.

This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

A few years ago, in the summer of February 2009, my best friend Shreya was preparing to get married to her high-school sweetheart. Being very close to the bride, I spent the entire morning running around the spacious wedding hall, setting up the reception area, checking the guest list, overseeing the seating arrangement and acting as liaison between the bride and groom. I was quite young and extremely thrilled to be watching my older friend get married. In the evening, I  stood along with Shreya’s family by the ornate gate through which the guests were streaming in. Among them was also her grandfather Retd Col S. Newaskar, a burly man who walked and talked military, had the bushiest handlebar mustache I had ever seen and a very piercing gaze that left me flustered. Along with him was his wife, a docile and simple woman who from what I had gathered, had been widowed early in her life. A few years after her first husband’s unfortunate death, she had met Col Newaskar who had lost his wife many years back and they had married each other soon after. Shreya had confided once, that although she hadn’t been very close to her step-grandmother she seemed like a sweet woman. Once I had greeted the guests, I, along with all the family members became engrossed in participating in all the traditional events.

Maybe because I was young and didn’t know that much about Indian weddings in general, I happened to notice a tiny detail which all the adults seemed quite accustomed to. Although   Shreya’s step-grandmother Mrs Newaskar, was required to be a part of all the ceremonies there was always this moment when with a sort of understated skill, she would be shuttled to the fringe of the group, seeming to grow smaller while the rest of the family vigorously indulged in the wedding ceremony. In fact, whenever there was a pooja or a ritual involving the bride or the groom, Mrs. Newaskar would come forward traditionally being required to perform many of those rituals but in a practiced move the rest of the family, sometimes the bride’s mother or some aunt or some relative, would sideline. Following this, Mrs Niwaskar would stand at the edge as far away from the happy couple as possible till the ritual had been concluded.

This inexplicable event happened so many times that I started to wonder if there was something wrong with Mrs. Newaskar. Like I said, I was very new to the traditions, customs and most importantly- the superstitions of a large Indian family. I assumed maybe the family was keeping their distance from her because she hadn’t been with them for that long, or maybe she didn’t get along with her husband’s children or some other personal reason that I wasn’t privy to. Whatever this reason was, Shreya’s family and relatives for the most part were going out of their way not to let Mrs. Newaskar perform or be a part of most of the ceremonies.

It was the in the last ceremony before the reception, that my question was answered. The priest performing the pooja asked for the girl’s eldest female relative to be brought forward and conduct the Aarti. Once again, I sensed that same hushed rustling of women’s sari’s and flapping of men’s kurta’s as the group surrounding the couple drew a deep breath together and somehow Mrs. Niwaskar was hampered from getting across to the priest and accepting the proffered thali. Once again, Mrs Niwaskar’s face fell for a fraction of a second and she stepped back as demurely as possible. Fortunately I looked back to where Col Newaskar was sitting and caught the momentary look of outrage that swept across his face before it vanished behind the typical military composure that soldiers possess. Col Newaskar got up and with a kind of regal grace strode forward and stopped his daughter-in-law from starting the ceremony.

The shahnai ceased to play. The band stopped beating the drums. People, as one, looked towards the intimidating figure of the former Colonel.

“How long will you people keep doing that?” He asked his son and daughter-in-law softly in a deep, gravelly voice.

The rest of the family seemed stunned. There were muted replies from some of the other members. Col Newaskar waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and pointed to the diminutive figure of his second wife.

“She’s the eldest female relative. Did you all not hear the Priest’s request?”

His son, the other Mr. Newaskar supplied some answer in hushed tones to his father.

“In every function so far, you have gone out of your way to shun my wife. Why? Is it because she was a widow? Because Hindu superstition dictates that widows bring bad luck to auspicious functions?”

He turned to the priest and asked him “Pandit ji, has it been mentioned in any holy scripture that widows cannot be allowed to do what is their birthright?”

The priest bowed and replied that there was no such thing written in the Vedas and the Upnishads.

Col Newaskar pointed to his granddaughter Shreya, dressed in the bride’s traditional glittering red attire. “My wife is also her grandmother. The couple needs her blessings. Without the blessings and grace of her elders the wedding will not be complete. That would be inauspicious.” He looked at this granddaughter at this point and there must have been some silent communication, because Shreya quickly got up along with her husband-to-be and they both stepped forward to hand the ceremonial plate to her grandmother.

It took a few seconds for the silent crowd to process what was happening because before they knew it, the priest was chanting, the Aarti was being conducted by Mrs. Newaskar, the couple were smiling and bowing to touch her feet and Col Newaskar had silently returned to his post- a solitary plastic chair at the edge of the stage.

It was much later, that I really understood the significance of this one, small incident. You see, due to caste-ism in India, the position of women has been downgraded from what it used to be, but what is worse is the position of widows in the orthodox community.  A widow is treated like an accursed person, an ill-omen or a harbinger of misery, bad-luck and death. It is believed that it is the woman’s own fate that brought on her husband’s untimely death and hence will follow her everywhere. Widows are boycotted from all festivals and happy occasions for the same reason. They are made to spend their life in the most lonely way possible- surviving on the charity of their in-laws, barred from indulging in any activities that married women are allowed to do- especially religious ceremonies and weddings. Even today, a re-married widow is still perceived as once-a-widow-always-a-widow. A widow cannot decorate her body, adorn herself with jewelry or garb herself in attractive clothes. Ideally, she must spend her life in perdition and serve a sort of purgatory sentence for the rest of her life.

Women, whether married, unmarried or widowed deserve as much respect as men do in in society. They are here to faithfully play that role in life which has been assigned to them. It may be their destiny to be a daughter, mother, sister, wife, friend or even a widow- but that does not give society any right to determine how they are supposed to play that role. Their status and position, their freedom and liberty cannot be constricted any longer by those orthodox and oppressive norms which have been prevailing in society since generations.

What Col Newaskar did on that day, was a very special, very brave act that indeed, had a huge impact on the rest of the family. It was meant to dispel the superstitious and irrational beliefs of the family and ensure equality and respect for his wife.

I never discussed the incident much with my friend after that. I remember the rest of the wedding was pretty normal and uneventful, although any observant person would notice that there was a delicate smile on Mrs. Newaskar’s face now, who seemed to have finally been accepted as an integral part of the wedding.

Retd Col Sai Newaskar may not be with his beloved and happily married granddaughter today and he will never know the effect his one humanitarian act had on my 17 year-old self. He and I didn’t have any personal interaction, nor did we have any connection aside from the fact that Shreya was and still remains to be one of my closest friends. I don’t even know what he did for our nation because what he did for one woman seems even braver to me. In my memory, what he did that day, will always be the most honorable and commendable act that a man did for his wife, for a widow and for a woman.

This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Now the interesting part here is the differing opinions of two of the strongest political parties over the age of consent. The ruling government believes that the amendment is necessary because girls under the age of 18 can also be involved in consensual sex- hence to remove any doubts about consent or the lack thereof, it has been suggested that the age be lowered. However, the opposing party has given a lukewarm response to this suggestion mainly because it believes that the wrong message would be sent to the public, implying that premarital sex or sex at a younger age is permissible by the society. An additional factor here is the specific application of the law to only rape against women because many social activists believe that this law should pertain to rape against any human being be it a man, woman, transgender etc.

So far, it seems Article 375 and its sections have not been altered in any significant way because they merely define the nature of the crime. It is Article 376 of the Indian Penal Code that is the core of the issue because it pertains to punishment. For example, the government has taken a very strong stand regarding the death penalty, stating that in the ‘rarest of rare cases’ the courts would have no choice but to sentence the guilty party to death. In Bhopal for instance, a fast-track court awarded the death penalty within barely 9 days of the case proceedings to a man accused of raping and killing an 8 year old girl.

The Indian cabinet recently cleared a draft of the new Anti-Rape bill, under which the punishment for gang-rape ranged from sentencing up to 20 years to life imprisonment. Having learnt the lesson from Nirbhaya’s case, the law also describes that in the event where the victim dies or is in a state of paralysis due to the injuries resulting from the rape, the criminals could be facing the death penalty.

When the Justice Verma panel was summoned and it submitted its findings based on  the general consensus regarding rape laws, it was realized that stringent measures like castration would do more damage than good because they would only provoke the criminals further to commit more heinous crimes against women. Justice Verma also expressed that the panel was not in favor of awarding the death penalty mainly because the decision of the court to take away the life of a person, had to be necessitated by overwhelming evidence which was unavailable in most cases.

This sudden flurry of political and legislative activity is heartwarming but as a girl and a young adult the only lesson I learnt from Nirbhaya’s tragic case was the fact that no piece of legislation, no amount of amending and undertaking reform for law-enforcement can protect women as much as a transition in the public’s attitude towards rape. The letter of the law can be crystal-clear but its implementation and interpretation depend on the society in which our lawyers, judges and politicians of today have grown up.

So what do we do? Wait for the law to decide what can and cannot be done? If the law dictates the legal right and wrong of every action, shouldn’t we as citizens, decide what is the moral right and wrong?

The sociological factor that can prevent rape cannot be overlooked. The attitude towards women, sex, rape, sexual offences, harassment, stalking etc need to be transformed at the most primitive level. Family, Society and Education have to become the medium for enlightening citizens about the moral depravity that is a part of committing rape. Families need to discuss the current threat to women, how to protect them and the action needs to be taken if such a calamity were to befall women belonging to their family or  community. Moral values that teach how to respect women need to be inculcated in boys from a very young age. The manner in which men treat women today, depends a lot on what their source of information is when it comes to sex education. If it is entertainment, sexist humor and pornography then people will never become aware of what is wrong and what is right. If education and awareness about sex is introduced through more responsible methods then we can expect conscientious behavior. Schools and Universities need to organize workshops and conferences to talk frankly about matters like sex and rape and the consequences of such crimes. Educational institutions need to ensure the security of their female students and clearly elaborate the harsh measures that will be taken if any male student is responsible for outraging the modesty of a woman.

On a different note, it is almost ironic that such cases are only resolved when someone employs their own brand of vigilante justice : For example, the main-accused in the Nirbhaya rape case was found hanging in his cell and the whole incident was blamed on a security-error. Now the question is, if we were to assume that this wasn’t in fact suicide, which people were responsible for forcing that man to take such an extreme step or for committing his murder itself and, more importantly, where was this sense of responsibility when Nirbhaya needed to be saved?

If the message that rape is wrong can be delivered to the people in the most fundamental manner, before the police and the government and the law gets involved then only, can we ensure that the new Anti-Rape laws will prevent rape as they are supposed to and deliver justice, should there be any lapse in our own judgment.

Was if I wanted more clay 

I remember nodding my head

and saying No, but

He gave it to me anyway

All he said in primary school

Was if I needed help with my homework

I pushed the binder

Right into his hands

And told my friends he was a jerk

All he said in Junior High

Was “Take your hands off her”

When my boyfriend tried to force me

He punched him in the face

Then took me home later

All He said in Senior High

Was if I had a date for the prom

I said I did, but I lied

And then sat up all night

Cursing myself till dawn

All he said at graduation

Was that he’d gotten me a gift

But since I hadn’t gotten him anything

On my way back home

I gave him a lift

We wrote each other often

And he always said so much

But I was just so busy all the time

With papers and roll calls

And what he said wasn’t enough

Years later we met one day

Nearly collided with one another

For a second we both looked so mad

But deep down

We were so glad to run into each other

We sat down for coffee

And I saw that look on his face

When he glimpsed the gold band

Sitting on my finger

Then he bent down to tie his shoe lace

Before I could say anything 

He told me what he hadn’t said before

That he’d always cared a lot for me

But was too scared

That I’d give him a royal ignore

That he’d never stopped caring

That he wished me the best

For my husband, and my kids

That he still believed I was

Better than the rest 

I nearly spilled my coffee all over him

Because the ring was my dead aunt’s

“I’m not married you doofus”

“Not that I don’t want to, but because of you

I can’t”

He looked stunned for a moment

Then he gave me a wide-toothed smile

All I could remember was that boy

In the sandbox, in the classroom

Shaping clay, Juggling files

“I did try though” He said

“I did all those nice things to tell you”

And right before we embraced 

I looked deep into his eyes

and said “You’re one crazy fool”

“I didn’t care for any of those things

Not even the chicken soup you got me 

When I was down with the flu

All you had to do was to stop being 

So damn nice and say

That I. Love. You”

It started when i woke up around 4 in the afternoon (I’ll explain why). This past week had been so hot and in addition the week before I’d been running around with a dozen admission forms trying to persuade a bunch of grumpy clerks to let me give my exams and if, that weren’t enough, the week before that I’d had an accident on my bike (Which was really cool by the way) that I finally decided to take a couple of days off from the daily grind and just snooze away.

But yesterday I woke up in the afternoon, sweaty, irritable to find that the lights had gone out. Now power cuts in this country are not even the slightest bit unusual but whenever they happen, they tend to cause quite a lot of trauma and I never use that word lightly.

This time the power cut was horrendous. My father was supposed to return from out of station that evening. Till around 7 I remember, my mother and I were simply waiting it out- which is what you do in most temporary blackouts. I played with the dog, my mother and I sat down by the edge of the veranda, sang a bit, chatted a bit and then started debating whether to call up the power station and find out what was going on. Till now, panic hadn’t kicked in.

When my father arrived, he was exhausted- having struggled with an incredibly hectic work-schedule only to be mauled by the dog the moment he stepped inside the house. (For those who haven’t read my blog much, my dog mauls my father almost all the time. When he comes back from work,  when he steps out of the shower, when he works on the computer, when he takes him out for a walk- I’ve often thought the reason my dog keeps standing up on his hind legs when he greets my father is to probably steal an illicit kiss.)

By 8, we were getting a little antsy. The lights hadn’t come back on and the power station had reported that it was a major blow-up which was likely to take hours. So my father arranged alternate accommodations for the night (the weather doesn’t permit sleeping without a fan), so we packed our night gear, my father took his laptop, I took a rucksack, a bag full of cutlery and were soon on our way to the temporary quarters. I had a bad headache that day from the heat actually- honestly my break from work hadn’t turned out that peachy and I was starting to scowl at my mother. (As if it were her fault, but she takes it well).

All of a sudden, just as we approached a crucial turn the car stopped. Picture this : a million cars zooming past us, honking behind us and our car just dies on that blind turn and my dad’s furiously trying to start up the engine.

My mother had that ‘something’s wrong look’ and I just stared at the dashboard willing the car to magically start again.

My father went like “What the fu-” and my mother looked at me for a second because my father does not swear, in fact that might be the first time I’ve heard him almost say the F-word. Now our car isn’t old by any standard, it’s very new and my father’s very particular about machines and maintenance so you can imagine how mad he went. It refused to start up. Meanwhile the cars behind us started piling up. My mother and I instantly got out and started pushing the car because we had to get it out of the way before someone collided with us.

So now picture this : My mother’s in her nightdress and sarong wrap, I’m wearing squishy bathroom slippers and a ratty Salwar Kameez ( We were preparing to sleep, what do you expect) and we’re crazily pushing this dense body of metal in the middle of evening traffic. Dad was presumably still keying the ignition but it wasn’t working so we kept pushing until suddenly the car hit a speed breaker so we couldn’t push it any further.

Luckily the car went back and my mother and I used the momentum to heave. I still remember saying to her “1….2…3…jesus!” and we managed to push the car to the side. Two guys suddenly appeared- (and unfortunately I realized far too late how cute they were)  who started pushing the car alongside us. I think for this brief comical period all of us were just panting and running together like crazy people- we might have just ended up reaching the motel on foot.

Then the taller one asked me what was wrong and I remember thinking “Dude if I knew that I’d start it back up” but I told him that the car just stopped suddenly. Another guy who had parked his car by the curb joined up and together we popped open the hood and I remember peeking in anxiously as if I knew a single bloody thing about cars.

Finally, after checking out the front under an emergency light the men figured out that some nut on the battery was loose because when my father tried starting it up this time the bolt on it started sparking. I remember one of the younger guys looking at me, probably wondering how I was managing to push the car with that much force ( a 20 year old girl pushing a car like that? No, not a very common sight in India). Thankfully, because help had arrived Dad managed to tighten the bolt temporarily and we grabbed some chinese food before heading towards the motel.

Trouble wasn’t over yet. I still have to talk about the run-in part. While we were heading to out destination a drunk, scruffy guy was on a cycle and when the traffic light turned red he just carried on and we almost hit him. The funny part was, even before we stopped his cycle started wobbling (obviously, because he was hammered) and he just let go of the handles and fell on his own, then got up and started scratching his head. After ensuring we hadn’t hit him- which was a no-brainer- we went forward but the problem was this couple in another car thought we had hit him and decided to probably show a little bit of civic consciousness (which is good) by throwing us incredibly disgusted looks out of the front seat (which is bad).

My mother can smell a fight like miles away and the first thing she did was make my father stop the car because the other couple was slowing down as well. Now honestly, my poor Dad had had it. He was about to stride out and start yelling at those people but my mother told him to sit in the car, tightened the belt on the Sarong wrap and calmly opened the side door. “Let her do it Dad” I remember telling my father and placing a hand on his shoulder.

See the thing is, my mother is incredibly brave when it comes to any kind of social confrontation. I think it comes out of the fact that morally she’s always got the upper hand which makes her strong enough when anyone tries to get smart. So she went to the other couple chatted with them for a while and god knows what she said but within 10 minutes they’d zoomed off. I asked her later exactly how the conversation went but what I got from it was my mother telling the woman in the passenger seat “Promise me you won’t do that again because even if people haven’t done something wrong they’ll start feeling guilty. You’re not the only ones trying to do it right”

Like I said, that’s why I told my Dad to wait in the car.

No wait, it gets better. The car died again right in front of the gates of the motel. And all that was needed to tweak the battery was the tool kit which for some godforsaken reason wasn’t in the back. I wouldn’t have been surprised if steam had started blowing out of my dad’s mustache at the sight of such disorganization in his car.  So for about 20 minutes, we’re standing around the car waiting for help to arrive because my father called up people from work to get a tool kit. Then the guys who were supposed to come, took the wrong route which delayed them further. When they finally arrived the guys were drunk and I still don’t know how they managed to screw the nut back.

In probably a final victory swing, whatever it was that was trying to annoy the hell out of us – when we finally parked the car and started to head towards the building, I realized that the bonnet wasn’t shut tight. So after Dad locked the car (auto-lock), I prodded the hood to make sure it was shut but because it was on burglar-watch it started emitting that shrill mother-of-god siren which probably woke up all the guests.

Of course there was the awareness of the fact that things could have been a lot worse- our car could have been hit, it may not have started up at all, nobody would have showed up to help us, there might have been a fight with the other people- any number of things could have gone seriously wrong and I was glad, despite the horrors of the night, to find myself and my family mentally intact.

I think the best part was how we all dealt with it. My mother and I were having fits of laughter by the time we checked in because the whole situation was both surreal and fucked up. My dad was comatose lugging the baggage up to the rooms. In spite of all that, I think it was a very relieved, very happy family that snacked on chinese chow while watching Grey’s Anatomy before slowly falling asleep in the dim, orange glow of the night bulb.