Thanks to Satyamev Jayate for just talking about it

I repeat, almost verbatim, a call I got from a neighbor:

Are you aware that child was molested in the E-block lift of our Apartment?

I was too shocked to frame my 'whats' and 'hows' in the correct order…

Well, the family of that child doesn't want to talk about the incident, I am informing you so that you can warn your daughters to be careful, my caller continued.

Of course, I’ll ask my children to be careful and talk to as many parents and children I know, but shouldn’t we organize a meeting to ensure that everybody knows about the threat?

Oh, but I can’t do that. 

My motives will be questioned, my caller reflected. 

And some people may even start sensationalizing the incident. 

Yes, I agreed, “people” are exactly like that.

The caller just wanted all the children in the complex to be informed so that they were more careful. She had seen an episode of “Satyamev Jayate” and felt she she could not do "nothing”. She could only talk to a handful of people-but the word spread, some steps were taken, and I hope we are all a little safer than before.

We do need a Aamir Khan for coming on a million TV screens and talking about keeping our children safe, for talking about all the issues we already know of, but think that they only happen to other people..

The Female child

After Swaram's post I just could not help sharing my experience.

We longed for a daughter. Yes I was ready to bring up a son with the same love and affection-but we still wished…

I went for the regular ultrasounds to a family friend who never confirmed if it was a girl and so I had doubts. And the last thing I remember whispering immediately after the baby, as everything passed into a blur was…Tell him it’s a girl!

Reactions:

The hospital staff was full of sympathy as they slinked away to other patients to collect Baksheesh: Oh, it’s ok. This is just your first child…

Uncle who did my ultrasounds: Beta, I don’t tell anyone if it’s a girl. Because if anything happens it’ll be on my conscience….(I knew what he was trying to say, but still could not believe “normal” people would do what he was implying)

People who did not matter: Chalo theek hai. Lakshmi aayee hai. Aglee baar........(err Congratulations, but better luck next time!)

My family was furious. How dare anyone imply that she was not welcome? I was so thrilled with my baby that I seriously didn’t mind the opinionated, ignorant, deprived fools for their conditioning.

And then I did it again!

Some “well-wishers” were so over-whelmed with sympathy that they just couldn’t keep it to themselves: You didn’t get a scan even though you already have a daughter?

No matter how futile arguing with fools is, I could not let that one go. These were prosperous, well qualified people. What do they think having sons will accomplish? All for the big deal of another generation with the same surname? And the hope of the son sharing his dowry when he reaches an auctionable age?

For that they are ready to kill a baby before she is born.

I am so sad that there are so many of them still around.

I am so happy I have my baby girls to cherish!

Some other children

Amidst all the chaos of my Children’s day preparations, I clicked on the NDTV homepage featuring some other children-the ones losing their struggle for surviving beyond the day.

It took me back many years to a tiny, deserted railway station in Rajasthan.

We were returning from a college trip and the train slowed down at a signal. A woman walked close to the train, with a little baby in a basket. A couple of us were hanging at our usual spot near the compartment door and I leaned out and waved merrily at the baby.

The woman seemed to rush over, talking desperately and almost thrusting the basket at me. Unable to follow her words, I stepped back, was she begging?

My friend pulled me up a step  as the train picked up speed again. The woman ran the length of the platform holding out the basket as I fished out some money and started to throw it near her.

“She is not asking for money,” my friend insisted, “she wants you to take the baby.”

We had left the platform by then and I was still struggling to understand: She was saying she was going to throw the baby on the tracks, then she saw you looking at her, and ran after you.

It took time to sink in.

Was it real?

That woman was really going to throw her baby on the tracks? Why didn’t I grab the basket?

“Are you crazy? Just imagine the hostel warden’s reaction if we went back with a baby.”

I was still shaken. We could have given the baby to some NGO, some mother who would have kept her, but it was too late.

I still feel guilty.

Because I am afraid that nobody else grabbed that basket either. And that baby too met the fate that so many other baby girls in our country do.

I still want to go back and help a few babies like her. Writing about her is just the beginning, I hope I can do something more.

Someday soon.

Thanks to blogadda for picking this post-we need all the help we can in rooting out this evil

Do words work?

Most of my posts are frivolous and fun as I deliberately avoid writing about serious issues, about things which matter most, about things I cannot change…..

This is because even though I find writing cathartic, I am really not convinced about its power. When we try to create awareness through words, does it even reach the right people?

As I was going through some really thought-provoking posts on Domestic Violence Awareness month, this was what I thought-are the women who are victims, even reading these? Will they start believing they have the right not to put up with it? Why do they endure it in the first place?

And violence is not always physical.

Some firmly blanked out memories crept out…

Yep.  I am an Engineer and a M.B.A and I have put up with a whole load of stuff from my MIL which no woman should.

Why the hell did I do that?

Because I hate confrontations and nastiness and I was afraid it would inevitably lead to more nastiness, because it would upset the whole family, because I still wanted to cover up for her…

Because I was a wimp!

There comes a point when enough is a lot more than enough, when you have to wake up and realize that things will not change until you change them. The sooner you start the better.

I hope some more women out there start fast.

Coming back to my original thought, yes I guess “just writing” may not be enough to bring about change, but maybe it just starts a ripple somewhere…