Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
The author introspects on how the media covered the murder of Aaarushi Talwar and how the country assassinated her character.
A recent viewing of the film Talvar, based on the Aarushi Talwar, provokes the author to introspect on how the media covered the murder of Aarushi Talwar and how the country assassinated her character.
On the International Day of the Girl Child, I sat in a theatre, watching Talvar. No, it was not an intentional plan – more like a last-minute attempt to find something to do on a Sunday morning with my family. And yet, the movie sent me home with a powerful message that cut across my fervent tweeting for the Day of the Girl, and hit me hard. This post is not about judging the whodunit or even dabbling in conjecture about the lingering “who was the killer” question. It is neither my business nor my prerogative to do that. However, the case brought forth some very important facts that make you think. Or at least, they made me think.
Aarushi Talwar’s case is a horrible murder case – as is true of any murder. What it brings forth are many ethical questions that we need to introspect on. The first thing that struck me was the kind of character assassination that we indulge in, when it comes to the victim. I choose to say we, because the ones who have made these statements are a part of this larger society that we belong to, and by allowing these statements to be made, we are as much a part of the structural violence through silence, as they are through action.
Right from Jessica Lall to Aarushi Talwar, from the girl in the Delhi Gang-rape incident to the Badaun Girls and the Park Street case, character assassination of a victim of crime has been everything from a knee-jerk reaction to well-thought-out responses. This is also the case with a few male victims as well – with Hemraj (also murdered, part of the Aarushi Talwar case) being an example, although the instances of male victim character assassination are arguably fewer.
Why does it come so easily to us? Is it that we want to absolve ourselves of guilt for letting this happen, that we justify the end result by couching ourselves behind rhetoric that suggests that “they deserved it?” Or, is it that we are increasingly comfortable with shifting the onus to the victim? Nothing I do, choose or say reflects that I am deserving of the imposition of a crime. My body, my mind, my integrity and my person are mine – and no one has a right to violate any of it. If it has been violated, why should I be punished again for the violation by being ascribed the assertion that I asked for it?
A flaw in the system
A second fact that came to light is the egregious failings of the security sector in investigating a case. This is not reflective of a particular police officer or a particular system – but rather, the flaw in the entire system, the mindset pervading it, and the lackadaisical approach that translates that mindset into action. A crime is not the next paycheck for the police officer or lawyer: it is the next loophole in the system that needs to be plugged for a safer society. A crime is not the next crease in the brow line of the police officer, but the next opportunity for him to be vigilant. Recidivism thrives in a society where vigilance is lacking – and until that level of vigilance subsists, crime will continue. Vigilance is not just about being watchful, but also the active responsibility not to indulge in accentuating mindsets that allow tacit encouragement to crime. A police officer questioning the character of a victim endorses his belief that the victim was deserving of the crime. This feeds right into the mindset of a criminal – and regardless of whether he is let off or not, he knows somewhere deep down, that this system has all the trappings of failing the victim.
Right from Jessica Lall to Aarushi Talwar, from the Delhi Gang-rape incident to the Badaun Girls and the Park Street case, character assassination of a victim of crime has been everything from a knee-jerk reaction to well-thought-out responses.Never miss real stories from India's women.Register Now
Right from Jessica Lall to Aarushi Talwar, from the Delhi Gang-rape incident to the Badaun Girls and the Park Street case, character assassination of a victim of crime has been everything from a knee-jerk reaction to well-thought-out responses.
Finally, the film left me with a lingering question, one that we as a community, have never learned lessons from. Who are we – as a society, as the media – to try a case? There are established apparatuses in every social set up to look into these cases when they happen, to deliver justice, and to follow a procedure to do just this. As civilians, we have every right and duty to expect and demand that this system function properly, that this system works diligently and impartially to achieve the expected ends. It is, therefore, our duty to ensure that this system works efficiently to assess Aarushi’s case, and not at all our business to decide who killed her or why. It is, therefore, our duty, to question why there were lapses in the security sector, and not condemn anyone while standing in the fringes as the final piece in the whodunit puzzle.
A police officer questioning the character of a victim endorses his belief that the victim was deserving of the crime.
Justice wears a blindfold, suggesting that it does not discriminate, ergo, he or she who has been wronged shall be served justice. There is no room for anyone “deserving” injustice. Justice also carries a balance – a representation of the fact that it is unbiased. The security sector that should support the justice system should ensure that it is unbiased in the duties it performs for the judiciary to perform its own duties. In all representations, Lady Justice holds a sword that faces downwards. For the uninitiated, the sword represents punishment, and is deliberately held below the scales, to show that evidence and the court is always held before punishment. Think about it. It’s not for you or me to decide anything, but for the judiciary to do so.
Image via Cinefames.
read more...
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
People say that women are the greatest enemies of women. I vehemently disagree. It is the patriarchal mindset that makes women believe in the wrong ideology.
The entire world celebrates International Women’s Day on March 8, 2024. It should be a joyful day, but unfortunately, not all women are entitled to this privilege, as violence against women is at its peak. The experience of oppression pushes many women to choose freedom. As far as patriotism is concerned, feminism is not a cup of tea in this society.
What happens when a woman decides to stand up for herself? Does this world easily accept the decisions of women in this society? What inspires them to be free of the clutches of the oppression that women have faced for ages? Most of the time, women do not get the chance to decide for themselves. Their lives are always at the mercy of someone, which can be their parents, siblings, husband, or children.
In some cases, women do not feel the need to make any decisions. They are taught to obey the patriarchal system, which makes them believe that they are right. In my family, I was never taught to make decisions on my own. It was always my parents who bought dresses and all that I needed.
14 years after her last feature film Dhobi Ghat, storyteller extraordinaire comes up with her new film, Laapataa Ladies, a must watch.
*Some spoilers alert*
Every religion around the world dictates terms to women. The onus is always on women to be ‘modest’ and cover their faces and bodies so men can’t be “tempted”, rather than on men to keep their eyes where they belong and behave like civilized beings. So much so that even rape has been excused on the grounds of women eating chowmein or ‘men will be men’. I think the best Hindi movie retort to this unwanted advice on ‘akeli ladki khuli tijori ki tarah hoti hai’ (an alone woman is like an open jewellery box) came from Geet in Jab We Met – Kya aap gyan dene ke paise lete hain kyonki chillar nahin hain mere paas.
The premise of Laapataa Ladies is beautifully simple – two brides clad in the ghunghat that covers their identity get mixed up on a train. Within this Russian Doll, you get a comedy of errors, a story of getting lost, a commentary on patriarchy’s attitude towards women, a mystery, and a tale of finding oneself, all in one. Done with a mostly light touch that has you laughing and nodding along.
Please enter your email address