One can complain of the delay, but the Supreme Court verdict in the December 2012 gang-rape and murder has vindicated the thousands of protesters who collectively took to the streets, who took a stand, who faced water cannons, tear gas shells and lathi charges. The outrage did not go waste.
Sunday, December 23, 2012, was one such day. Around 1 p.m., Rajpath, which connects India Gate and Rashtrapati Bhavan, was barely visible. The concrete had been replaced by hundreds of heads that bobbed up and down as people marched towards the iconic war memorial.
Jyoti's hospital reports alternated between ‘she was improving, but critical’ to ‘her condition is deteriorating’. If December 22 left the nation surprised by the number of people – an equal number of men and women - who came out to express their shock/grief/support, December 23 seemed to have stunned the protesters themselves. Accompanied by friends, I was part of them.
“ Itne log honge nahi pata tha [I didn’t expect to see so many people],” one girl, probably a college student, told a friend.
People walked in groups, each led by an individual raising slogans. “Rapist ko phasi do [Hang the rapists]”, the leader said. “ Phasi do, phasi do [Hang them, Hang them]”, the group would chant.
“Police waalon hosh mein aao ”
“ Hosh mein aao, hosh mein aao ”
“ Neta log jaag jao ”
“ Jaag jao, jaag jao ”
Policemen sat on either side of Rajpath, armed with lathis; some with rifles. Riot control vehicles were parked at regular intervals. They were subject to a lot of stares and sneers.
The protesters were disciplined by and large. But, once in a while, one of them would lose control. At one point, a visibly upset woman charged at one policeman. He warded her away with a push, fellow protesters edged her along.
December 23 also saw an ugly clash between the protesters and the police. It was later that India came to know of the extent. A constable was grievously injured [he died later], a number of people were detained, water cannons were launched, lathis rained down, tear gas was used.
News channel crews waited with OB vans at India Gate. Eager for bytes, they thrust mikes into people’s faces. People spoke. They were upset, angry at how Nirbhaya had been brutalised, how her intestines had been ripped out, how she and her friend bled on the road as they waited for help, how they lost precious time, how the police allegedly fought over jurisdiction, how they knew she was unlikely to survive but still hoped she would, how politicians and leaders remained shrouded in eerie silence.
My group had disintegrated. Some kept the slogans going, some repeated after, some held up posters and placards, some sat silently.
Couple of hours later, people started moving towards Vijay Chowk – the seat of power flanked by the North and South Blocks, Rashtrapati Bhavan right ahead.
Thinking the protesters were returning home, I walked with them. I couldn’t have been more wrong. They were headed straight for the yellow barricades staring back at them.
The slogans continued all through. Placards and posters were raised higher. Cries of ‘Hang the rapists’, ‘Justice for women’, ‘Fight for your right’, ‘We will not give up’ rang through the air. Posters with faces of women shedding tears of blood abounded.
The stretch of around 1 km was covered in 15 minutes. The Delhi Police barricades greeted us. Right behind the barricades were policemen in uniform, some in riot gear. Lined up alongside were water cannons. The protesters kept up the slogans, threatened to break through the barricades.
And then, without warning, one protester mounted on another’s shoulders attempted to jump over a barricade. She almost crossed over. The police let loose. The water cannons lashed out. Because of the cold, the water hurt even more. Policemen with lathis hit out at men, women, young girls and boys. The crowd started to crumble. Some hit back at the policemen. Some remained defiant and huddled together as the water whipped them.
I turned around and ran. I could see some people being hit, some being detained. I was trying to get away as fast as I could, trying to find a familiar face. That was when a lathi landed on my back. It appeared to be more of a warning and thankfully my jacket offered some cushion. I didn’t look back.
I wasn’t the only one. There were others, none of whom I knew. We were running towards Udyog Bhawan. It was only after we got there that that we stopped running. Thankfully, I chanced upon an auto that agreed to drop me home. Maybe it was the cold wind, or the pain, or the shock, but I shook involuntarily all the way back.
It’s been over four years since that day.
Being a journalist, I work odd hours. On any usual day, I am in office till 1 a.m. As much as I love Delhi at night, I can’t help but panic if a car or a bike pulls up alongside at a red light. My hands jump to ensure the car is locked, despite a guard being seated in the vehicle.
As a resident of south Delhi, I often cross Munirka and Nelson Mandela Marg in Vasant Kunj. These places are reminders of one of the Capital’s biggest issues – that of women’s safety. Be it Soumya Vishwanathan who was shot dead in 2008 or Jyoti Pandey, why does it take considerable outrage for the system to swing into action? Even then, the wait for ‘justice’ can wear the victim down, that is, if she survives.
Having used public transport since 2009, I've seen my share of men who prop themselves against you taking advantage of a crowded bus or metro coach, men who feel it is absolutely alright for them to look you up and down as if they have X-ray vision, men who ogle whether you wear a kurta or a sleeveless shirt.
The good part is that women are learning to stare back, pinch and hit instead of ignoring offenders. The sad part is that they are still worried about being harmed, worried if anybody will come to their rescue, worried if anyone will stand up for them.
I hope the verdict serves as a deterrent, a reminder for anyone who even considers laying his hands on a woman when she says NO. I hope it sensitises society so that no man can ever look straight into a camera and confidently declare that ‘it was her fault’, that ‘she was not a good girl and had asked for it’, that ‘she should not have resisted rape’.
