Swings & Roundabouts

19 years, 400 hearings, 40 adjournments and at the end of it, Ruchika Girhotra‘s family had no justice for the injustice meted out to them in 1990. It was in 1990 that 14-year-old Ruchika was molested by DGP Shambhu Pratap Singh Rathore and within the span of three years, drove the child to take her own life rather than face a day more of torture and harassment at the hands of Rathore and his goons.

And the punishment? Six months imprisonment and a fine of Rs 1000. That is what the life of Ruchika Girhotra is worth. That is the price of her honour, the price of the harassment her family has faced.

Shame!

A supposed pillar of the community in Chandigarh, Rathore, a Director General of Police, sworn to protect the lives of the common man, woman and child cannot keep his glands and check and molests a child, one who is the same age as his daughter and is in fact, her classmate. He, Rathore, is defended in the court of law by his wife. Not one to sit back, he keeps up a daily assault on the Girhotras – Ruchika, her ten-year-old brother Ashu and their father. Ashu is repeatedly tortured and beaten in a bid to make Ruchika take back the case. Ruchika is kicked out of school on trumped up charges and their father is harassed at work, with false cases of murder and theft filed against the Girhotras, man and boy.

After years of this non-stop harassment, Ruchika commits suicide. Not even an FIR has been filed for the atrocity committed against her and the teenager finally gives up her fight. But still her family wasn’t left in peace until they were driven out of Chandigarh, forced to take up menial jobs to survive.

Whilst the lives of the Girhotras swirled in a downwards spiral, things couldn’t be more different for Rathore. Less than a year after Ruchika’s death, Rathore gets promoted to Director General of Police. In 1999, he is recommended for a President’s Medal for Distinguished Service.

Meanwhile, the fight for justice for Ruchika continues. Ruchika’s friend Aradhana Prakash, the eye-witness, is running a signature campaign to garner support. Her family has appeared on NDTV, where Barkha Dutt interviewed various power figures like Kiran Bedi. Online petitions have been set-up, in a bid to get the President’s eye.

Will the Girhotras get justice? Will Rathore get his comeuppance? Going from the past, where Jessica Lal and Priyadarshini Mattoo got justice after a furious campaign kicked up by the people, one can live in hope. But justice? Basic rights of the common man? Truth? Do these have place in the Indian society? Or will money and power be the only currencies and, in the words of Kiran Bedi, the criminal justice system be on the side of the criminals?

..is a totally alien concept to most Indians, I know. How the hell can one just stay away when there’s a tempting morsel of gossip just out of reach? Normally one just takes this to be a regular feature of life and moves on. But when some pious individuals go out of their way to spew their venom about someone recently dead, someone who has no way of defending herself, I cannot help but be incensed.

When I first read about the Rinku Sachdeva case, I was shocked. How this was such a regular couple, him in IT, living in Bangalore etc that made it all seem too close to one’s own life and as a result, tremendously shocking at the way it ended. But other than feeling sad about the lives lost and hoping the grieving Sachdevas can somehow find a way to carry on, I didn’t think I could do anything, not having known any of the main characters. But then, on reading some of the articles on some websites, where some holier-than-thou sickos had praised Amit Budhiraj for his actions, I feel thoroughly sickened.

Here’s a sample, from Deccan Herald:

by Rajani Rao on 3/24/2008 6:44:48 AM India is abandoning the cultural values of generations by following blindly in the foot steps of rotten west.

Rinku is representation of venmous trends that are taking place in India that are failing in America.

This is a wake up call.

Amit you have done an excellent thing. Some one has to make sacrifices to bring matters to the fore.

Peace be with your soul. You did not just killed the bitch but also highlighted the alarming developments that are eroding the essence of India.

by Ram on 3/23/2008 5:03:56 PM I feel sorry for Amit. He had no choice. Had he gone for divorce, life would have been a hell for him. These days laws are heavily tilted in favour of women. All kinds of false cases would have been filed against amit had he gone for divorce. I do not know why Amit did not think of finishing off his wife’s paramour too. As women get liberated, these kinds of incidents are likely to happen often.

Who are these mahanubhavs? ‘Eroding the essence of India’? ‘…representation of venomous trend’? ANd of course, women’s lib is to blame for all this, right? Whilst repeating that I do not know anything about the people involved to make personal comments, I still feel that no person has the right to take another person’s life – which was what Amit did, when he smothered his wife with a pillow. Whether she was cheating on him or not was another story (that the police could find no evidence of this allegation is telling) – but does that give him the right to take her life? Furthermore, does it give anyone the right to cast aspersions on her character and commend him for his ‘sacrifice’?

What kind of sickos are these? Proud Indians, am sure they call themselves. These are the idiots that give humanity a bad name. They should be shot and made examples of, I say.

 

A few weeks back, a top television presenter was caught on camera doing 70 mph on a busy motorway – chatting on his mobile phone. Jeremy Clarkson is well known to Britons and to see him chatting away whilst driving his Merc was too much for the public to bear. A vigilant passerby took a picture of him gabbing away and passed it on to the Daily Mirror. The papers took him to task royally and furious members of the public wrote on public forums everywhere, asking for a serious reprimand.

When I read the article the following day, a few words stuck in my mind.

And a police insider warned that if guilty, the popular Top Gear presenter could expect the same treatment as the thousands of other road users nabbed for the same offence.

The source said: “At a time when the Government and police are clamping down on motorists putting safety at risk by using mobiles at the wheel, it’s vital that police are seen to be taking action against all alleged offenders, no matter who they are.”

Fast forward to this morning, when I came across this article on Chennai Metblogs. I mean, what do you say to this respectable member of the press, who uses his press credentials to get away scot-free and then say, ‘Some police!’! There is no point blaming the traffic cops for their ineptitude if every Johnny carries some form of a ‘Get out of jail FREE!’ card or the other. Granted, I am no major fan of the said police, after the shabby way they treated my scared brother after a drunken bastard crashed his car into my hapless brother’s but this time, I am forced to question what choice do we leave them with, if we tie their hands so, for every pitiable reason?

We constantly say ‘we are like this wonly’ when quizzed about the lax Indian attitude to most things under the sun. Are we like this wonly or are we making sure we are like this wonly?

 
Fresh out of college, I used to work for a local, city-based portal as a content writer and then later, Web Content Manager. In that guise, I met many interesting characters, attended many functions and generally led an interesting life. But of all the people I met, none affected me more than Vandana and Vaishnavi, founders of women’s charity organisation, Banyan.

I wasn’t a trained journalist so had none of the grit or the backbone needed to tough it out in search of assignments. All I had was a head full of ideas – ideas on what was great and good about my city that I could showcase on my website. Through a teacher at college, who was a good friend of Vandana, I heard of Banyan and was really impressed to learn about two women, who, in the prime of their life, threw away a regular lifestyle and immersed themselves in caring after mentally challenged women.

It sounded like a plot of a movie – too fantastic to be true. Clueless about what to expect, I asked for an appointment to visit the place to write about it. That visit and the women I saw, changed me and I honestly feel, I grew up in that space of two hours I spent at Banyan. I remember crying bitterly on my way back to work. Seeing those women, in their bedraggled state, not knowing what was happening to themselves or where they were, affected me like nothing had.

Though it has been years since I met them and the women and their organisation have come a long way since, I constantly think of them and their dedication to their cause. I cannot think of two better examples of women to salute, on International Women’s Day.

If you’d like to donate, please visit this page to learn how.

What a busy life it must be, to lead the life of the Indian Moral Police? Never a dull moment in their life, putting out moral fires in every corner of the town, saving the innocent public from the amohttp://im.sify.com/entertainment/movies/images/jan2008/sriyafunction200.jpgral denizens that are out to besmirch the Indian Culture and the rest of it. They have barely sat down after the Shilpa Shetty kissy kissy fiasco, only to bounce up over Shriya’s dress (or lack of) sense.

Actress Shriya, who played Rajini’s love interest in his hit film Sivaji, has offended the sensibilities of the moral junta by wearing a ‘skimpy outfit’. She has made the conservative heart of Chennai nearly stop by daring to appear in an “off-white dress that rode up her knees while she sat, and a plunging neckline that highlighted her hour glass figure”, that too at a function graced by the Chief Minister Karunanidhi. What a hussy!

Instead of setting an effigy of hers on fire or blowing up a few buses like they normally do, this time they actually resorted to the law! Quelle Surprise! The Hindu Makkal Katchi actually complained to the police that Shriya has offended the Hindu culture and may the long of the arm reach out, grab her and throw her in the slammer? Even more gaspably, the police declined the invitation saying it ain’t part of their job description!!

How can one make these up? Only in India, I tell ya!

As you can see from the above vid, there were cars, autos and other vehicles patiently waiting for the road to clear. The decibel level is pretty high too. This was taken at around 9 am in the morning. The same event occurred at 3.00 am that morning (or night – whichever way you look at it!). Understandably, I shot out of bed wondering what the racket was about.

Through bleary eyes, I noticed the devoted mass dancing in the streets. Whilst I do give it to them that they have every right to show their devotion in every which way that pleases them, should it encroach on others’ lives? At 3.00 am, is it too much to expect to get some undisturbed sleep?

Or is it blasphemy?

Some time back, I volunteered for a couple of hours at P’s school. Being a typical under-funded organization, the school normally asks the parents for any sort of help they can give to assist in the smooth running of it. Parents are regularly urged to devote some of their free time in counting vouchers or peeling carrots or do any one of its zillion jobs. Feeling quite self-righteous, I rolled up the driveway earlier that morning and presented myself for an hour and half worth of odd jobs. I was promptly given a form that will help me undergo CRB clearance – the UK’s standard check for anyone working with children or confidential data. Not only were they looking at a gift horse in the mouth, they were making sure the vet got a good look at it before they let it in!

Quite right, too.

As always, things of this sort make me wonder about the state of affairs at the homeland. Earlier this summer, whilst enjoying the parents’ hospitality in the maternal home, I was shocked to hear about the girl who got assaulted at school. This grim incident happened at the Kendriya Vidyalaya school, Ashok Nagar, Chennai. Apparently, a seven-year old girl had been sexually assaulted in the school premises by one of the school’s laboratory technicians. What’s more, it was alleged that one of the teachers played a role in luring this child to her molester. As if this wasn’t enough, it was rumoured that the parents of this child were cautioned not to approach the police in this regard or else. When other parents came to know of this, they apparently blew the whilstle on the matter and called in the cops.

Of course the school denied every single thing and the investigation was still going on when I returned from my trip. But everyone I spoke to on this subject stated that the rapist will get away with a minor sentence and will shrug it off soon enough. What a disgrace if that happened! If that is the maximum punishment for a heinous crime such as this, then it is no wonder it is not enough of a deterrant to others thinking of doing the same thing!

A child of seven, I ask you! My son is five and I can only recoil in horror at the implications of this. We trust our children to be safe and sound when we send them to schools and as such, have every right to believe the school would make sure our children can come to know harm. So why is it that news of this incident doesn’t seem to surprise most parents? Isn’t it a truly dreadful state of affairs when nothing shocks us anymore?

So what is to be done to ensure the safety of our children? And more importantly, why is it that they don’t merit more stringent measures to keep them safe? Don’t our young don’t warrant any serious protection? Or is it a case of ‘there’s plenty more of them so let’s not fret too much’?

As published in Desicritics.org

8:00 AM – lazy shuffle to the kitchen, grab a cup of coffee. Sip.

8.05 AM – snatch the morning papers from whoever’s got it. Open eyes.

“Blasts rock Hyderabad” – good morning India.

Why? Wha..? How? To what purpose?

All useless questions.

One humble request to the police and the stellar press photographers, like The Hindu’s Gopal: next time you click your front-page pix of these blast scenes, please think of the term ‘dignity in death’ and cover the dead before you start popping your flash bulbs. I am sure the hearts of the mums who opened Sunday papers to see the fruits of their loins spattered across the Lumbini Park grounds broke afresh on seeing it.

Regular readers of my blog know of my desperate attempts to learn to swim. After two terms of learning how to the Brit way and shelling out a whopping £ 95, I still did not feel confident enough to let go of my woggle and the flat floats. Deciding that the Indian brute force approach is the key to jolt me out of my safety zone, I signed up for some swimming lessons locally. (This also had the advantage of providing me with an easy excuse to skive off visits to the Inlaws’ joint, pleading lessons on the morrow and/or fatigue!)

My first view of a swimming pool local to me, i.e, R.A.Puram was shocking, to say the very least. The pool, after my luxurious, 50 meters length leisure centre pool, was a tiddly nothing! Plus, it was a weird L-shaped one, with nary a space for two bodies to float without getting an elbow or a foot in the others’ face. To add to it all, the sight of a patron taking a ‘shower’ by filling a dinky plastic bucket to the brim and upending it made my mind up for me – I beat a hasty retreat before the ‘instructor’ could tell me to shell out the required dough.

A thorough search and several visits later, I found a pool that was just what it was – a swimming pool. Don’t laugh at my description and wonder what else can a pool be. Loads of apartment blocks nowadays boast of a proper pool and in an effort to make it a self-paying option, get hold of an instructor and invite strangers to take a dip in their pool and learn the art of swimming. But a prior experience of such a joint has put me off it for life – the said apartments will all be lined up in a perfect rectangle, around the pool and all the maamis and aunties of the household would just camp out in their balconies in the evenings, looking at the various folks in ill-fitted swimming wear and pass comments regarding the bellies and other assorted parts of the anatomy. As I had no desire to become the evening timepass for the ladies of the nearby buildings, I signed up with this slightly out of the way but ‘what it says on the tin’ swimming pool joint.

One of the first thing I learned when I went to sign up was that the woman’s monthly cycle is a well-known and debated topic. Catching sight of ‘Pool rule #2: LADIES WILL NOT GET INTO THE POOL DURING THEIR MENSTRUAL PERIOD’ shocked the shit out of me. WTF?! I was swiftly brought back to earth by mater hissing something about the non-tamponed desi junta and I politely zipped it, mentally thinking it is no one else’s biz when I bleed.

The next shocker was when I actually went in for my first lesson and caught sight of the bodies floating in the pool – they were all frocked and tight-ed so much so not a bit of their skin was to be seen! Flippin’ ‘eck! Instantly it made me, in my Debenhams swimming cozzie, feel like yesteryear glamour artiste Anuradha, her of the thunder thighs and sleeveless outfits fame. Though I did not relish the walk of shame, I did the same mind trick I do whenever I go in for the ignominious pap smear tests – I pretended I was on a sunny beach somewhere and scooted underwater as soon as humanly possible.

If I thought the gentleman sitting in the corner was the lifeguard, I was wrong – he turned out to be the instructor. He wasted no time in recruiting the girl doing a porpoise routine to show me 1. how to put on the flotation ring 2. how to do the arm movements for breast stroke. S’s fears of the swimming masters getting into the pool to grope the women are unfounded after all!

It was day 4 today – so far, all the women I’ve met in the pool are big; have massive weight problems; have signed onto at least one gym; are desperate to lose weight – whether they are married maamis or college girls. But every single of them gladdened my heart and became free lifetime members of my fan club by going ‘you have a five-year old son? unbelievable! I thought you are a college girl!’

Yeah baby!

[For a complete list of swimming coaching centers available in your local area, check out JustDial.com]

The Hippocratic Oath, according to Wikipedia, “…is an oath traditionally taken by physicians pertaining to the ethical practice of medicine.” As even us non-medical professionals know, thanks to a decade of ER and such, upholding the Oath is of vital importance to a physician. Though segments of the original Greek words have been modified to suit the modern times, the essence of it remains the same. To do no harm to those who come in search of a cure.

I guess this is where the good doctors K Murugesan and his wife, M Gandhimathay slipped. In their eagerness to be the proud parents of a Guinness Records certified ‘World’s Youngest Surgeon’, they veered off their Oath-sworn path and well into the path of controversy. By allowing their 15-year-old son, Dileepan Raj, to perform a c-section on one of their patients, they have caused moral and ethical outrage within the medical community and across the general populace. As doctors, their duty is towards the welfare of their patient – in this case, a pregnant mother and her unborn infant. How can they put that aside and entertain thoughts of world records and such at this stage?

Not stopping at operating on that poor woman, 27-year-old Neela, the doctorsparents decided to go further and let the whole world and its wife know what a pistol they have for a son. They filmed the operation (oh the ignominy of it!) and premiered it at the Indian Medical Association’s meeting on May 6. When the assembled brethren didn’t gasp in wonder but in dismay at this, Dr Murugesan quipped, and I quote, “If a 10-year-old can drive a car and a 15-year-old can become a doctor in the US, what is wrong if my son, though not qualified, performs a surgery?”

Let’s see if we can tell the good doctor what is wrong. Googling for the Hippocratic Oath netted me the gems the doctors have forgotten:

1. To keep the good of the patient as the highest priority - Strike one – having an unskilled boy, perform a complex operation as a caesarean-section, thereby risking not one but two lives is a big no no. I cannot imagine anyone feeling better at the thought of having the proud parents hovering over their son’s hands and guiding them.

2. Never to do deliberate harm to anyone for anyone else’s interest – it wasn’t in anyone else’s interest but their own, so that they could see their son’s name on the Guinness Book of World Records. That they didn’t cause GBH to the mother or the baby is a blessing. So, strike two!

3. To practice and prescribe to the best of my ability for the good of my patients, and to try to avoid harming them – The mother of them all, ‘for the good of my patients’, has been wiped off the memory banks of the culprits. Strike three!

Three strikes, doc – you’re out!

IMA’s less than enthusiastic response and the resulting fallout possibly triggered a late reaction in his brain and Doc Murugesan back pedalled furiously to keep self and wife out of disbarment and further negative publicity. He has denied that the offspring actually took the scalpel in his own bare hands and cut open a woman’s belly. Apparently, the boy just watched, while his dad did the deed. Maybe. But what about his claim to the Kumudam Reporter that his boy has been performing such operations from the time he was 12?

With the IMA urging disbarment and the local Health Minister promising ‘tough action’ if the whole incident could be proven, the future seems a bit sticky for the doctors. But no one can get their hands on a copy of the offending video – maybe the doctors came to their senses and burned the evidence. I, for one, hope that someone locks these offending individuals up and throw away the key. What sort of a doctor, what sort of a person does such a thing?

Growing ear hair to get your name on the record books is one thing; wilfully endangering a person’s lives is a different kettle of fish. I say, punish these idiots and make an example out of them. Maybe that will deter other idiots from trying to create such vile records, like the nut who tried to make waves by performing 50 hernia operations in 24 hours.

I have an idea for a world record – the doctor who actually put the welfare of his patients above other vainglorious pursuits. How about that? Any takers?