Monday, June 2, 2014

gender voilence- an old but new epidemic


Gender violence is one of the world’s most common human rights abuses. Women worldwide ages 15 through 44 are more likely to die or be maimed because of male violence than because of cancer, malaria, war and traffic accidents combined. The World Health Organization has found that domestic and sexual violence affects 30 to 60 percent of women in most countries.

In a column in The Hindustan Times, Sagarika Ghose, an author and commentator, wrote, “A profound fear and a deep, almost pathological, hatred of the woman who aspires to be anything more than mother and wife is justified on the grounds of tradition.”
The official explanation for many of the deaths of “missing women” is that they died from accidents or injuries, but there is little reason to believe that Indians are especially clumsy or accident-prone, the researchers said.
Rape and domestic violence are words that once removed from the immediacy of the event , wether by time or  a mind set in emotional distance, just becomes just too clinical, almost devoid of all that went with it , attached to it. Hence it becomes mere words at some point and yet  at other times unreal. The Indian student's death sparked an outcry, and it quieted down.Now something is again awakened ever so breifly in the rape and death of someone else. All those who are harrassed, go through the spacing , almost ritualistically, pushing it out  with time. You are lucky if you have done something in a retaliatory fashion , however small, because that alone gives you a certain sense of wholeness.
How-ever, when it is repeated violence , at home,or what surround you,nay follow you in society,  then  the fabric of self gets worn...gradually shredding your identity. Thus you are no more a whole,but only peices, as if they are all different in someways, and  the person that is you become some flyaway bits you are always gathering up.
Sometimes pushing back can be more damaging, so you wait for a chance and selectively defend parts of your integral self. Some just push it all into a sac that grows wearisome with time, then gets scarred over and your soul gets a little bit darker, as you go through life, never again conciously touching that scarred over foreignness...just barely knowing it , just barely being.
Then, some thing stirs and you remember, your wholeness, almost with the uncertainity of a dream... The memory of a whole follow you , a shadow that evolve, as the scars scale up and fall in bits...you trail through like with the shadow a constant companion, even as you seek that elusive wholeness...