Picking up the pieces

For the past several days, the story of Falak, a 2-year old battling for life at AIIMS, has dominated the media. Outrage, shock, sickening – the words that have been bandied about. Now, I am no women’s libber in male disguise – heck, if allegations are true, am a male chauvinist to the core, though please don’t call me a male chauvinist pig – the pig community might take offence!

Coming back to Falak, I am just trying to gauge the mental make-up of the person who has pushed her into that condition. Conjuring up that kind of rage to bash up an adult, who one might have a grudge against, is difficult enough for most people – I say most because I seriously consider myself to be demented enough to do it to quite a few people I have met in my life.

But against a 2-year old? That’s what has puzzled me over the past few days. How does one bring himself/herself up to that point where one can without remorse pick up an infant, bash its head against a wall or something hard repeatedly, break every bone in that little body, bite it and then just leave it to die? I mean, I am not the most sane person walking this planet, but this insanity is even beyond me.

When the news first came out, I wish I could tell that little girl: Dear Falak, think you would be better off departing from this world. There’s nothing really great about this world. So sorry you had to come and experience it for yourself. yours sincerely, leftovers of humanity.

But then, it’s not my choice to make. She’s probably destined to live and medical prognosis doesn’t give a very rosy picture of her future. So far, she’s survived enough to be taken off life support, though she continues to be critical. What she makes of her life, only the years to come will tell, but maybe, her survival is indication enough that she’s here to achieve something special in her life. Hopefully, Falak can pick up the pieces of her life and piece them together again.

But what of a woman battered by sexual abuse by her husband’s family? Was watching a TV programme, based on real-life crime incidents, of a young wife, raped by her husband’s younger brother at the family’s behest repeatedly for not getting enough dowry. Must admit when the story-line of the crime became clear, was just too depressed to continue watching and switched it off. I suppose the Indian Penal Code does not advocate death by extreme and painful torture – it would be useful for cases such as these.

And lastly, about the man who’s two young sons and wife perished in an unfortunate terrorist incident right in front of his eyes, for no fault of his, and who still continues to go about his daily tasks. How does he live – is his daily life a constant struggle, waiting for the day when he will be re-united with his family in afterlife? Or is there some hope in his heart? And what could that hope be, possibly? Perhaps the outside world will never know.

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