The Shaken Heart

It was a bit more humid in Chennai that evening. “Mamma, it’s hot. See I am sweating,” my little boy complained. I just took him to the terrace of the third-floor building, then we were living. cool breeze was blowing from the sea, the beach was around a kilometre away. On that particular day, I had not taken him to the beach. Though we normally spend four to five evenings a week there. He liked to play and run around on the beach with sand. In that evening he started playing on the terrace with his toys. While he was busy playing with the neighbour’s kid, who was living on the second floor of the same building, I chatted with her mother about general things. They left after a while and my son started playing alone. So, we just came towards the end of the terrace from where we could overlook the road. In the evening the road was a little crowded, as usual, lights were on the street. We could see the opposite building that was just parallel to ours.

Suddenly, we heard a scream of a female voice. She was talking in Tamil, scolding someone, the next moment I located the sound was coming from the first floor of the next building, I saw a man and a woman, the man was walking back, just a few moments before he had stabbed his wife who was bleeding and screaming. We could see through the glass, she had pressed her stomach with her palm that was full of blood. She was trying catch hold of that???, man and shouting loudly. The man was least bothered, he got down on the steps and rode a motorcycle that was parked in front of the building and fled away. Many people from the neighbourhood gathered there, we could see they were trying to give first aid to that lady. We were just watching as mute spectators from the distance, trying to figure out what had happened. Completely shocked by that sudden incident, I carried my son and decided to stay back there to find out further. I did not know whether to go there or not. Someone had called the police, maybe the landlady of the house where the incident took place. Police came and recorded the victim’s statement and went away. As regards the victim, some kind-hearted person took her to a nearby hospital for treatment.

Motionless in fear, I just regained my composure and went down, and joined the people conversing on the road near that building. The victim was the maid of that house, she had come to do her daily work that evening, and her husband who was not staying with him, following some quarrel and domestic violence had come to take her mangalsutra which was provided by the groom” s family. When trying to snatch forcefully from her neck, she protested and in return she was stabbed by her husband. Luckily the injury was not that deep, she shouted in her defence and the predator fled.

I came back home a little later and stood at the door for some time and pondered over what had just happened. All these years in my stay we shifted so many houses, and obviously, every time had a new maid. Each if them had a different issue in the family. But everything can be termed as domestic violence or violence against women, from suspicion of infidelity, money extraction, abuse, and physical assault and living on wife's or daughter's earnings were common. Some resisted, others only opened their mouth after turning a bit of familiar with me. These were the stories of little bit socially and economically backward-class women. If you dive deeper into middle class or so-called upper class, stories were almost the same. Somewhere with hush-hush, somewhere it was visible. I was wondering if the man had just come to snatch the golden mangalsutra, then why did he carry the knife? He had definitely planned to hurt or may be, even to kill her.

This incident had happened more than a decade ago. But still, there has been only marginal improvement in the condition of the domestic workers. As the new mothers of that time have tried educating their offspring so that they do not suffer the same way, that has improved their living conditions to an extent. Still, a long distance to be travelled to reach gender equality or at least, to bring about a change in the mindset of our patriarchal society.

We often see that whenever a man drinks, he hits his wife or other women in the family. So ultimately, women- the so-called weaker gender become an easy target. Many a time we have heard irresponsible comments and remarks of the powerfully positioned blaming the victims; and that gives a kind of encouragement to the predators.

Stronger laws, stricter implementation, sensible policy makers, responsible law enforcers and well-behaved citizens can make a huge difference. The law-enforcing authorities, in particular, must not give in to any political and other kinds of pressure. In our so-called progressive society, when we talk about women's empowerment, we should teach our boys and men how to cope with their insecurities. The boys must be given a good upbringing and be taught how to behave with girls and women from their childhood. If needed, counselling from early adulthood should be considered. If we adopt all these steps, we as a society may succeed in keeping women folks safe, to a great extent.

Here is a small poem I have written on this topic:

Be it evening or dark night.

Within four walls of home or in a flight

Deserted place or may be in public sight.

Could even in a broad day light

Predators are everywhere, no respite.

We need a hard, bitter fight 

Must teach our sons what’s right.

Only then can we live in peace and coexist.

*****