Jayachandran

Many in India (not many men, who take politics to fill their pocket) are thrilled with the passage of Women’s Reservation Bill in the Rajya Sabha. Soon it will be tabled in Lok Sabha for vote. Great. But does more representation of women in the law-making process mean anything, when you come across this news?

Sushma Tiwari married a man named Prabhu Nochil in the year 2004. Few months later, her brother Dilip Tiwari and his friends killed Prabhu, Prabhu’s father and two children. Why didn’t Dilip kill his sister? Because, his pregnant sister was out, visiting someone, at the time of murder. Why did Dilip Tiwari do this crime? His family belongs to Tiwari where as Prabhu was an Ezhava from Kerala. Why does that matter? – don’t ask me because I give a damn to religion, caste etc. The Bombay High Court awarded death sentence to Dilip Tiwari and his friends. But last December, the Supreme Court of India reduced their sentence to 25 years in jail. What surprised me is the reasoning of the honorable judges behind their judgment!

“It is a common experience that when the younger sister commits something unusual, and in this case it was an intercaste, inter-community marriage out of [a] secret love affair, then in society it is the elder brother who justifiably or otherwise is held responsible for not stopping such [an] affair. … If he became the victim of his wrong but genuine caste consideration, it would not justify the death sentence.” It also added: “If he became the victim of his wrong but genuine caste considerations, it would not justify the death sentence… The vicious grip of the caste, community, religion, though totally unjustified, is a stark reality.”

I am not in favor of capital punishment. I believe a human has no right to kill another human. Period. But if Dilip Tiwari and his friends are guilty, why can’t they be sentenced to jail till they die of natural death?

To read more about Sushama Tiwari’s response, click here.

Few days ago India talked to Pakistan – a country that cannot be described as a composite nation-state in the conventional sense. When it comes to issues pertaining to India, Pakistan can easily be divided into five segments – (1) the army, which controls Pakistan’s political, economic and military destiny whether formally in power or nominally in the barracks (2) the ISI, the all-encompassing superpower in the Pakistani establishment, which functions as a state within the state (3) its civilian Government, an insecure entity that has little popular legitimacy, is powerless against the Army and the ISI and hopelessly divided within (4) the Jihadi groups, both overground and underground and finally (5) a small, elite civil society comprising well-heeled, English-educated socialites, more comfortable waxing eloquent on Indian TV channels when they are not busy sojourning in London. Each is at loggerheads with the other. Only time they fuse into a collective entity is when Pakistan is at war with India.

Given the above, was there a need for India to talk to one-fifth of Pakistan – the civilian Government? Talks should not have happened at the first place, especially when the latter has not taken any concrete steps to punish those involved in 26/11 terror attack. And as all expected, there wasn’t any outcome worth to mention.

Here is what one newspaper wrote about the concluded talk: Watching from the sidelines, the entire drama that played out seemed surreal. It was like a neighbor walking into your house saying “You have a lovely lawn. Give it to me.” You refuse. He slaps you hard and keeps assaulting or insulting you endlessly. Finally, you get so scared you invite him over for tea. He walks in, reiterates his claim and adds a few more items to his wish-list. He has, meanwhile, mobilized the local goonda who stands guard, intimidating you further. Obviously you can’t accept the preposterous demands. So he slaps you again and walks out threatening more violence. You cower into a corner, tremulously awaiting the next assault!