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Before everyone with internet access had a pulpit, “anger” didn’t mean what it does today. It was more often used as a description of emotions that can’t really be measured, i.e. uncountable nouns. Well, that’s the verb, the performance that news stories can often trigger. In recent days, two outrageous incidents have prompted Indians to express their justifiable outrage. But what we choose to be angry about often masks what we don’t want to face—often on display in our public lives and spaces.
the first of the two incidents was brutal Death of Anjali Singh The night between New Year’s Eve and January 1st in a DUI incident. The way her body was dragged more than 10 kilometers from her, and the allusion to her indifference and neglect towards society and the state, are perhaps the reasons why this work has garnered such sympathy. It is also a reminder of how unsafe our streets and public spaces are for women, and that the whole fabric of our social life seems to have built-in insecurity. While writing about the case, many women wondered how the 2012 Delhi gang rape and murders, ten years later, betrayed promises of policing and less violent, dangerous streets. is showing.
The second incident, from November, came to light earlier this month.Drunken Man on Flight from New Delhi to New York Pissing on a female passenger, and until now little has been done to punish him. (He has lost his job and faces criminal charges because his actions have gone public. Air India has apologized for the incident and has made international news.) In this case, the qualifications of Indian men, their constant victimization of women even where they expect basic politeness, their lack of travel etiquette, their general inability to drink responsibly (especially alcohol) is free) all at the door of a drunk unfriendly man.
Both incidents are clearly and graphically repulsive. But is this the only graphic violence Indians are exposed to? A young Muslim man says Garbha he is openly flogged by police at an event. Dalit men are beaten under the pretext of protecting cattle in which they trade. A young man on a train is killed with a knife for refusing to give up the seat he paid for. Older men are forced to chant political and religious slogans while being beaten and threatened. Adults in love are accused of “jihad”. In one state people are murdered by the police and the “encounter” is celebrated by the chancellor. In another, the police are caught on camera and appear to shoot an escapee while he is already subdued. The murderer and rapist are released, and the old man is denied a cup of soot (he dies in prison). Man killed for suspected possession of beef – police inspect meat to confirm it’s beef. This list is not exhaustive. Hardly damages the surface.
The purpose of this contrast is neither to engage in broad topics nor to target those who were touched by the death of Anjali Singh or Jyoti Singh. Rather, it is to point out that the cry for injustice is more than just morality. Our feelings of “resentment” are mediated by several factors.
The first is whether you are the victim or the perpetrator. In a time when identity politics is rife and almost totalitarian, it matters who the victims are. When the attacked person is a minority he is a member of the community, when the chant forcefully uttered is ‘jai shriram’, it becomes difficult for many to gain sympathy. This is the essence and success of the now overused term “otherification”.
The second is fear of consequences, or lack thereof. Only a select few would attempt to blame Anjali Singh’s death, often with ulterior motives. For the most part, standing with her and mourning her death is unlikely to invite retaliation, especially through social media posts. This may not be the case, for example, when the same is done to someone killed in an “encounter” or imprisoned for being a “city of Naxal”. After all, cartoons and social media posts have led to lawsuits being filed.
Third, these cases are not “polarizing”. It won’t lead to fights in family WhatsApp groups or pointless, exhausting and ultimately depressing discussions at school or college reunions. Few would say of the victims, “But these people…” And given how intimate politics has become, and how it has permeated so many aspects of our lives, it’s understandable why many of us now want to avoid these battles.
Finally, the modern form of “anger” is really driven by social media and 24/7 news in search of TRP and views. But equally, it provides us with what humans have always needed: a sense of collective action.
With all the talk about ‘135 million Indians’, we are divided on too many things, too often, even within class and caste bubbles. . So much injustice has become commonplace, so much of it has become accepted in the name of politics, that you could imagine the wounds of history and religion, so few that we can come together. Time is becoming more and more precious. If we can grieve fellow citizens we didn’t know, or strangers on planes, and claim a safer, unentitled world, perhaps we can mitigate all the injustices we turn a blind eye to.
Probably not.
aakash.joshi@expressindia.com
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