I AM A MAN: No Rules for me !

He is 40, married and father to two young daughters. He comes home drunk, picks up an argument with his wife, beats her mercilessly with a wooden stick throughout the night, smashes her head against the wall until she starts bleeding profusely, refuses to give her food or water for 12 hours, she faints, injects her nearly lifeless body with painkillers, and when the torture eventually ceased    her breath, he slashes her head with a saw, plans to slaughter her into pieces and meticulously contrives to dispose her dissected body parts at different locations.

This is a hideous tale of a man living in the suburbs of Delhi, a plumber by profession, who chose to teach a lesson to his wife in the most horrendous manner, just because he suspected infidelity.

Oh! Hold on. I just forgot to add something here. This very self righteous, bigoted monstrous already had a second wife and a baby girl from her and very blatantly let her stay with the one she butchered in his fit of madness and inflated ego.

Being a willful husband to two wives simultaneously, he rebuffed her first wife’s ranting, had the audacity to question her if she had an extra marital affair or eyed some other man, and without a trace of humanity executed her. This to me is one of the most gruesome murders in the recent past.

Yes, we have such obnoxious men in growing numbers who exercise their supremacy with complete assertion;  flaunting their ‘male tag’ with an irrefutable authority and a non essential permission to evaluate, judge and pass on the severest of punishment to a woman who dares to voice her suppression and injustice. By the way, who is she to them? Nothing more but a commodity, use and then throw if not required.

They are merely selected, chosen, secured and then acquired to manage kitchens, cater to the families, produce future generations, bow down, keep shut, obey and provide consistent pleasures on bed. And dare she raise an eyebrow or escalate her pitch.

The nasty vultures are ready to wreak vengeance in every possible way.  It’s a choice with them, whether to grill, scare, degrade, hit, burn, or chop her. Only to remind her of her origin, her feeble identity, her duties, her sole aim.

They are bloody just women, a piece of flesh. All they have is a vagina and a pair of breasts. Serve the purpose and stay zipped. What else?

There are no equals when a man is the provider and the so called protector. He is born to dictate and make rules. He is not here to follow them.

He can own one, two or three wives or even more than that. He can relish numerous women, flirt, rape, or murder. However, the bloody, dependent, incapacitated, good for nothing woman has no reason to point a finger or question her husband, her almighty.

In case you thought this is a one of its kind example and what have you got to do with it, let me give you an insight into the alarming figures from the National Crime Records Bureau.

To simplify the data clearly states that by 2013, over 848 women were harassed, raped, abducted or killed every single day in this country. The figures have only scaled since. And the place I call home, Delhi, has become the epicenter of crimes against women.

For the judiciary, Subodh Kumar, the culprit in the above mentioned case, will be just another offender. And for the society, one more addition to the list of men who by default are cocksure of their superior gender and consider it their birth right to handle the woman in their own ways.

I understand, by now we are accustomed to such horrific, heart wrenching atrocities on women and it may not shake our conscience. But the woman, the wife and the mother in me is deeply unsettled inside, at the way the mother of two was hacked to death three days ago in the capital.

And much more agitated at the ‘pause to endure beyond a point’ , kind of rearing we fail to offer to our daughters.

Why don’t we raise our girls to respond to every affliction, every disregard with a strong opposition? Why the hell most of them are still educated to stick to their ‘pati parmeshwars’ and be exemplary in their attempts to be stable homemakers even in the worst of situations? What is the need for that uninstructed command to keep their reservoir of pain hidden? Why do we want them to suffer in silence? Only to be chopped into pieces at the hands of an utterly insensitive man?

I guess we still busy breeding a generation with perverted notions and bigger egos, waiting for more daughters to go through the same fate.