Thursday, March 21, 2013

Delhi gang rape

I write it and you read it. I say it and you hear it. And we both know which one it is. We know EXACTLY which one.

Strange. Strange because this city sees it happen every day.

How did you know which one it was?

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

death, noise and silence

A few days ago, my nieghbour died. He lived in the house just opposite mine. He was 16 and spastic. He was bedridden and couldn't move. They never brought him out of the house. We never realised he lived across from us. We have been living accross him for close to 2 years now.
We used to see his sisters, father and grandmother all the time. We never saw his mother. Now we know why.


Then we heard the wailing. Someone else from the nieghbourhood gave us the news of the death.  Relatives from everywhere descended upon their house. So many that they had to set up outdoor seating in the park. Like we did when my grandmother died. That's the noise that death brings.
The silence stays in your head.


It is hard to imagine what his family must be feeling. Did he know who they were, did he know how many lives he has touched? His younger sister is only 5. Does she understand death? She cried the loudest. I heard her and woke up. Someone was trying to console her, but she couldn't hear them, she could only hear her tears.

The priest rang a bell over her tears. I heard that as well.

Yesterday a woman I had never seen before stepped out of his house. I think she was his mother. Freed. Perhaps. Or perhaps just running away from the memories that lay inside.