A Pachyderm Confession…

15 04 2008

And Indeed there is a huge reason behind this post. Just now, over one of those purposeless lazy browsing of the Internet world, I came across this news where I read about a hero Keshav Vishwakarma, whose story went unsung for the current day world either would ignore his sacrifice, or laugh at his rare moral standard. Keshav Vishwakarma tried to prevent three men from molesting a 40 year old woman in Surat, and the perpetrators BURNT him alive! Such was the strength and courage of the man, that after sustaining over 75% of burns, he walked about two kilometers to the nearest police station to report the incident and got them arrested.

Somehow, reading about his incident and the bestial brutality behind it, left me grossly unsettled. What have I become? A thick skinned Pachyderm who has no care or time for the world. How easy it has become to press the ignore button about life, news channels, media and about the happenings in the environment. How comfortable it is to get into a cocoon and believe that everything is fair and beautiful. Being a woman, I had heard my share of lectures on how to be safe, silent and muted over abuse and the uninvited groping public places. Will Keshav ever have his stand acknowledged by the women, who have come to accept the rowdy pandering of uncouth youth as a daily occurrence?

This is our pride and this indeed is our shame. What’s in there to be proud about, for this incident that happened in Jan 2008 got no great publicity. The values that Keshav espoused and the courage he showed went unrecognized, and his sacrifice died a silent death. Annie Zaidi has written a moving elegy as a glowing tribute to Keshav, which pricked my conscience to no end. I am quoting it verbatim, for I would want it to be read, and for people to spend a few seconds of their precious busy lives to say a prayer for Keshav’s soul.

“This much is set, Keshav ji – can I call you Keshav?
I feel an affinity, an ease, that is hard to explain,
Considering we’ve never met, and now, never will
Yet I’m sure you won’t mind my speaking so plain –

This much is certain: you will get no memorial, no statue
No marble slab with metal plaque, saying,‘Keshav: martyr’
Nobody will say you died that we might live, or less poetically,
That you upheld a nation’s head, honoured our civilizational charter.

What you died for – were killed for – was too much an everyday thing
So you will not go down as a human rights’ champion
Nor the leader of a bunch of people with a cause
Nor a just warrior for the aggrieved, the downtrodden

Nobody’s going to write that you’re a victim of what we’ve become
Nobody’s spine with tingle with the dread of this fact.
At least, not beyond next week, when you’ll be a statistic –
For that’s the way people keep their minds intact.

Don’t mind, Keshav, it is not on purpose that
Nobody will write you a full-length obit, or
That only one paper bothered to go and dig up
Info on how you lived, and who you lived for.

Keshav, if you knew (did you?) what they’d do
Perhaps you’d have shut up and let it be
Some insults, a woman – it happens all the time
Harassment and women – like sand and sea.

You see, we women rarely bother ourselves
We’ve learnt to shut up and stay shut; some say
Our eyes are glazed with the cataract of silence
We’re told, to live safe, there’s no other way.

Keshav, stupid Keshav, what made you take on
The mantle of hero? It is not as if
Someone was looking, and those who were, looked away
(as they do). Did you think they’d help? As if!

Keshav, young Keshav (only thirty-five, good God!)
They’ll forget. Oh, they forget, they forget each time
They’ve begun to forget the mobs of new years past,
And Meher of Lucknow? Her too! This forgetting’s sublime.

Keshav, it’s true, I cried for you, but so what?
You burnt, you died, and those three will live.
Noone’s clamouring for a public hanging (women’s security
Isn’t ‘national’) so… yes, some sentence the court may give.

That is, if the police finds those three.
You actually thought they would, and you walked
After being set on fire – two kilometers!
To the police station and there, you talked.

What did you say, Keshav? What were your dying words?
Were you angry rather than scared? Or both?
That I can relate to; it’s the same with me.
That tremulous rage – frustration and fear both.

Did you wonder, as you walked, if you’d actually die?
Did someone tell you, it was your own fault?
Did they say, why couldn’t you guess at
The demons-in-waiting? That you should, by default?

That’s what they tell us; that’s how we go on.
They tell us all the time and that’s how we know
No alone. No dark street. No panga. No sharp words.
No smart clothes. No reds. No smiling. Nono.

Where did you study, Keshav? Which school?
Which blighted, mind-altering, twisted-soul place?
Who taught you? Or forgot to? What kind of friends
Did you have that they tell you the rules of this race?

This race. These people. We. Our nation.
Women. Children. Cosmic pawns playing parts.
What shall I say? Keshav, should I say something like,
You’re a hero and will live in our hearts?

Oh, who cares? Heroes! I bet you’d rather just
Have been alive and maybe all heroes feel that way
To live! That would be nice, they must think, but
They go ahead and die if they must, anyway.

Not that it matters to you any more, Keshav
The writing of this. Any words. Anything.
You were burnt alive before you were properly burnt
And maybe you never did care of what poets sing.

I’d bring you flowers if you had a grave.
I’d build you a statue, if I had a piece of land
I’d write in big letters – ‘Look! This is our shame
And this our pride. This murder is man.’

Listen, Keshav, it is too late, but listen.
Wherever you are, lie in peace, now it’s over.
And know that you stepped up higher than man.
(And lower than man… even God sank no lower)

I’ll spare you the platitudes about how you are free
Or how, in heaven, the apsaras long to kiss you
But this fight you’ve fought, I’ll fight to the death
But Keshav, brother, in the meantime, we’ll miss you.”



5 responses

15 04 2008
Roop Rai

wow, thank you for this. I’ll read up his story in detail.

25 04 2008

Hi Friend,

A very nice touching blog. I read this news long back and saved as my favourites. He inspires me, every I read the story from the link: http://www.ibnlive.com/news/man-saves-woman-from-molesters-killed/56662-3.html.

But one thing, Is there a way that we can check if he has some left over family that we can take care of. I wish to show the gratitude this way. Please let me know


26 04 2008

@ Roop Rai
U are welcome.
@ Kiran
Thats commendable initiative. IBN Live article is the only source I have too. May be you can write to them.

10 03 2010

it’s good.

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