It’s amazing how self absorbed one can be, especially when an “achievement” is involved. I am, of course, referring to our team’s stellar performance in yesterday’s half marathon. Well, yes, OK, OK, in a bit of the half marathon, to be precise.
Although much has been happening today here in Delhi, to be honest I have hardly paid any attention to anything other than a constant stream of messages and updates from all the other ladies with whom I trained and ran. We have tracked down our finish line photos. We have downloaded our online certificates. And we have all, I suspect, basked a little in our group/individual glory. We all feel very pleased with ourselves, I suspect.
I remember feeling the same kind of self-absorption when I came back from Mentok Kangri, so I do know that normal service will soon be resumed, and that I will get caught up in the daily news and happenings, but for today, at least, there’s a certain feeling of detachment.
Bear with me.
That’s it. Boasting over and done with.
There is, however, one thing today that cannot be avoided nor overlooked.
A year ago today, December 16th, a young 23 year old woman was brutally gang-raped here in Delhi, violently sexually abused, brutally injured, and she was to die a few days later from her horrific injuries.
I have just reviewed my posts from a year ago, and the one thing that frightens me is the number of rapes and attacks that I blogged about, and about which one has subsequently heard nothing at all. As in nothing. No follow-up on either the victim nor the rapists. No news of convictions. Nothing. If you can bear it (they make for grim reading) just pick out any of my posts from late December 2012/early January 2013 and you will see what I mean.
And I have patently failed in my job as a blogger, because despite my outrage at the time, I failed to follow up and raise whatever stink one woman’s anger can do. How shamefully quickly one forgets.
And as if to mark the anniversary of that cold foggy night a year ago, today is the first proper foggy day of the winter.
All year long, ever since that poor girl was raped, the press have used a pseudonym for her (“Nirbhaya” which means fearless) even though her real name is known. Can’t we start using her real name now, at least, as a sad little form of tribute?
The only thing I can think that has changed since last December is that at least sexual attacks and sexual abuse are now well and truly out there as subjects to be discussed. There is none of the coyness that was there before. It is tragic that this may well be the only major change since last year…