“Next station is Pragati Maidan. Please mind the gap,” said the Delhi metro lady.
As I Netflix-ed my phone, the chatter in the ladies coach numbed my ears. But a lady in formals caught my attention. “Did you watch Payal Rohatgi’s new video?”, she asked her friend who seemed busy with her phone. “What if it is true? What if that girl in Unnao is trying to spread lies against MLA?”. Her busy friend looked at her and said, “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know yaar. And I don’t care.” The seemingly worried lady did not stop, “I strongly feel this girl must have liked the MLA’s son. Must have been from a lower caste. So, the MLA must have refused. So she had to do something na.”
All I wanted to do was a massive facepalm. Where’s the empathy, people? And this metro conversation isn’t the only incident I have witnessed. Comments on social media posts, panelists on prime time news debates, people in your neighbourhood—everywhere, you’ll find a gruesome lack of empathy. It’s sickening and disturbing.
I believe empathy can do wonders. I believe empathy can lead to major uprisings, revolutionising the system. I believe empathy can change lives. And this feeling will not spring overnight. And it does not die down overnight either. Years of a systematic approach can destroy this strong emotion.
I can’t write a call-to-action. I am just too numbed by the gruesome details that emerge every time a rape happens. Humanity has crossed all its decency. Or maybe I have lost hope. I shouldn’t, I know. But as long as monstrous rapes keep happening, and people like the metro ladies exist, I have no place for hope for a better world. My optimism does not deserve a place like this.