Heylow Meydaam…You waant guide?
We lie the loudest when we lie to ourselves.
In my customarily prolonged hypnopompic condition on Saturday morning, I became aware that there was a government ‘initiative’ about knickers: One needs to keep them on – preferably at all times. (And this is of course, is in stark contrast to the Policemen of the World – their governors have serious trouble keeping the mouse in the house as it were)
In India, losing one’s knickers is akin to losing face in society. Plus, it’d be bloody inconvenient, given our weather and all. Knickers are such a wonder of science – they stay on no matter what.
The elasticity of the band valiantly defies gravity thus ensuring round the clock shelter for the family jewels. And of course, a secure band doubles as the chastity belt that mummy instated when she knew it was time. Available in an assortment of sizes, textures, styles and colors – there’s something for everybody.
The magnificent cotton knit variety competes on its own steam with the seductively noticeable Lycra breed. Ubiquitous thongs worn by loose character hoes compete for shelf space with family approved granny pants. Bikini briefs, those naughty party favorites, often make their bashful debut on clothes-lines dotting every society of every city of every state.
Youngistani’s have arrived.
Since last month, I’ve been reading plenty about such a pair of knickers in the newspapers.
Apparently, they belonged to Scarlett Keeling – a 15 year old kid from Britain. Not only did she do a number on the Indian authorities by losing her knickers, the ungrateful tosser ended up dying to complicate matters even further!
Scarlett is one of the many children Fiona Mackeown sired. The evergreen flower-child of the 60’s, Fiona was on holiday with her brood of nine and set shop in Goa – the Miami equivalent of Sunkist beaches this side of Suez.
This Sharon and Tracy duo partied hard and lived up to their wild reputations as foreigner women of ill-repute. They drank, smoked, doped and barfed – all of which are usually a man’s prerogative in these parts. Of course, the male bastion doesn’t take too kindly to see their ranks filling with the likes of liberated, Ghettofabulous party people looking to get on the no-strings-attached-gravy-train.
Then Fiona made the grave mistake of leaving Scarlett in the care of someone (who she naievely trusted) in Goa while she scooted off to Karnataka for a few days. The result of this bad parenting incident was that a gentleman owner of a shanty-restaurant was compelled to rape and murder the young girl with probable help from others who may have joined him in their sordid revelry.
If any of the above makes you recoil with irrepressible rage, you will be forgiven.
Scarlett Keeling’s murder isn’t just a matter of confabulation. The young girl was obviously way ahead of her alleged counterpart in India in terms of conduct and deportment.
Much has been written about Fiona’s unconventional style of nurture. Having sired nine children with 5 men, none of whom want to take up the responsibility of parenting, Fiona has played the role of a single parent with a considerable amount of complexity. The family lives on a squalid piece of land, south of Devon in a dilapidated formation of trailers. The family survived on benefits handed out by the state and to make ends meet, Fiona home-schooled all her children.
Her own unconventional-hippy-style brought-up set the pace for what kind of relationships she would forge with her own brood. Fiona was aware of Scarlett’s relationship with a local boy when it was disclosed that she had been to visit the family planning commission. She also knew of Scarlett’s random habit of cannabis – nothing that a regular 15 year old kid wouldn’t indulge in.
While she didn’t condone either, she was vehement in giving her children the space they needed to find their own footing.
For most Indians, 15 year old children represent strife and hope – an age when they’re evidently banging down the doors of various didactic institutes in their bid to transmute into robots of computing, medicine or engineering. At 15, they’re considered to be at the epitome of their academic form and are grilled into conforming to a life of interminable examinations, instructions and appropriate etiquette to add to the wholesomeness of character.
It should then surprise citizens of the world to read about accusations being hurled at Fiona by the imminent of the judiciary and the Indian Parliament.
In what will be considered by most as an outrageous development in a country that is considered by many as an emerging super-power, Scarlett was proclaimed dead as a result of drowning in one of the many beaches coating the state. And the blame was conveniently sifted onto the weary shoulders of the bewildered and fatigued mother of nine.
What the report of her first autopsy forgot to mention were the ubiquitous marks of struggle covering most of her body and the fact that she was in fact, raped and subsequently murdered. None of this would’ve come to light had Fiona not badgered the Indian authorities for a second autopsy (Scarlett’s body was riddled with a lethal cocktail of drugs; coccaine, ecstacy, crystal meth, cannabis, bacardi breezer, beer and tequila shots; there were bruises all over her body and evidence of rape) .
Although there’s some speculation as to the identity of the culprits, new evidence in the form of another Brit national who was present at the scene of the crime, now sheds innovative light on what is clearly a bungled attempt on part of the establishment to suppress the voice of justice.
I hang my head in shame when I read of the state government’s endeavor to cancel Fiona’s visa in an attempt to proscribe her entry into the country. Their attempt at branding her a careless mother while still threatening her with calamitous circumstances should she continue her tirade against them smacks of fascism and does little for the government’s credibility.
It’s an ignominy to note that in a nation that is considered by many as the cradle of democracy, women, regardless of their nationality, are treated with appalling indignity and subjected to humiliations never mind their standing or vocation. It can’t be easy for a foreigner to be subjected to such mortification by the very people who are considered the keepers of justice.
Whatever be her style of parenting, Scarlett has as much right to a fair investigation as any other in this country. The fact that she was intoxicated and doped up seems like ludicrous justification for what followed.
This isn’t the first time that a 15 year old girl has been reported as being a statistic of substance abuse. The cultural differences between the United Kingdom and India are vast especially when it comes to the younger demography. Children overseas mature faster – in every sense of the word. They’re expected to support themselves by the time they commence their teenage years and are treated as young adolescents capable of knowing right from wrong and responsible for the choices they make.
The omnipresent availability of drugs and other chemicals contributing to substance abuse in Goa is just one of its many lures for the tourism industry. The easy availability of narcotics coupled with a robust network of human trafficking involving either gender regardless of demography have ensured lawlessness of a status not enjoyed elsewhere in the country.
It then seems preposterous for the state officials to focus their attention and channel their vigor towards illuminating the alleged travesty of parenthood as supposedly exhibited by Fiona.
The lack of empathy and the inherent duplicitous nature of the Indian government and those that abuse it successfully color me a shade of scarlet. It reminds me of the hopelessness of this predicament and many others like it in the past.
A spate of assaults on women of foreign nationality in virtually every part of the country is an indication of the ever growing gender-insensitivity that women in the country have been berating about since time immemorial. Not only are these travelers vulnerable to the cultural nuances of a foreign land, they’re often mistaken as being game for any extracurricular activity the average Indian Joe would undeniably want to indulge in and are often, rendered defenseless.
The lack of infrastructure can sometimes be made up for by the zeal of the host nation to secure the lives of those visiting it. The naivety of the foreigner has been taken advantage of several times in the past. This cannot be an isolated instance of rape; but most cases would normally go unreported due to the powerful nexus that exists between the perpetrators and those who uphold the law.
Being the party capital of the nation doesn’t help. In the face of random sex, drugs and rock and roll, instances of rape and murder don’t quite illicit the same response as if it had occurred in another city – people are inured to such isolated cases and in more instances than one, feel that the victim was asking for trouble, provocative dressing forming a largish part of this deranged argument.
But none of the above exonerates the Indian police from doing what they should’ve in the first place. When the chief minister of the state embodies a cavalier attitude and mentions callously that the mother is responsible for what’s happening because of bad parenting, it’s time to re-think your travel plans to what truly is the sin city of this country.
I shan’t be surprised if this unpleasant incident strains relations between an already émigré sensitive Britain and the tiresomely roguish state of India.
You know what they say: As you sow, so shall you reap…
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