Shame!

The happenings of the last one week have brought into the open the glaring difference between a functioning democracy, and a namesake one. India has long prided itself on its democratic institutions, its ability to protect the truth from the vagaries of the State. And yet, this pride seemed misplaced when the Nanavati Commission Report was placed before the people. 20 years ago, thousands of people of the most patriotic and dedicated communities in India, the Sikhs, were butchered, burnt alive, and tortured to death, seemingly to atone for belonging to the same community as those who assassinated the then Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi. And that too in the heart of the Indian State, the capital city of Delhi. And as I read my newspaper today, just a few miles from the heart of the Government, in Lutyen's area, Sikhs were killed despite their being esconsced in the homes of legislators. But then who's to blame?

The Commission exonerates the man who should have had the most influence in those troubling times. The grieving son of the dead PM, the soon-to-become PM (don't ask me how this works, I am still trying to figure it out) makes a statement, seemingly justifying the carnage. He said, "When a great tree crashes to the ground, the earth is bound to shudder." Nice words, brilliant even, except the shudder he spoke of took the lives of thousands, and robbed many more of the semblance of a normal existence. The earthquake shook the confidence of a community in a nation, which could not protect them when they needed it the most. And then we call them militants? Who made them out to be so? Who pushed them to the wall?

The Commission is ambiguous when it comes to accusing the men, whom the whole of Delhi knew and believed to be the prime movers behind the horror. One of them, until recently a member of the Union Cabinet of Ministers, was forced to resign by the Opposition parties, and his Government's allies, when the Commission hinted at the possibility of his being responsible. And yet, he has the temerity to claim that he will return as pure as a lamb.
Justice delayed is justice denied. But here, what came in the hands of the families of the victims was neither delayed justice, nor justice by any definition of that word. It was a mockery of their suffering, a charade of their tears.
In 1984, members of the Sikh community were stripped off their ceremonial turbans, tied with the same cloth, bound by burning tires, and then left to slowly burn to death. Sikh mothers, fearful for the safety of their children, forced them to cut their hair, a sacrilege of the highest order for the Sikhs. That the State failed to assure them of its ability to protect them is not only saddening but downright abominable. And we call ourselves civilized?
If we are to serve penance, if we desire to atone for this act of horror, then it is required that we rise above our parochial commitments, our regional affiliations, and unite as a people, and identify the demons within us, who desire to kill, and then destroy them. Conducting an investigation for 20 years isn't justice, it's a charade. And there's only one ending for such a charade: Tears and more tears.

Those desiring to know more about this horror, visit http://info.indiatimes.com/1984/