About Me

My photo
Worcester, MASSACHUSETTS, United States
Hi guys out there! Well, stories have been my first love because they make life. We all have stories to talk about, stories untold, stories locked in our hearts. I have been writing stories ever since they influenced me. Here I am with three fiction novels in my kitty. If you have a story you want to talk about, you can always write to me. Here you'll find my blog posts too which are sometimes funny and stupid because I choose to write what prevails within me. About me on a personal note: I love to write at any time. Some day, I want to be the person who creates a tiny difference in the book world. Apart from that, I do have common interests just like anybody else with an extra tint of passion for books. You can always write to me here chitalmehta1987@gmail.com or check my website here - www.chitalmehta.com

Saturday, August 18, 2012

What culture is of murder?

Indian newspapers are doing a great job by getting all the stories right under our nose for our inspection and reflection, even though the life span of these stories lives in seconds. Well, stories these days are getting gruesome and terrible that one just wants to skip or read and forget about it. After all, life goes on no matter who dies or who lives. People dying in freak accidents, people killing each other for petty reasons, people killing themselves, people hatching plans to kill their kin and oh god; you don’t want to know more. The newspapers are disturbing.

Yet, these stories are not just some random stories. They are stories about those people who had once been alive just like you and me, breathing fresh air and drinking the same water that we all drink. But, they die one day in a way nobody can ever imagine.

One such incident that shook me is the death of Shafilea, a 17 year old Pakistani girl who was killed by her parents. When I read the whole coverage on NDTV, I was amazed with the kind of research the paper had done to bring the truth to its readers. That apart, the story itself is sickening. I don’t know if there could be a better word.

For those of you who don’t know this. 17 year old Shafilea was killed nine years ago in her Britain residence because her sin was that she belonged to a Pakistani family. As she grew up, she began to wear on the Britain culture which is customary. Most of us adapt to cultures because our friends, our social life and our education depends on what’s around us than what we originally hail from. Shafileabegan to have a life of her own – western clothing, boys, social life, movies and friends. To most of us, these things are absolutely normal just like how breathing is normal. Yet, Shafileahad to pay a price too huge with her life only because she fought to live life her way.

In 2003, her father, Iftikhar, 52, and her mother, Farzana, 49, killed Shafilea with a plastic bag by stuffing it inside her mouth until her heart stopped beating. That was the end of a life full of promise to retain the Pakistani culture of being cocooned in the world where girls are not allowed to live a life of their own. I want to ask the parents, if by owning their daughter’s life, they felt proud? If so, each one of would be living another’s lives. Since when did culture become more precious than our sons and daughters? This is clearly an act of shame which has been given justice after nine years by punishing the parents with life imprisonment by the Britain Police, thank to Shefani’s sister who provided the evidence being the witness.

What most people don’t realize is that nothing is permanent. Culture, status, money, people, and world – everything changes every minute even as you and I pass through day and night. We can’t control these changes, instead we learnt to adapt by making the right choices. There is no culture in killing. Murder doesn’t save culture, it destroys it. Real culture is within us, deep inside our hearts.

One life down, squashed dreams and hopes – I hold myself together until the newspaper prints another terrible story and there goes again, another life down.

No comments: