Sheila has a good life. She is smart, has an average education and holds a secretarial job in a small time company. She is not a looker, not a success story, she is the average Indian girl who lives life taking one day at a time, looks forward to her weekends, where she can let her hair down, party a bit, watch a few movies, in effect do what any other girl her age would do. She likes to have fun, and is willing to work hard for it.
Sheila is dead.
She died within 2 days of birth. She had no say in the matter, did not even know what was happening. She never saw her first birthday, never had the chance to say her first words, walk her first steps, watch her first film, experience her first kiss, her first love, a lot of firsts lost and all the possibilities, good or bad, that life had to offer her, gone in a heartbeat. Two days is all the time she got.
On day 2 of her birth, Sheila gets up at 4 a.m. howling for her morning feed, because that’s what babies do. She is picked up; hugged tightly by her mother, nursed, put back to sleep. As she lays there, a content smile on her face, dreaming her little baby dreams, she is suddenly, roughly pulled off her small cradle and taken outside. All the time there is screaming and wailing heard… as if someone’s heart just broke into a thousand pieces. She is thrown face first into a pot of boiling hot milk. Since she is too small, (or at least that’s what they say), she does not feel much pain and mercifully dies instantaneously. Her father then takes her remains and dumps them into the nearby flowing river. All the time the wailing and screaming of the mother continues in the background. That is the end for young nameless Sheila as we know it.
It was her fault you see. She brought this on herself. What buisness did she have being born a girl in the first place? She had no right to bring this kind of sorrow to her family. The last thing they needed was a liability and she damn well knew it. She should have been more considerate towards her family’s needs. Serves her right, don’t you think? Who needs more of these kinds of insensitive people in the world?
Female feticide (termination of female babies within the womb, abortions) and female infanticide is an everyday occurrence in today’s world. Maybe what I mentioned as a way of killing is extremely cruel, some people kill using poison (I have heard of instances where poison from the Datura plant was used.), yet others just strangle them or cover their faces with a pillow and suffocate them.
We hail from the same country that worships goddesses like Lakshmi, Durga and Kali to name a few. There has to be a way in which we may be able to reach out and reduce this atrocity. I know that the people I am addressing are not my target; however, we are the people who can try to minimize this, one life at a time.
There is one more little thing I would like to bring to your notice though. It is not only the underprivilegeds who are doing this.
A cousin of mine, a social worker, informed me that surveys have shown that even the prosperous belts in the urban areas of our country reflect the same thing.
Areas with sonography/ ultrasound centers show many less female children than male.
Yes, I was as shocked as you are.
She also mentioned that the major reason for this was our dowry system.
We talk about being cultured, being civilized. Hah!
Reports also say that 50 million females are missing in Asia. The ratio is now approximately 700 girls to 1000 boys.
Feedback, good or bad, is also welcome since more opinions mean more thoughts and more ideas. And of course the most important factor behind any feedback I receive would mean that you have actually bothered to read this carefully and have spent a little time thinking about it as well, which is exactly what I set out to accomplish.
I leave you with a small poem I wrote.
Don’t kill me! Dad, Mom, stop! Please.
I am your daughter, your flesh and blood.
Give me a chance, believe in me.
I will do you proud.
I will try real hard,
Please, let me live.
I am not a feminist, nor do I want to be one.
I don’t even want equal rights.
I just want the right you had.
The basic right of all mankind.
The right to live.
I want to be a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother.
I want to experience your love and share in your laughter.
I want to be a woman.
I want to know your world.
I want to live.
I know my fate rests in your hands,
I know you cannot hear me.
But I still can’t help calling out to you;
You are the only two people who can save me.
Please, Mom, Dad! Stop! Don’t kill me!
It’s because of you that I have come to be.
By,
Shaheen Bootwalla.
