“I do not
hesitate to say that even if there is only one man in Massachusetts who is
opposed to slavery, he should effectively withdraw his support from the
government, both in person and property, without waiting till the majority is
on his side. For, he is not alone. Any man more right than his neighbours
constitutes a majority of one already” – Henry David Thoreau
In the close
to three years that I have heard Arvind Kejriwal’s theses on decentralisation
of power, I have never been so scared of it. Call it my naivete or the
desperate need for a political party
that spoke my language I, like many others had started believing – almost –
that corruption is the mother of all ills. Even if in my heart of hearts there
was a niggling doubt about a political party which seemed to draw its economic
policy from the vaults of the extreme left and its morality from the rabid
right.
Till I bumped
into Somnath Bharti.
But before
elaborating on the now infamous Bharti – not that he needs any, “sirf naam hi
kaafi hai” – it is important to understand that Delhi beneath its glitz and
malls, is really many cities in one. For now let’s limit ourselves to only two
of those avatars. The heart of Delhi - its villages - jostling for space with
its posh façade. Munirka and Vasant Vihar, Khirki and Malviya Nagar, Madipur
and Punjabi bagh – the list is endless. And like any cosmopolitan city, Delhi’s
colonies are a mishmash of cultures, languages, food habits and value systems.
That’s the
part where Somnath Bharti comes in and Kejriwal’s promise of a Mohulla Sabha
becomes a demon waiting to strike. I do not know whether there really was a
drug racket running in Khirki but anybody who has lived for a decent period in
Delhi or for that matter in any Indian town, city, village, kasba whatever
would know that prostitution is, in most cases a subjective term, applied
loosely for a bunch of women whose dress, company, habits or morality are at
odds with that of their neighbours.
Especially
if you are a single woman staying in Delhi, the entire neighbourhood often
makes it their business to “discipline” you. As a young journalist working in
Delhi I have had officious old neighbours (not my landlady) walk up to me and
ask why I cannot come home sooner that the 9-10pm that was my wont. “I usually
come home later,” I had chosen to reply before walking away.
But now with
the likes of Somnath Bharti on the prowl, I may need to heed to their curfew or
the moralities of myriad neighbourhood uncles who may not like it if some of my
male friends choose to crash for the night after a long party or may think that
or my skirt and boots combo amounted to soliciting clients. And god forbid
should there actually be a mohulla sabha, they can probably even decide “punishments”
like the kangaroo court in Birbhum did.
Okay that’s
probably an exaggeration.
May be they cannot but AAP has set a
precedent of taking a debate that at least in part is about how women should
conduct themselves to the Rail Bhavan roundabout for two days and told me that
it is being done for security of women like me. Much like khap panchayats who
have nothing but the protection of women’s “honour” in mind, do. Yesterday it
may have been African women but what is going to stop eager guardians of
morality who now have the chief minister’s “anarchist” support for their
policing, to widen the net to everybody else in the city.
Prostitution
does not endanger women’s security, moral policing does. And while I may be
able to live with an odd incident of corruption – haven’t I done so all these
years – I cannot vote for a party that seeks to institutionalise moral policing
and call it a “movement”.
