10 things Vikas Dubey's killing says about India
'The sheer not-so-suddenness, the expected nature of the move, the predictability'
Tomorrow, if all goes well, on the edit page of a newspaper which can still be called a newspaper, will appear a thoughtful piece on the #VikasDubey killing.
The headline could well be “The Brutal Republic”, only the constraints of space preventing an angry sub-editor from sticking a Banana in 56 points into the mix.
The byline will be a familiar one that has left readers confused on the day after every major news event for over 20 years: Gujaratima, ya sadda Punjabi?
And it will say some blazingly obvious things about a nation in crisis, in a chronological manner that they don’t quite dig at Harvard and Oxford.
Inter alia, always inter alia, ‘The Brutal Republic’ will point to:
One, a President who cannot insert 280 characters into his Twitter window without wondering how many characters it might hurt outside of it. The commander-in-chief who cannot hold the moral compass when everyone seems to have lost their way.
Two, a prime minister who cannot grand-stand today because a “fake encounter”—known as a cold-blooded murder by 130 crore Indians—touches a raw nerve, given how many of them he presided over in the 13 years leading up to these six.
Three, a home minister who also cannot squeak because it represents a major conflict of interest. After all, Sancho Panza, who made the “morning walk” sound such a treacherous exercise, cannot violate the oath of office by revealing “state” secrets.
Four, a chief minister who cannot show remorse or contrition for a dead Hindu or a living Muslim, because in his worldview, doing so is a dangerous sign of weakness; a black mark on the CV that could affect future career prospects.
Five, a judiciary whose eyes have gone so hazy, whose ears are so weak, that it can’t see a blindfolded woman laying splattered on their desks, her scales of justice a tangled mess, as rational law gets run over by natural law on a rainy highway.
Six, a police and bureaucracy so ham handed that they first let #VikasDubey get away hundreds of miles and, when they are handed him, cannot fetch him back safely without goofing up on the car, on the mask, on the alibi.
Seven, a media that eats out of government hands and dishes out certificates now asking questions on law and order, a media that openly speculates if he will be “caught or encountered” as if that is supposed to be the natural order of things.
Eight, a religious/spiritual order which watches blithely while everything we knew to be good and great about this country is destroyed by a mutant, militant form of a fine religion, and which stays silent while human beings are killed in cold blood.
Nine, a compromised corporate climate which feels dutybound to beat the drum for every excess, even when your own brand name is sullied by association. Or, stay silent, to explain away the latest brutality.
Ten, a public which can only view everything through the prism of caste, which cheers and applauds India’s precipitous descent, a free fall into the abyss of anarchy, dragging them along the way.
Meanwhile, Vikas, traced after six years, dead inside 24 hours.
In fact, Vikas, dead on arrival.
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A dead Vikas Dube is better than creating a live Shahabuddin