The
dust is slowly settling down. The Delhi braveheart's funeral pyre is
now ash, her last remains by now perhaps one with the Ganga's already
overburdened waters. The sordid year has just breathed its last.
Now, I believe is the time to spare a thought for the one shining
example that may have saved Indian chivalry from complete degradation.
One man, who, when we were all expressing our anguish, silently felt the
worst. The man who saw it all in all its gruesomeness. While the
graphic descriptions of the gangrape have shocked us, only he was
scarred for life.
Stoic silence may mean anything -- a deeply
disturbed mind, or plain fortitude. Because what he lost two weeks back,
and again following her death, was much more than a relationship or
perceived self-respect. What he lost was perhaps all that he was made up
of.
As the six brutes took
turns to snuff out the torch of manhood, one man lit a candle -- a
candle much more brighter than those held by all of us angry souls.
So, here's to THE man. To, perhaps, 'Nirbhaya/Amanat's' only friend in need.
A tribute to his courage, silent suffering and sheer tenacity.
Salute, sir!
