A country Burns ... for Nonsense.

India burns for a woman who was born a few hundred years back. People fighting and blood boiling ready to kill , to burn property worth crores, to shout and protest ...To React .
They cannot tolerate to see her midriff , cannot bear to see her dance or even her dupatta flow off her head.
When they shout in ager and hit out in foolish rage, a girl is being mutilated in the very next street. Her soul is being scarred with wounds that will never heal. Her modesty being outraged as if it was food on a plater served to hungry demons whose eyes see no humanity, whose hands know no boundaries of respect,  whose hearts are colder than ice, who have no soul and have made it their life's purpose to rip it out from others too.
As she screams in pain and terror , bleeding from body , mind and soul, no brother fights for her, no buildings are set on fire, no voice is raised in fury.
She screams alone, fights alone and then sets off on a journey alone. A journey that will give her blisters on her feet and wounds in her heart . A journey that will force her to meet people who will treat her wounds with acidic questions and judgements that will tear into her very existance.
Nothing burns for her because she is not a royal or a politician. But she is a daughter of the land , a land that gives birth to her, watches her grow and flourish and then shuts its eyes and ears and mouth.
Gandhiji gave us the 3 monkeys , but we , as usual , learned it the wrong way.  Now, we cover our eyes, close our ears and shut our mouths when we see an evil deed.
So, lets leave Bhansali and his Padmavati alone because a lot of nameless Nirbhayas need a lot more than sympathy.