It's the girl's fault, as always!

I was seven years old when I heard the word 'Suryanelli' for the first time. It was splashed in all newspapers and the television, and I used to hear this word frequently from my dad’s conversations with his friends. Out of my never-ending curiosity I asked my mom, “Amma, What is this Sooryanelli case?” I don’t know what was going through my mom’s mind. She might have thought that I was too small to know about that, she might have worried about the answers she has to give me for my further questions.

Sixteen years after that conversation, in 2012, I got to visit her. For the world she was Suryanelli Girl. Though she is in her mid-30s now, the world still calls her Suryanelli Girl...

When I called her dad and lawyer, they asked me to be at her home by 10 am. I was overly punctual and was there by 8:30am. When I called her dad, a man in his late 60s, he asked me to come in. I was welcomed by her mom. They spoke to me about the pain and torture they were undergoing for the past 16 years, about the day which changed their life forever, about the sordid, hypocritical society of Kerala, how their family members and the society in general alienated them, how the authorities who should have protected her rights as a woman and as an individual threw her into the depths of betrayal, how their lives were shattered forever….

They were a happy family. Her HH  father was a central government employee and mother was a nurse. They had two daughters. She was the youngest, and compared to other kids of her age she required special attention and care. Her parents also wanted to give her the best education. She was admitted to a convent school far from her home and was put up in the school hostel. Though she was 14 years old then, she was not mature enough for a girl of her age. Every weekend she came from school hostel to her home in a local bus. Her dad picked her up from the bus stop. Owing to her frequent bus journeys, she became friendly with the bus cleaner. One day, she was showing her photographs to her friend, in the same bus, when Raju came and snatched away the photograph from her. When she asked him to give it back to her, he said that he will return it to her. But things took a turn here; Raju started threatening her after this. He asked her to go with him. When she refused, he threatened her again by saying he will morph her photographs and will stick it on the walls of her dad’s office.

That weekend, she was not found on the bus she usually takes. Frightened parents ran from pillar to post in search of her. Raju took her in another bus and got down before the fixed destination without her noticing. And that was the first scene of a well-plotted script.

When she got down at the destination told by Raju, she found him missing. Confused and frightened, she decided to go to her uncle’s place. Enter  Usha, as per the script.  She promises to take her to uncle’s place and while they were about to start, Dharmarajan, the kingpin, entered the scene. He takes up the responsibility from Usha and assures to take her to her destination. Instead, she was taken to a lodge, where she was raped by him. That was the beginning of her never-ending torturous days.

She was passed on from one place to another, first to one person then to another. She was brutally raped by the most common to the most (so called) sophisticated members of this society to which you and I belong. When she refused to obey, she was beaten up. Some forcefully made her drink alcohol. 

After 21 days, she was send home with the bus fare and a pounded, wounded body and heart. She was first taken to the police station and then to the hospital. A case was filed later on.

Here began the fight of a family against a hypocritical society and its big shots. They were never ready to give up; they couldn't really just give up. The family started getting calls from prominent leaders and assorted people. Some threatened them, some begged them, and some offered them huge amounts of money. The family didn’t succumb to any of these pressures.
They were ostracised from the society. Her father was not even intimated about his mother and brother's death. They were kept away from all family functions. There were times when people would come till the verandah of their house in Suryanelli and ring the bell, just to see ‘the Suryanelli girl’.

Once the trial began the kind of questions she faced from the lawyer of the accused were deplorable. When the accused understood that there is no point threatening her and her family, they started spouting allegations against her, even saying that she was a child prostitute. That she went with Dharmarajan with the consent of her parents – it went on and on. The family still chose to fight. They were forced to leave their place for the sake of peace of mind that anonymity could bring them. The state government headed by E K Nayanar provided her job as a peon in the Kerala Sales Tax Department

While I was sipping the tea she served me, her dad continued.

“See, we both are in our 

late 60s, a time when we should be sitting back and playing with our grandchildren. My eldest daughter is not married yet. Can you imagine a life where you have nobody to communicate to, nobody to share your grief with, and nobody to support you mentally? Can you imagine of not attending your own mother’s funeral? Do you understand the pain when we are not informed about any of the functions happening in our own family, when we are being detested for something we are not responsible for? Can you imagine how it is when a good majority of our world propagates that my own daughter is a prostitute and that we were supporting her because we were money-minded? If money was what we wanted, our lives wouldn't have been like this. We could have taken up the umpteen offers that came our way. We've spend our entire life's savings on this case. We are not able to go out; our lives are confined in these four walls. Yet, we are still battling the case. I won’t allow any of them leave Scott-free. I am not ashamed to say that I am ‘the Suryanelli girl’s' father. We didn’t back off from our statement or decisions.  We did what we should have done. Life during these 16 years was not easy, but we didn’t commit suicide”.

While taking my leave, I searched for some words to console them, but came up empty. Tears choked me, and I somehow managed a weak goodbye.While I was about to get inside my cab, a decent-looking man came to me and asked me the purpose of my visit. When I told him that I am a journalist, he said, "Madam, don't you have any other work? That girl was a prostitute, and they did everything for money only."

I gave him a sharp look, but I don't think he even noticed. While travelling back, there was only one question I kept asking myself... When will we stop victimising the victims? It's a funny world we live in.What kind of people are we? What if it was your daughter or sister? Or what if you were the girl? Why is the girl's chastity and virtue in question, and why are the wolves who bit her off her dreams and a normal happy life still prowling as if nothing happened? It’s a funny world we live in. Will you shut up when the next “Suryanelli girl” is your beloved?