I was driving my daughter to school the other day. She’s 17 and getting ready to graduate high school. She is aware of sexual assaults on college campuses – hell, just watch The Hunting Ground to see how bad it can get. As much as she knows about the topic, as much as we’ve talked about violence against women elsewhere in the world, she was unprepared for the story of Jyoti Singh, a twenty-three year old medical student in Delhi in 2012. When I told her what happened to Singh, my daughter burst into tears as anyone would upon hearing the story. She was angry at me for ruining her day. But I told her – and I don’t even know if I’m right about this – that hearing her story is the least we can do. It’s the least we can do so that she did not die for nothing. The brutal attack against her is made softer in news stories of the incident. They say she was “disemboweled” instead of: “the asshole reached up inside her and pulled out her intestines so that no doctor could even figure out what was gone or what to put back together.” With nothing to be done, Singh died in the hospital a few days after her attack. At least she was able to say goodbye to her parents.
What happened to Singh is laid out in painful, agonizing detail in Leslee Udwin’s unmissable India’s Daughter. Her story is told by her mother, whose inner pain is so palpable as to render her nearly speechless. Her angry and grieving father. Analyzed by experts and educators who hope things change soon for women in places where rape is part of their day-to-day reality. And of course, we get to hear the defense attorneys say winning things like “it’s a woman’s fault she is raped more than a man’s.” Because in Dehli, young women are expected to be escorted by their fathers or husbands or brothers. To be out at night with a male friend is unheard of.
The part that stings the most is that the movie she went to see was Ang Lee’s beautifully inspiring Life of Pi. Singh wanted to be a medical student. She was born to parents who valued her as much as they would have valued a son. They celebrated her birth with such excitement that their friends said “you are celebrating as if you’d had a boy.” In a culture where women are worth about half what men are, where poverty is crippling, this was one young woman who had a good plan and a way out. Until she met up with her ultimate fate.
After leaving of Life of Pi, Singh and her friend caught a bus. It was, unfortunately, a private bus driven by a guy who would be one of the witnesses to the crime. He drove the bus, at his brother’s request, while a gang of men brutally raped Singh. In this case, though, the rape would have been one thing. It is always talked about as a “gang rape.” And honestly, that’s the least of it. Had they discarded her after that she would have lived. But no, that wasn’t good enough for a young woman who talked back to them when they started pestering her and her friend. It wasn’t enough to rape. They had to kill in the most violent way imaginable. Serial killers aren’t this brutal. She had bruises and bite marks, not to mention her entire insides had been ripped out of her body.
The men who have been arrested are awaiting the death penalty. In this instance, it seems appropriate, though I am no believer in it as a form of justice. Had it been my daughter they would be dead anyway so the state might as well kill them. They don’t deserve to be alive. One of them already killed himself and another, a juvenile, is serving three years.
The only good thing to come out of this, and the reason to see the documentary, is to bear witness to massive uprising in Delhi to change the way women are treated. It is a movement that needs everyone’s support. It needs to the whole world’s eyes on it. The more people who know about Singh and how she was killed helps to perhaps save the next victim. This part of this unforgettable documentary is the reason for making it in the first place. To honor the brave who put themselves in harm’s way to fight for Singh.
The film was banned by Indian government for various reasons, as laid out in this New Yorker article. It is now up for Oscar consideration and is one of the many great docs directed by a woman this year. Don’t miss a chance to see it and tell everyone you know about it. Tell everyone about Jyoti Singh so they remember her name. They will hate you for telling them this story because they won’t ever forget it. And that is precisely the point.