From RG Kar to Law College: The Things That Never Change

When tricolor threads itself into the sky and the air hums with the heartbeat of freedom, we remember — independence was never gifted, it was earned, bled for, and dreamt into reality. Yet, as the flag unfurls in the wind, I cannot help but wonder: is freedom only about borders, or does it live in the quiet courage to speak, to create, and to hope? The answer lies not in history alone, but in the voices we raise today.

People think that telling a girl she is “not enough” will break her spirit. Yet history proves the opposite — it forges her into something unforgettable, a name that becomes a warning to the world whenever the word “injustice” is spoken. That’s what they did to her: turned her into a symbol, not of weakness, but of the price of silence. No one knows the weight of guilt a person carries in the dark, yet the world keeps adding stones to it with words never asked for. They never ask, “Are you okay?” Instead, they demand strength as if it’s a birthright.

And so, another girl walks under the weight of unwanted footsteps, willing to pay the cost of her existence. Someone alive enough to unearth what is buried in shadows. Because when it comes to injustice, the right to equality is not a privilege handed down — it’s a choice. A choice people too easily forget. A choice that shakes the minds of those who hide their evil… until one day, it escapes and steals away what was dearest to someone.

That “one day” was August 9th, 2024.
While the world slept under the illusion of safety, a family in Mumbai was woken up by a call that would tear through their lives. The West Bengal police, in a voice stripped of warmth, told them: “We’re sorry to call at this hour, but we need you to come pick up your daughter’s body.” In that instant, sleep became a stranger, and the night stretched into something unending. By dawn, they were on their way to Kolkata — a city they had never feared, yet one that would greet them with the sight of their daughter’s face so badly injured, the shattered glass of her spectacles still lodged in her eyes, and her fellow junior doctors crying, too stunned to understand what had happened. And that was when Abhaya — the victim, the junior doctor — was said to be “at peace.” But the fellow doctors knew better. They had seen her wounds, felt her absence, and the silence in the hospital corridors began to throb with rage. The revolt for justice had already begun.

Word of this injustice to Abhaya spread faster than frost melting on water. People across the nation — and beyond — came together as one. Not as strangers, but as doctors, as friends, as a daughter’s parents, as brothers, as sisters, as GIRLS. We are often told to stay silent in such matters, but not this time. Because if we stayed silent now, another Abhaya would rise, only to meet the same brutal fate. Protests erupted across the city, carrying banners that read “Reclaim the Night” and “We Want Justice!”. This time, equality and justice weren’t just ideals — they became a compulsion, a duty everyone had to follow. The outrage reached the Supreme Court, which took the matter into its own hands.

The first hearing for the case was held on September 17th, naming the accused — Sanjay Roy, a civic police volunteer. After months of trial, in January 2025, Sanjay Roy was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment. Even now, some appeal to the High Court for harsher punishment, but so far, no such request has been granted.

Remember the history lessons about the severe, unforgiving punishments of ancient Greece? Criminals hanged to death, their case files bound in their own skin to be revisited as grim reminders? Maybe India needs to adopt measures just as unflinching — because even after all this, when the question of women’s safety resurfaced, another case emerged. Same weight. Same horror. Different victim.

(Someday in June 2025) Another Abhaya — this time, a young woman training to fight injustice itself. And what happened to her? Silenced. Shaped into yet another cold, unyielding symbol of INJUSTICE. If even those who study law cannot be promised justice, then what worth do our promises hold? What worth do our lives hold?

#ITSTOOLATEINDIA We have fought, we have pleaded, we have marched — but now, the time for patience is over. If they can make it hard for us to rise, then we can make it impossible for them to stand. This is not just a wake-up call — this is the alarm bell, and it will ring until the walls of complacency crack.

Because even in the darkest tunnels, there is light. Even in the deepest seas, there is beauty. And even in the most hopeless cases, there can be victory. But victory does not arrive by chance — it is claimed. So let us claim it, together. Let us demand a safer, stronger, braver India — not tomorrow, not someday, but now.

#WakeupforthemakeupIndia — because change is not a dream we wait for; it is a battle we fight for, born from the deepest desire in our hearts and the fiercest fire in our minds.

#380daysofabhaya

#thefirstvictim