On May 5, Asha Devi and her husband Badri Nath Pandey addressed a posse of media persons after the Supreme Court upheld the death sentence of four of the six men who had raped and brutalised their daughter, who subsequently died.
Asha Devi took the centre-stage, comfortable in the limelight, patiently answering queries and expressing her faith in the judiciary. She also spoke about how the fight for women's safety went beyond getting justice for her daughter. Nirbhaya would have been proud of her mother today.
It has taken four-and-a-half years and a terrifying personal grief for Asha Devi to become the woman she is today. Till the night of December 16, 2012, she was a quiet housewife who had barely seen much of the world beyond her home in Delhi's Uttam Nagar and her village in eastern Uttar Pradesh. Unlettered and unambitious, her life revolved around her family of three children and her husband, her efforts being to provide them as much as she could within their limited economic means.
There was ambition, no doubt, but that was for her children. She wanted them to succeed. Nirbhaya was the one in the family driven by personal ambition. Asha Devi once told me that her daughter aspired to be a doctor, but because of their limited finances, settled to study physiotherapy instead. “She wanted to get a big job, move us into a better home. She believed education was the key to success. She'd scold her brothers if they were careless with their studies,'' Asha Devi once told me.
The news of her daughter's rape came late that night. She'd been waiting for her daughter to return after watching Life of Pi with a friend. Asha Devi can never forget the image of her daughter saying bye, as she left home, bubbling with life. A few hours later, they got a call saying she was in hospital.
No one had been prepared for what happened—neither the doctors, nor the family. She'd been brutalised so badly that her intestines had been torn. But the girl was a fighter, she survived for days, writing in pain. Asha Devi remembers how her daughter would ask for water, and she had to deny it. Sometimes, the doctors allowed her to lick a lollipop.
Outside, the country had erupted in outrage. The Pandeys were not prepared for this either. The government stepped in, shifting the patient and family to Singapore, knowing fully well there was no hope for the girl, but hoping that removing her from the country would help them manage the law and order situation.
When Nirbhaya died, the family was encouraged to hold the funeral and last rites in their village, far away from Delhi.
Dazed and grieving, the Pandeys were unprepared for the trial ahead. Nirbhaya's trial was fast tracked, the best forensic technology was put to use to produce a foolproof case against the accused. The government hired the best legal team to fight the case. Yet, courtroom proceedings are draining. As the defence lawyers resorted to attention grabbing tactics, the Pandeys realised they'd have to deal with stupid accusations and character assassinations. They learnt that one accused would get away scot-free as he was a juvenile.
One day, she told me, she'd lost the will to live or fight. But she survived. In fact, she moved out of the background. She'd speak to well wishers and correspondents, sharing her thoughts and grief. Her son once displayed aggression outside court, her husband was not as articulate. Asha Devi became the public face of the family, she developed a personality she'd never aspired for.
When the trial court sentenced the accused to death, Asha Devi had said her daughter's soul would get some peace that day. But she'd get her closure only after the sentence was carried out.
That closure will still take time. The defence will file a special leave petition, their lawyer A.P. Singh as already announced. Then there will be an appeal for Presidential clemency.
Now that there is a ruling that an inordinate delay in carrying out the death sentence is ground for the sentence to be revoked, it is likely that once every recourse is exhausted, the four will be hanged quickly. Asha Devi knows that it will still be a partial closure. The juvenile has escaped the noose. But she is awaiting that closure. Der hai, andher nahi (there may be delay, there wont be despair), she believes. She's not bloodthirsty. She only wants justice, she once told me.
