A thin line between concern and interference

When one human being decides to inflict torture on another, the proceedings read like a sordid medieval saga of tyranny and bestiality, our signposts of modernity notwithstanding. One recalls reading about the gruesome case in which women were raped, murdered, dismembered and probably eaten before their remains were flung into the sewer. Or the more recent ‘shelter’ home case where children suffered untold and unimaginable torture — sexual, physical and mental.

As it turns out, many such incidents occur on a daily basis for years in residential localities. One presumes that there would be neighbours living in close proximity — neighbours who use common lanes and passages or staircases and elevators. There would be the domestic help who work in multiple houses in an apartment complex and generally have a penchant for curiosity over the lifestyles of home-owners. Escaping the gossipy scrutiny of the neighbourhood is usually a challenge.

One wonders then how the intelligence network of maidservants, the informal union of drivers, the mommies’ carpool or the laughter club that are typical of most neighbourhoods did not express curiosity at the state of two middle-aged sisters who never stepped out, ate only stale vegetables or biscuits and progressively starved till one of them was at death’s door and the other, being unstable herself, did not know how to handle the situation.

What are the neighbours so busy doing that they cannot hear, see or suspect strange goings-on and report them to the police well in time for lives to be saved or diseases to be treated? If there was hesitation in approaching the police, perhaps they could have approached the media or even sent out an anonymous communication (which people routinely do for all manner of things in our country)?

Do we blame our ‘culture’ or do we just conclude that we are extremely selfish? As long as something does not directly affect us, perhaps we see no reason to intervene or participate. Interestingly, newspaper reports often describe how neighbours complained of a foul smell emanating from a particular house — this is the point at which the police gets called, because the stench has become unbearable.

If the neighbour’s daughter-in-law is being harassed for dowry and she cannot find even one sympathetic ear in the neighbourhood, somewhere we are all guilty. Given our attitude, it would be rare that a case of domestic violence or child sexual abuse is brought to justice by the efforts of people living in the vicinity.

The rude t-shirt slogan, ‘What goes of my father’ is a rough translation of a well-known colloquialism for indifference. To which we can add the more contemporary adage, ‘It’s not my baby’ and come up with a range of responses typical of us as a society. The neighbourhood is among the important concentric circles by which the community enfolds the individual. There is a thin line between concern and interference; as neighbours we need to walk that line with responsibility and compassion.