The Buck Stops Where? Beyond Seminars, Candle Marches, and Media Columns: Ensuring Women’s Safety and Delivering Justice is not exclusively a women’s issue. It is a societal issue or collapse of morality.
Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazili
My children often ask me the meaning of old Kashmiri proverbs, like “Dāmus chhui Namaskār” () is commonly understood as:”Everyone salutes the rising sun.”.Meaning: People are naturally drawn to success, power, wealth, and influence. When someone is prospering, they receive respect and attention; when fortunes decline, many disappear. Onesuch proverb that has stayed with me for years is “Tott Samavar”—a samovar that warms quickly but loses its heat just as fast.Today, that proverb seems an apt description of our collective response to horrific crimes against women and children.A tragedy occurs. Society erupts in grief. Social media floods with outrage. Candle marches are organized. Television debates follow. Numerous columns are written. Seminars are held. Powerful speeches are delivered. Thunderous applause fills the halls.Then, within days, the heat fades.The samovar cools.And life moves on—until the next tragedy.
The recent horrific crime against a young girl in Budgam once again shook Kashmir’s conscience. The brutality of the act horrified parents, disturbed communities, and generated widespread condemnation. Yet beyond the understandable grief lies a difficult question:Why do such incidents continue to recur despite repeated outrage, repeated seminars, repeated recommendations, and repeated promises of reform? As the poet lamented:”Main un sheeshagharon(calling themselves as sensitive, conscious,civil, concerned souls of our land) se poochhta hoon, Kya lafzoon ki kami thi is shahar mein?” The actual word used here in the original couplet is replaced with “lafzoon- condemnation so as not to be misinterpreted . I ask those who often position themselves as the conscience of society—civil society groups, concerned citizens, social welfare activists, women’s rights advocates, and those frequently seen in the front rows of seminars, conferences, ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and photo opportunities:Was there really a shortage of words/vocabulary for condemnation of heinous crime in this city?We have witnessed strong and unequivocal condemnation from leaders across the spectrum, including the Lieutenant Governor, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah, Mufti azam ,Amar singh club members and Mirwaiz sahib. Yet the silence or hesitation of many self-proclaimed civil champions is difficult to understand.Why this reluctance to call out evil when it stares us in the face? Why the hesitation to unequivocally condemn heinous crimes such as rape and murder? Saying “no” to wrongdoing should not depend on convenience, ideology, identity, or the circumstances of the victim and perpetrator.Condemnation of such acts is not a political position; it is a moral obligation. When society’s most vocal advocates fall silent in the face of brutality, the silence itself becomes disturbing. If we cannot speak clearly against violence, cruelty, and injustice, then what exactly is the purpose of our activism, advocacy, and public engagement?A society is judged not only by how loudly it celebrates virtue, but also by how firmly it condemns vice.
The question before us is not whether I am writing this piece that shifts the discussion beyond condemnation, seminars, candle marches, and symbolic activism toward sustained responsibility and accountability.are. Clearly we do.The real question is whether our concern lasts long enough to make a difference.Every time a Nirbhaya, or an Acid victim , a Romana or another innocent daughter Aamina(names changed) becomes a victim of violence, society follows a familiar script. There are protests, resolutions, emotional speeches, and demands for accountability. For forty-eight or seventy-two hours, public conscience appears fully awakened.Then attention shifts elsewhere. The victim’s family is left alone.The follow-up disappears.The monitoring ends.The promises evaporate.That is the tragedy of the “Tott Samavar” response.
Women’s safety cannot be secured through seminars alone. Nor through candle marches, press statements, social media posts, fiery speeches of seminars or occasional newspaper columns. These may create awareness, but awareness without sustained action becomes little more than public therapy.The challenge is deeper.It is social.It is moral.It is educational.It is institutional.And it begins much closer to home than many of us are willing to admit. Whenever such crimes occur, society instinctively looks toward the police, courts, administration, or government. Certainly, the state has an obligation to investigate promptly, prosecute effectively, and ensure speedy justice. In the recent case, law-enforcement agencies acted swiftly and deserve wholehearted appreciation for sending a strong message especially from honourable LG sahib to Ammlala on road that such crimes will not be tolerated.But law alone cannot manufacture character.Courts can punish offenders. They cannot create good human beings. The real question therefore becomes: Where does society fail? The answer lies in the spaces where character is formed long before criminality appears.It begins at home.
Parents are a child’s first teachers. Respect for women, empathy, self-restraint, civility, accountability, and moral responsibility are not learned in police stations or courtrooms. They are learned around dining tables, in family conversations, and through parental examples. Schools come next.Educational institutions cannot restrict themselves to producing examination toppers and degree holders. They must also nurture ethical citizens. Academic excellence without moral grounding creates intelligent individuals who may lack empathy, responsibility, and respect for human dignity.
Communities too bear responsibility.Every neighbourhood shapes behaviour through what it tolerates, what it discourages, and what it celebrates. When vulgarity is normalized, misogyny excused, aggression admired, and misconduct ignored, society gradually weakens its own moral foundations.The difference between an ordinary citizen and a concerned citizen emerges precisely here.An ordinary citizen may ask:”Why should I get involved?”A concerned citizen asks:”If I remain silent, who will speak?”A truly concerned citizen is not defined by membership of any organization, attendance at meetings, or frequency of public statements.The real test is simpler.Do we speak when the vulnerable are harmed?Do we condemn injustice regardless of who commits it?Do we maintain the same moral standards in every situation?Do we place human dignity above ideology, affiliation, and convenience?These questions apply to all of us.
Civil society groups, religious leaders, educators, professionals, social activists, media organizations, concerned and ordinary citizens alike.A society’s priorities become visible not through what it discusses, but through what it chooses to ignore as with every group or individual priority lies somewhere else .There is nothing wrong with discussing roads, bridges, traffic management, environmental concerns, language policy, governance, or public infrastructure. These issues matter.But surely there must be a hierarchy of concern.When a child is violated.When a woman is brutalized.When innocence is destroyed.The first response must be moral clarity.Silence in such moments raises uncomfortable questions.Not because every individual must become an activist, but because every human being owes society a basic obligation: to recognize evil and refuse to normalize it.Yet condemnation alone,my columns ,fiery specches ,seminars with thundering applause is not enough.We must move beyond symbolic activism.Imagine if every seminar on women’s safety adopted ten vulnerable families for long-term support.Imagine if every civil society organization conducted sustained home visits, community engagement programmes, and parental awareness campaigns.Imagine if neighbourhood committees regularly discussed child protection and safe-community practices.Imagine if schools held structured programmes for boys on respect, consent, dignity, and responsible conduct.Imagine if community leaders followed cases until justice was delivered instead of moving on after the headlines disappeared.That would be concern translated into action.That would be advocacy with purpose.That would be conscience in practice.
Women’s safety is not exclusively a women’s issue.It is a societal issue.The conversation must therefore include men and boys.
Perhaps it is time to focus less on repairing victims and more on preventing perpetrators.We need to raise boys , their upbringings revised who understand that strength is not domination, masculinity is not aggression, and respect for women is not optional.Character-building must become a societal priority.The battle against violence is won not only in courts and police stations but also in homes, schools, mosques, community centres, and neighbourhoods.The responsibility belongs to all of us.The buck stops not merely with governments.Nor solely with police.Nor exclusively with courts.It stops with parents who shape values.With teachers who mould minds.With community leaders who influence behaviour.With citizens who refuse to remain silent.And with every one of us who claims to care about society.A healthy society is built daily by conscientious parents, dedicated educators, responsible institutions, and vigilant citizens who understand that rights and responsibilities travel together.The character of a nation ultimately reflects the character of its people.If we desire safer streets, safer homes, safer schools, and safer communities, we must invest not only in stronger laws but also in stronger values.Otherwise, we will continue repeating the same cycle:A tragedy…..An outcry….A seminar….A candle march … .A newspaper column…..And then silence … .Another Tott Samavar.
Tailpiece (Reflection). Is Anyone Concerned and Reading On Wall .With my fading memory, I am reminded of “Khazar Sochta Hai Wular Kinare”—a solitary figure lost in thought on the shores of Wular, while an old lament echoes through my conscience:“Is dil pe laga ke thes, jaane woh kaun sa desh,
Jahaan tum chale gaye…”(With a wound upon this heart, to what distant land have you gone?)“Ek aah bhari hogi, humne na suni hogi,
Jaate jaate tumne awaaz to di hogi…”Perhaps you sighed one last time and we did not hear it. Perhaps, as you departed, you called out and we failed to listen.
And so the regret lingers. More than grief itself, it is the question that refuses to fade:“Har waqt yahi hai gham, us waqt kahaan the hum?”(What haunts me always is this sorrow: where were we when you needed us most?)Some departures leave behind not silence, but an enduring conversation with our own conscience. The waves of Wular seem to carry that question still.
May Allah grant us the courage to say “No” to evil and “Yes” to what is right. May He protect our daughters, strengthen our conscience, and grant us sincerity, courage, and perseverance in fulfilling our collective responsibility.As the saying goes:”Hum apne hissey ki shama jalāte aaye hain; Insha’Allah āge bhi jalāte rahenge. Allah swt toufeeq dey , hum apna haq adda kareyngey “The measure of our concern is not how loudly we speak after a tragedy.It is what we continue to do after the headlines disappear.i …you can differ on my views on “ Environmental Moral Decline In Society
The Author is a columnist who writes on civilized society, ethical values, healthcare, and social reforms, and regularly raises awareness on issues concerning moral responsibility, civic consciousness, and community welfare.
