Cut it

There is a macabre sense of satisfaction in holding a mirror up to a society that has let itself go. When closely guarded orthodoxies of piety and humanity are shattered, the underreported squirming and squealing become noticeable. Some who try to shine light on such realities can become addicted to the dopamine hit. Others may use these moments for moral grandstanding. But do you have the heart for the moment of reckoning? While judging others, do you spare a moment to reflect on how ugly your society has become?

Celebrity deaths rightfully claim column inches and public attention across the world. Celebrity deaths under suspicious circumstances, when bodies are found abandoned and in an advanced state of decomposition, bring the circus to town. Actress Humaira Asghar's tragic death, and the circumstances in which she was found (or lost), have unlocked the putrid odours of a society in an advanced state of decay.

Her story might have ended nine months ago, but society's is only beginning. Notice who does what now. The rights activists will decry the mistreatment of women in an overwhelmingly patriarchal society. The entertainment industry will express horror and revulsion. The moral police will try to extract lessons from a decaying corpse. The authorities will initiate an inquiry, which will likely go nowhere. And the media will squeeze her mortal remains for every last drop of ratings and sensational voyeurism.

All reactions are predictable, and everyone is adjusted well enough to function within the acceptable parameters of their established roles. Right? It is in the nature of a vulture to feast on the entrails of a corpse. How can you fault it for that?

Consider this. For nine months, she lay decaying in that forsaken house. All the above-mentioned sensibilities and good guys were playing dead next to her. I understand it is hard to reach someone who has isolated themselves in a house. How can you force someone to open their door without a warrant? But in this high-tech world, there is no shortage of ways to check on someone's wellbeing.

If doorbells and landlines do not get a response, emails, texts and WhatsApp messages are there to help. Smartphones run on batteries. In cases of death in isolation, those batteries eventually die, and callers are informed that the person they are trying to reach is not available. That alone should be a sufficient warning sign.

But wait, there is WhatsApp too. When a message is delivered to a device, you get two ticks. You get one when the device is off. But this only matters when someone is actively trying to reach you. There is no sign that, apart from those attempting eviction, anyone else came looking for her - not women's rights groups, not professional associations, not kith and kin, nor even basic human decency.

Now remind me, what high moral horse were you riding?

Please do not mistake this rant for misdirection. I am fully aware of the concerns regarding women's rights in this country. I understand the stigmas attached to working women, women in the entertainment industry, free-spirited women, women who seek autonomy over their bodies, and even those who wish to live life on their own wild terms. All of this reflects a systemic humanitarian failure and our collective inability to escape a deeply rotten, misogynistic mindset. I would be out of my mind to trivialise that pain.

But I want to draw your attention to an even deeper societal and attitudinal failure.

Recently, we witnessed another celebrity death where the deceased's body was found days after her demise. Veteran actress Ayesha Khan, 77, was discovered in her apartment after neighbours noticed a foul odour. Same story. Alone, abandoned, body in decay. Yet this story did not receive the same favour from the gods of algorithm who now dictate the triage of our performative piety, outrage and humanism. Why? A forgotten 77-year-old star, visibly struggling. Granted, nine months is a long time, and that story had a more prolonged neglect. But social media algorithms and television ratings now determine how compassionate we are going to be, and that too only after the fact.

We are no strangers to impunity. From time to time, high-profile cases of a similar nature surface. Remember the tragic deaths of former foreign secretary Niaz Nayak and artist Ismail Gulgee? The culprits in the latter case were caught and punished only because the police did what they usually do - blame the victim - and by doing so, they raised the stakes for themselves. Mr Nayak's case remains unresolved to this day.

The main point is this: society actively abandons those it sees as struggling. Stigmas such as alleged moral failings, disease, addiction and other flaws are all woven into the grand tapestry of justification for this abandonment. But even so, if you are financially comfortable, there is a serious chance that your social boycott will not be definitive. How many weddings have you attended where the father of the groom or bride was known for corruption, perhaps even a convict, yet you were there because they were rich and powerful? You forgive people for being corrupt or evil. You do not, when they are poor and visibly struggling.

I have seen this tableau play out repeatedly around me. I can say with confidence that abandoning someone in their hour of need is not merely neglect or impunity. It is a form of structural violence. It is not just a "not my problem" reflex. This is what you are saying to the person you abandon: You are invisible. You are alone. Your struggle is your fault. Hope is a lie. Indifference is acceptable. Solidarity is optional. Suffering is private. Impunity is guaranteed. You make me uncomfortable, and my comfort is more important than your life. I do not like you. I do not like your face. You grovel too much. Or you do not grovel enough. You were too arrogant when you were not in crisis, and now look at you. And yes, by the way, I am helpless too.

Have you ever wondered why people abandon you when the smallest gesture on their part could save you? I have seen enough cases, and been in a few, to understand what drives such impunity. You would be surprised how petty we humans can be.

So, dear reader, the truth is this: we do not value human life for its own sake, but for what it brings to the table. The rest is just grandstanding.

So cut it.