First person reporting on rape
Analyzing the Times of India story of
the rape of a young girl on a suburban
train, witnessed by its reporter.
First person reporting on rape
This report attempts to analyze
the controversial press coverage of the rape
of a young woman in a Mumbai suburban train on August 14, 2002, with a view to
deepen the learning experience of journalists.
It summarises the views of Mumbai-based journalists associated with the Network
of Women in the Media, Mumbai (NWMM), and also includes contributions from some
journalists elsewhere - both male and female - expressed through email and
personal discussions. We hope this case study stimulates further debate on the
coverage of this incident and also brings out the wider implications for
journalists and media organisations when we are called upon to write on
sensitive social issues.
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The original story.
The Times of India: 15th August, 2002
`Paralysed with fear, we couldn¿t stop him¿
By Ambarish Mishra
Times News Network
Mumbai: We were worse than the Mahatma¿s three monkeys. We, the
five passengers on the last Borivli-bound train on Tuesday night
witnessed a youth sexually assaulting
a minor, mentally-challenged girl in the second-class
compartment. But paralysed with fear, we could neither effectively
confront the man or stop him. Seated by the window, I was engrossed
in a book. When the train chugged out of Malad station, I
thought to take in some fresh air. As I stood in the gangway, I saw
Salim Samsher Khan sexually assaulting the girl, all of 12 or 13. He had forced
himself upon her on the long seat overlooking the gangway. He
was struggling
to pull down her skirt. The girl was screaming. "Yeh kyaa kar rahe
ho. Stop it,¿¿ I told Salim. An angry Salim reminded me of the
Sanskrit proverb that a person mad with sexual desire has neither fear nor
shame. "Go away. Why are you here? I shall throw you out of
the running train,¿¿ he snapped. He was drunk. His blood-shot eyes
barely concealed a streak of madness.
The girl struggled to shake free. The girl¿s screams
had caught the attention of the other
passengers. They craned their necks to gather every
detail of what they thought was one of the
routine `tamashas¿ on the suburban train - a quarrel, a
practical joke, or some such. What
we saw left us numb. Salim had pulled the girl to the floor and was
raping her. Burdened with our middle-class sensibilities, we remained
silent. As the train slowed down at Borivli
station, Salim smoothly alighted, but only after telling the girl
to keep her mouth shut. She staggered to the nearest seat. I saw
Salim striking up a conversation with someone, as if
nothing had happened. I and a fellow-passenger, Vasant
Kulai, then handed him over to the railway
police.Railway police inspector Jaysingh Chavan said no case
could be registered until the girl was "produced¿¿. Then began a
long trek to the car-shed between Kandivli and Borivli where the rakes halt for
the night. With two constables in tow, Mr Kulai and I scanned every compartment
of the six rakes, but the girl wasn¿t anywhere in sight. Futility
seemed to stare us in the face, but Mr Kulai and the
police party finally spotted the girl on
Borivli platform. Meanwhile, another passenger,
Ravi Ingole, came forward to confirm the case at the
police station. Senior railway