MENTION the 1984 anti-Sikh riots to these women and an air of silence envelopes them. They live in isolated worlds of poverty and tragedy, but are inextricably joined by one event - their husbands were massacred in that burst of violence 20 years ago.
It's a silence that speaks of their tragic tales. They've lived many nightmares since they saw their husbands murdered before them. Eye-witnesses for a moment, victims forever. What has followed is an aching wait for justice and a life of unending struggles.
"It's been twenty years since the 1984 riots. A lot has been written, but little has been done. Twenty years down the massacre I'm still struggling to meet both ends without my husband, looking after my three children and their families."
"Politicians would come every once a year, during elections and remind us of the traumatic phase we went through. They make promises, collect their votes and vanish. A new face enters this colony, every year only to be replaced by another face the next year," says Kuldeep Kaur, one of the many widows living in Tilak Vihar.
Tilak Vihar, known as the 'Widow's Colony', is one of the localities where women took asylum after losing their husbands to the '84 bloodbath. They have been residing here ever since.
The colony comprises several building blocks, identical with three floors each. There are about 16 to 20 families residing in each block.
The blocks are interconnected with narrow lanes and by-lanes, uncovered drains on both sides. One continuously waddles while walking in the by-lanes of Tilak Vihar, with a powerful stench one's permanent companion.
These blocks overlook the Tilak Vihar Police Station and Nishkam, an NGO, which was established in 1984 to help the victims of the riots.
Kuldeep works in an MCD school as a peon and lives in an accommodation provided by the government in 1984, with her two sons, their wives and children and her daughter.
Two small rooms and a small kitchen. Fractured floors, dilapidated walls and ceilings, broken electricity switchboards. That is the house they live in.
Kuldeep's older son drives an autorickshaw while the other is jobless. Her daughter runs a small beauty parlour at home.
It's a silence that speaks of their tragic tales. They've lived many nightmares since they saw their husbands murdered before them. Eye-witnesses for a moment, victims forever. What has followed is an aching wait for justice and a life of unending struggles.
"It's been twenty years since the 1984 riots. A lot has been written, but little has been done. Twenty years down the massacre I'm still struggling to meet both ends without my husband, looking after my three children and their families."
[FONT=Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif][FONT=Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif]The government apathy towards the widows and their families form only a fraction of their miseries.[/FONT][/FONT]
Tilak Vihar, known as the 'Widow's Colony', is one of the localities where women took asylum after losing their husbands to the '84 bloodbath. They have been residing here ever since.
The colony comprises several building blocks, identical with three floors each. There are about 16 to 20 families residing in each block.
The blocks are interconnected with narrow lanes and by-lanes, uncovered drains on both sides. One continuously waddles while walking in the by-lanes of Tilak Vihar, with a powerful stench one's permanent companion.
These blocks overlook the Tilak Vihar Police Station and Nishkam, an NGO, which was established in 1984 to help the victims of the riots.
Kuldeep works in an MCD school as a peon and lives in an accommodation provided by the government in 1984, with her two sons, their wives and children and her daughter.
Two small rooms and a small kitchen. Fractured floors, dilapidated walls and ceilings, broken electricity switchboards. That is the house they live in.
Kuldeep's older son drives an autorickshaw while the other is jobless. Her daughter runs a small beauty parlour at home.
