The day the verdict was due, my wife asked me, “What do you think will happen?”
I said, “Suni will get convicted. Don’t have hope for much else.”
That’s not me being a kaniyan; I guess most of us knew, deep down, that this would be the verdict. That said, when the verdict was finally announced, I was still a little surprised and numb. I had hoped, against hope, to be proven wrong.
Now, before we proceed, let me acknowledge my bias.
I have read enough reports, testimonies, and journalistic investigations to form a personal belief that the crime was not the isolated decision of a lone man inside a car that night. It is difficult for me to accept that someone with such limited power and access acted entirely of his own volition, with no influence from people with far more to lose or gain.
You don’t have to agree with me, but if you still have doubts, I encourage you to read TheNewsMinutes’ article: Inside the twisted mind of a hired rapist.
A court has delivered its decision. I respect the legal process. But legality and trust are not always the same currency.
Courts determine guilt. Society determines belief. And individuals determine the values they choose to endorse.
For me, this verdict feels like a profound injustice to the survivor; not because I claim to know more than the system does, but because I refuse to pretend that what I have learned and lived through emotionally holds no weight.
We are often told to “move on”, “separate art from the artist”, or “let the system handle it”.
But what if the system leaves gaps? What if your conscience refuses to fall neatly in line?
This is where cancel culture, a term often mocked, exaggerated and misunderstood, becomes relevant. Strip away the noise, and cancel culture is simply this:
- The right to withdraw support.
- The right to refuse amplification.
- The right to say, “Not with my money, not with my time, and not in my name.”
Hence, I plan on not watching another one of his movies or anything that he is associated with. This isn’t my attempt to destroy him, just me simply refusing to contribute to his rebuild.
Will my boycott change everything? Maybe not. I’m sure there are plenty of people who will stand by him.
But if I believe a survivor, and if I believe this case reflects a deeper rot in how power treats women, then continuing to support the people and systems that benefit from that rot feels like complicity.
So no, I may not topple anything. But I refuse to be one more brick someone builds their comeback on. This is how I keep my conscience clear. And if you feel even a fraction of this, maybe it’s how you keep yours, too.
