There are very few times when I wish I had either a big brawny boyfriend or brother or friend, who would bring his other big brawny friends and beat the shit out of someone for me. And then I think, I’m not one of those women, and I should be feminist enough to deliver justice on my own. I don’t think I want to have to touch him, so his death has to come from at a distance. A cask of wildfire would be nice. Maybe a gun. Ideally I’d like to cut the hands of the asshole. Even chopping off his penis would give me immense satisfaction. I don’t want to starve dogs, and I don’t think the asshole is one to keep hounds, so Sansa’s revenge is not for me. Hanging may be interesting too, but it’s not as appealing as wildfire. Cause let’s face it, I’m not going to go to Delhi police to report what happened to me today. Worse has happened to women in Delhi, true. I am lucky to have ‘escaped’. But that is no consolation. I want that man to stop existing. He may take advantage of another person and make her go through what I went through. And that is an intolerable idea.
Revenge is sweet and violence against those who violate us is satisfying. And I don’t think I would feel an ounce of guilt if I were to kill that asshole. And there are still some people in the world who wonder why Game of Thrones is so popular. Lucky they are, for they have never been in a situation where the only relief from agony is the bloody murder of their assaulter.