Indian society seems to be perpetually slipping through the hands of the mighty, benevolent state. In spite of repeated reminders from the government about the illegality of all forms of self-killing, be it suicide or a mercifully-assisted death, individuals keep taking their own lives. Vimla Devi is one such recalcitrant citizen, who fasted to death recently, in pursuance of the Jain tradition of santhara. The practice allows the faithful to choose death once all the purposes of life seem to have been served and the body can no longer be put to any further use. A cancer patient whose condition had been deteriorating for the past three years, Vimla Devi exercised a choice granted by her religion to end a life which had become meaningless to her. In doing so, she has become both a hero and a villain. In tradition-steeped Rajasthan, she now attracts as much adulation as Roop Kanwar. However, in the law courts — where her fasting has invited a public interest litigation against the practice — she is now a figure over whom longstanding debates are being conducted to determine the fine line between state control and individual freedom, and over the more specific issue of the lawfulness of euthanasia in India.

The PIL against Vimla Devi’s death wish has raised the hackles of the Jain community. The Jains have promised to move the Supreme Court to defeat what is seen as a condemnable attempt to curtail the religious freedom of their community. The same logic, however, had originally inspired the petitioner to claim that the practice of santhara, if defended on grounds of religion, would turn sati into an equally sanctified ritual. But not many were thinking on similar lines. Even when Vimla Devi was alive, the police had refrained from breaking her fast on the plea that it was a “religious matter”. It is a similar mindset that takes possession when the police remain mere onlookers in the many cases of sati that regularly take place in the state, or during riots when one religious community settles its scores against another.

Perhaps the limits of state authority need to be looked at more realistically — with respect to the people who exercise it as well as those upon whom this authority is brought to bear. The Indian state’s stand on the right to life still remains restricted within an archaic framework that necessarily criminalizes all forms of self-killing. The right to life is seen in absolute terms without any concessions made for cases in which it may be more humane to end it. There are undoubtedly strong cultural and social reasons behind such a position. In a country where an uncaring, exploitative family, an indifferent healthcare system, poverty and illiteracy complicate matters infinitely, it will always be tricky to legislate unreservedly in favour of the right to die. But allowing the hapless a chance to die with dignity is an option that deserves some consideration.