Dreams and Reality at a Tug of War

I woke to the sound of rain thudding on the roof. The coffee  freshly brewed and morning rituals completed I set out to the porch that overlooked the junction. I set the coffee on a bench and sat on the swing ready to be amused by the world in general. The sky retained the color of dreary gray shattering the hope of sunlit morning. Men in rain coats and women in umbrellas hopped on the road to save themselves from the puddles formed on the path due to the unabated rain. A man in a black suit muttered curses as the car splashed dirt. The trio of girls waiting in the bus stop a little further from the intersection giggled when a charming young man in a red t-shirt smiled at them. Even as I smiled at the boon of adolescence my memories drifted to a place far away.

Midst the forest of purple flowers and trees with blue leaves, situated was a fortress built of black stones. The black castle gleamed in the morning sun. The tower was so high that it skimmed the clouds, reminding me the locked towers and magic. I was trapped in the charm of the land oblivious to the rider in a black cloak on the back of a white horse. The air grew heavy resonating with the each step the man took. I turned. I looked. His face was sculpted to fault. The eyes were the color the castle. His hair was a black waterfall that glided on his sun kissed shoulders. The lush cave of his mouth above the narrow nose curved into a smile at my utter infancy. My pulses hummed as he neared me, his black cape trailing behind.

Somewhere distantly I heard someone call my name. I felt the push from behind. I got up with a quick jolt just to see my father frowning at my drooling mouth. When the battle between dream and reality continued I yearned for the will to remain in the realm of purple flowers and trees with blue leaves looking at the man donning a black cloak.            

Oh how I wish!

When can Women and children feel safe?

Minor cousins’ gang raped and hanged in Badaun district of Uttar Pradesh, six-year-old raped in Bangalore by a teacher inside the school campus, Dalit girl was gang raped and killed in a district in Tamil Nadu. These were the news that made headlines in the news papers for the past few weeks.

Contrary to the popular belief, skimpy clothes and short skirts alone don’t drive the man to perform. The survey taken up by IBNLive.com provided interesting insights. The main causes that surfaced were the delayed and denial of justice, the absence of fear of law, insecurity and the deep rooted patriarchy whereas the exposed skin and provocation took a back seat.

We live in a society where the women are still seen as objects rather than for what they are, fellow human beings. Often it is forgotten that they do have their own opinions and emotions. I do not disagree with the fact that more and more women are coming out and are assuming a more independent role and standing up for the cause. But that alone isn’t enough.

Staying inside the house for fear of perverts lurking in the roads isn’t the answer either. Wary of each man we encounter and suspecting everyone who comes into contact will not help. But that is where we are heading, aren’t we?

Maya (name changed), a software engineer in the city whose work demands leaving office after sunset said,” Most of us women work late and we are past the age where we depend on the family for pick up and drop regularly. On one such night when I was walking in the busy road on the way home, I was approached by a man with a request for time and finally my number. He might have just been another decent guy who was genuinely interested and had honest intentions but my instincts were to run and reach home as soon as possible.”

Need of the hour is not trusting your instinct and running away, but enough courage to the face it.

The anti-rape amendment law that was passed after Nirbhaya incident in New Delhi pronounces death sentence to the perpetrator if the crime results in death or vegetable state of the victim. The evil shows no sign of subsiding despite the stringent law. The conviction rate remains at a poor 24.2 percent as per the 2012 reports. (Source: Wikipedia)

Rape isn’t a woman’s mistake; it is the result of a man’s insecurity and cowardice. The way she should be looked is with respect and not pity. If she had enough nerve to live through it she is brave enough to live with it the rest of her life.  I have no good words for the poor excuse of a man who abuse children sexually, chemical castration sounds better when I juxtapose.

Laws have always looked good on the paper than put it to any good use. My friend after looking at the cascading crimes commented,” Making them blind will do more good than putting them to behind the bars and sentencing them to death.” This is something we need to think about. At least this will instill the fear of law which is virtually absent.

When I was chatting with Chandini (name changed), an Indian researcher abroad, she very clearly pointed out that education is the key. Parents should be more proactive in teaching their children about sex, rape and love in India which was almost non-existent. This is where the change should begin in her opinion.

There is no illusion that rape has been happening for a long time but it was only now that they have come into light. Thanks to latest technology young people today 'see more and hear more' whether we like it or not.

It is a sad state of affairs that even the 6 years old cannot escape from the harsh realities of life. This is an era where the babies and girls are forced to grow up and worry for their safety where 20 years back the only worry I had was what chocolates to eat and which game to play!

A Quest

I woke up in the morning to sound of spring and murmur of butterflies. It isn't just another day. It is a fresh beginning in a place so foreign, the place I chose to be a part of; the stance that would mark my career as a journalist.

Ending a career and choosing another seemed so easy until the last day, until the time I preferred not to think too much about it. Now that everything that has to be done is done all that is left is to reason it out. Confusion that is ingrained in me had its say. Confidence the alter ego is resting in peace. Courage is the one that always elude me in time of need but it is already sneaking its way in. Divine presence which everyone seeks during emergency has already been taken care off.

I have pondered over it, for the better or for worse I’m going to see it to the end. It was a choice which seemed so easy and viable from outside but definitely did not look so when I actually live through it; the decision which came off as “Chasing a Dream” to the perceptive few might not be so wrong after all; the choice might as well be the chance to make the change I had always wanted.

It is a long road I’m taking with its own twists and turns. This is a quest which I know not the end for that is too far-fetched!

In the all too familiar Road…

Dusk for me best describes the best of the night, the men and the moon. It was dusk, the time between the sunset and moon rise, when I was traveling in the all too familiar road. It was special because it would be the last day I would be taking this road. I was ecstatic because I’m moving on. If I’m nostalgic and tears are yet to dry it was for the good and the bad times, for the miserable and the delightful experiences, the lessons learned and blossomed friendships; but never for regrets.

It was an amazing period. It brought me sophistication, taught me the language of spending, gave me the taste for freedom and spoiled me for everything else. Do I regret any of those, of course not; because it taught something else too, to strive for more. I came here as an amateur and I’m leaving as a professional hungry for more. I’m not going to say thanks because one can never be thankful enough for things that were give to you without demands. I have had my moments, the best of them right here.

There were few bumps on the road frequently traveled, I got hurt and might hurt others in the process. I fell down and I got up. Life hardly goes by without any of these. There had been boredom and there was salvation, sometimes they were interchangeable. I met a lot of people, some stay close to heart and many whose memories I cherish. I’m happy I found many such people here. As I leave this place the day after, which consumed a good few years of my life, as the cliched software professional associated with the ‘Big Tag’, I’m taking with me every second, every minute and every single year I spent here as memoirs, for they are the only ones that count and because they made me who I’m today; when I was riding in the highs and lows swinging between delight and despair, making friends and unmaking them in the process I managed to find my niche.

I’m big on sentiments and have always been a great admirer of goodbyes; because goodbyes for me always whisper of new beginnings and of hope. If the grapevines of goodbyes hold any grain of truth, we will meet again, until then…