Blogger Badge

Thursday, October 18, 2018

THE FLOATING DIARY (Short Story Journal – 30): Ravana Dahan #MeeToo

Today on the auspicious day of Vijayadashami, I sit and write in my journal about an incident that shook me to the core! It is midnight now, but I am writing down about something that happened a few hours back. I feel a strange energy within me now. It is a power to whatever is right. I wonder, how this Dussera has become special with a simple vow that I pledged.

Ajay, my college buddy, had invited me over for dinner tonight. I was elated to receive the invitation as I had not met him since a long time, despite the proximity of our respective houses. I dressed up in a nice traditional attire, bought some sweets and reached Ajay’s house sharp at 7 PM.

Ajay, who now works at a bank, had always been of philosophical and radical bent of mind. In college, I used to think that he would perhaps become an author or a political leader. He was always the first person to stand up against any wrongdoing and protest. Ajay’s unique bent of mind attracted me towards his personality and we became good friends. However, with passage of time, the revolutionary young man, gradually made truce with harsh reality. Today, after about a decade, Ajay lives a peaceful with his wife Shweta and their little three-year-old daughter, Titli.

As we sat in the living-room and chatted, flashes of past memories whizzed past my eyes. I said, “Ajay, it has been such a long time since we chatted like this. I remember our college days, I still cannot forget the strong and powerful revolutionary of our class… Ajay!”

“Pravin”, answered Ajay with a smile, “Everything has a passing phase. That phase is well past now. We have to live in the present world. I am happy for who I was, and I am happy for who I am today.”

Little Titli played with her toys. The innocent child, with neatly made curly long hair and mischievous eyes giggled on her own as she fiddled with her dolls. She cuddled up against the sofa on which Ajay sat and hummed a nursery rhyme and was busy in her own world.

Ajay looked at her and turned his eyes towards me and said, “Now, she is my world. She, my princess, my TITLI.”

The little girl sat, as if, under the shadow of her father. It was like a canopy of protection under whose shade she felt safe and secure. I noticed that there were tears in Ajay’s eyes. I looked at him for some more time and asked, “What is it Ajay? Is anything bothering you?”

Ajay replied, “Look at her. She is such an innocent child. She looks so divine in that little red dress and that polka dotted shorts. Today, everybody admires her and cuddles her like a doll. However, last night I had a dream. Yet, it was not just a dream… it was a reality check!”

“What sort of a dream?” I asked Ajay.

He replied, “A dream that was an eye opener… Pravin, soon my little Titli will grow up into a young lady. Soon, the glances in the eyes of her admirers would change! Soon, the innocent child would be looked upon by lustful eyes! I just cannot tolerate it! The world is becoming so perilous. How will I protect my child! Pravin, today Ravana is not a myth… he is present in our personalities that give rise to #MeToo! Be it personal, be it political, be it the changing nature of man or woman, unless we all kill that demon, no Dussera would be complete! What sort of a world are we creating for the future generations? A place where #MeToo rules or a place where love and harmony prevails…”

I looked at Ajay while he added, “In my dream, Titli questioned me… Papa will the MeToo Ravana gulp me down? Papa, save me from this demon! I woke up from my sleep with a jerk! It is not just a dream… it is not just a voice! Pravin, it is the voice of every child, male or female, who would make up our society tomorrow. Unless, we kill the MeToo Ravana in us… the world can never be safe for our children. I wish, this year, the Lord gives us strength and power to end the era of imperfection so that we can all take a step forward and do whatever is right!”

“Yes Ajay. But, how can you or I bring in such a revolution?” I asked anxiously.

“Perhaps, the first step is standing up against anything that is wrong! If we, insignificant individuals, stand up against whatever is wrong, then a cyclone would soon brew up and wipe away the demon!” answered Ajay.

“Pravin, I don’t know how it will happen. I only know that it must happen!”, continued Ajay and picked up little Titli on his lap, “But, this is something that I vow to do for my child and for every child who would become an adult tomorrow. Unless the view of every man and every woman changes, we can never bring this change.”

He finished with, “This year, Vijayadashami must be all about Ravana Dahan #MeToo and everything that is wrong for a healthy society! I hope, we groom our children to respect each other, to protect the modesty of women, to treat everybody with honor and dignity. The ten-headed #MeToo demon must not extend its reach further. We, mortals of this world have the duty to end this fiend!”


I came back home with a strange feeling in my heart. Tonight, whatever I write here in my journal, cannot be explained in words perhaps. I am not a father, yet, but I still feel a strange attachment to little Titli. I feel the strong message in the words of Ajay and I pledge to do my bit to support the cause he has picked up. It is a pledge, it is a vow, it is promise that I have consented with Ajay, to make the world a better place. Even though I don’t know how, but the honest intension within our hearts tell me that we would soon find a way.

2 comments:

Amazon Books

The Breakfast - A Thriller Short Story (Inspector Kanailal's cases)

  Sub Inspector Rajiv Mukherjee sat on a wooden chair placed at a corner of the large spacious room on the third floor of Lal Bazar headquar...