Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Life is at stake, here

( I am reposting the one of my favourite blog, hope you will make it.)

This is an attempt to say a story inspired from a real incident. I do not know whether I am good at saying a story. But this was the picture that came to my mind when I read about the atrocities that still exist in my country.
Time has changed, but the attitude with which the entire fabric of society was built is still the same. Religion, caste...the list is endless. Men cared not for their loved ones, but their religion.

 She lay in the splattered pool of blood... Her slow motioned eyes searching for him.

He was lying on the other end.  His eye balls still, not ready to budge a bit. She stretched her hand until the tip of her fingers met his. The days of apprehensions and helplessness were deep buried in the earth.

The memories gushed in and out...Her eyes could see it.

She was eight and he was ten when they first met on the narrow mound that meandered through the golden fields of their village. He was too tall that she had to lift her face full to see him. His face guaranteed everything. She was unsure, whether he felt the same.In no time, her doubts withered.  The drizzle of his smile was overwhelming as if it was kept hidden for centuries. The days and nights passed. Seasons took its various forms. But their smiles were still the same. It grew and grew with all its charm.

A new world of freedom was born amidst them – College.

 It has been years since they were bonded with smile. She was ecstatic to meet him and the waiting came to an end when he came to her and asked for her name.

“Gudiya” the reply was wrapped in a blush.

“Anurag” he told his name with the same usual smile.

Nothing more...silence spoke for them. It went on for months. But they could read each other's minds. After their initial reluctance, both took the rein of their freedom in their own hands. As days multiplied, the woes of the thought of separation too swelled. They seemed aware of their future.

The insecure future – that was what they would like to call it. Their union put forth before them a  big question mark.

 Honour was the term that was dangerously entwined with bizarre and ludicrous customs and conventions. Unfortunately, they too belonged to this society. Same religion, but different castes. They were scared of it. They could not live under the wrath of the society.

Would they be able to overcome it? Do they have the courage to take the bull by its horns?

 But love has its own answer... It knew no society and boundaries.

She was beautiful in her chilly red wedding saree. Nothing changed. Everything was still the same. Silence and smile echoed amidst them. He looked at her crown. It was flashing with red saffron.

“She is mine”, he thought with pride.

When the village came to know about their secret marriage , it unleashed a heavy torture. They could not die. Death would be an escapade. They loved each other, so they fled. And here they were sitting beneath the calm sky with no worries to embitter their dreams.

Days passed and their life flourished in bliss unaware of their society's conspiring mind.

It was a Saturday…

 Someone was knocking at her door. She could not believe her eyes. It was her mother. Tears welled in her eyes. She hugged her mother. But her mother stood still as a rock devoid of any feelings and passions. She had shoved her motherhood into the deepest trench of abhorrence.

Her grip on her mother loosened as she saw her uncle and brother. She could see her entire village in her portico. Panic struck her with heavy hands. They were there not to bury the hatchet, but to seek vengeance. They believed both of them had disgraced their castes.

 Somebody handed her brother a glistening sword. She looked around for an easy resort and found none. Hatred spewed from her mother's eyes. Anurag was not yet home.

She knelt before them beseeching for her life. The sword was up in the air. But it could not  strike its first blow. She looked up and saw Anurag clutching her brother's arm. He was fierce. He could not let leave his life easily which he had gathered to nourish. But they had already made up their mind. The first fatal blow wreaked its havoc. Anurag was writhing in the pool of blood.

The drizzle was easily replaced by a heavy down pour. Blood every where. The shattered dream hid itself in the dark corners, not wanting to get drenched in the whirlpool of blood.

She knew it was her time to go , to go the unknown territories. And she was happy for she was not alone. He was with her.

Her eye balls too become rigid looking at him....


P.S: This story is inspired from a real life incident that was reported especially in Haryana and Uttarpradesh.  “Honour Killing'- that's how this gruesome reality is termed. It happens in the 2nd longest democracy in the world - India. A couple was brutally murdered without any mercy. They were not supposed to disgrace their family.  The culprits were captured, but were not apologetic of what they have inflicted not only to their dear ones, but to the entire society. This was not a single incident. Two sisters were cruelly killed for they decided to live their life on their own terms. When one chose modelling as her career, the other chose to lead her life with the man she was in love. Death was the punishment bestowed on these two young women for their crime.


KParthasarathi said...

This menace of honour killing and khap panchayat is peculiar to some states though religion and caste play a dominant roleelsewhere too in ruining lives of couples who dare.

The only way to eliminate this scourge is by unfailing ,deterrent punishment and quick justiuce in every case.Till then such gruesome tragedies would continue.

The story is very well written making one's blood boil at this irrational murders.

Anita said...

It makes me both mad and sad to know that these things happen because of "traditions" that are passed from one generation to the next. A child is not born into this world with some sort of label on him or her that determines his or her entire life; yet people put it on them anyway and "train" them to be ignorant.

I continue to hope and pray for peace among HUMAM BEINGS.

Thank you for sharing this well written story.

Anita said...

Sorry for the mispelled word that should be HUMAN.

Chatty Crone said...

The amount of sadness in the world - the violence - the hurting - the in-humanness in life - all things we must constantly be in prayer for. sandie