Innocence vs Crime

 The inmates of the home looked fresh. Adolescent boys, I would rather put them as. Were they guilty of any crime. I couldn’t judge from their behaviour. As my feet dragged around in half-confused, half-disturbed state of mind, my eyes wandered about the rooms and the walls to draw a picture of their lives and minds. Suddenly a young chap of around sixteen entered the room. Hastily greeting me with folded hands, he uneasily looked away. I stared at him for a while. Childhood had not left his face and attitude yet. 

“What brought you here?” I involuntarily questioned, immediately regretting my words. 

“Rape” someone mumbled from behind. 

“Rape?” I repeated in a concerned tone. Looking at him I felt a chill go down his spine. 

“Friends incited you or what?”- I asked in a somber tone.

“I loved her, she loved me too! We just decided to escape the tantrums of her home” - he answered. 

“They had fled for a night and thereafter the parents of the girl accused him of rape madam. He’s a very well behaved boy” - someone clarified from behind.

I felt a deep pain somewhere, perhaps relating it could be anyone’s darling son. I tried to make good my gesture but I was myself a little  shaken, by his innocence, his sincerity or may be worldly immaturity to understand where he stood now.

Looking at him, in a lighter vein I laughed a little speaking- “First fall in love with yourself and then you could think of a girl. Do you even look old enough to feed yourself that you decided to feed your girl for life? No worries, just spend your time well here, and you will find many loves in your life going ahead in life. Just ensure you use your life well after you leave this place. Rest all ok. This stay is just temporary. Is everything else fine here for you?”

“Yes” - nodded him with the sweetest smile. 

As I walked back, I wondered do parents of boys forget to warn their wards- “Don’t get distracted from books , don’t fall for beauty at this age, don’t trust anyone with assuring words if they are not family.. blah blah just the way, parents and guardians of girls in India trail their every move and every call. For a minute I even thought young boys were perhaps more at danger- legally. Even under-age pregnancy is dealt with with partial compassion and some residual stigma. What about the male child? Rape? As I couldn’t relate the word to those innocent eyes, I walked back with a mind that was puzzled too much to think clearly at heart. 

Parity and not feminism!

They say Indians have a scant respect for their history. This inference is drawn from the hypothesis of deficient aptitude in proper documentation and over dependence on verbally transmitted affairs vulnerable to distortion of facts.

 Despite all such allegations, it cannot be disputed that women in India, have always had to fight tough battles for things we today assume to be our obvious birthrights. In this context, we need to be thankful to our mothers and grandmothers who have propelled us into a brighter lives than what they could ever afford for themselves. The right to education, to learn, to decide one's dressing, to marry a person of choice, matters of procreation and higher up to the nature of employment and economic self-reliance never took the women's opinion into matters of decision making. Thus we are fortunate enough to have had predecessors who have led us to this day.
  It is a sad truth that gender discrimination still prevails in the society yet we need to liberally acknowledge that the need for Gender parity is a growing idea, so much so that unlike the darker past, sexist remarks and opinions do not find the ease to run scot-free.
Thus the world is preparing for us, to see us in a better light, receive our voices and opinions more seriously and to count on our suggestions and critical thinking for better development of the society.
In such a ground, it becomes a moral obligation for each member of this "half-the-world" to grow and develop while helping others to realise this need.
As the fair-er gender (not in terms of skin complexion but in terms of our contribution to the world so far), the onus lies on us to use our potential better, because we raise the future, right from the wombs upto the battlefields if the need arises.
As a fair interpretation of changing society, we thus should be walking into a more equal and not necessarily a feminist society. As women, we ought not give ourselves that discount of under-performance or mediocrity in achieving our respective dreams. We need to prepare for and walk into a future that inspires hope, with an air where not necessarily our heels, but our heads are held high!
Into a brighter, happier world that we would work for and we belong to.
   

Lost and dreaming

Shreeti became conscious of the existence of the city in which she was born and brought up when her teacher asked her to pen down an essay on the same. All the ten years she had taken the city for granted, exploiting it's offers but blissfully oblivious of its glory.
Shreeti nervously kept biting the butt of her pencil until the the small eraser attached to it started dusting off in granules small and large. The ringing of the bell, alarmed her back to awareness and reality. The teacher strolled up to her, gave her the disapproving look and retorted.. "Obviously you were lost!"
Shreeti stood up with a bowed head, still caught between fear and confusion. The teacher struck a ruthless red mark on the notebook, leaving a warning that the work must be done by the next day.
Shreeti rushed back home. In her soiled socks and crumpled tunic, her grumbles awakened her mother Sarita, to her daughter's dilemma. Flipping through the pages, mother could be seen changing her expressions from concern to thoughtfulness.
Sarita cancelled Shreeti's after school tuition for the day. After a brief nap, dressed Shreeti up in crisp clothes and took her out in her meek and humble gearless moped.
"Look around baby, this is the city the streets you have been well acquainted in all the years. Try to overlook the balloons and ice cream parlours and enjoy the sight of other things around." Mother even stopped to point at the sacrosanct temples,age old churches, magestic monuments on the way.
Zooming through the winding ways, seated comfortably holding her mother's waist  Shreeti gaped at the huge trees, the scribbled walls and the stone forts. The cool breeze of the flanking river almost lullabied her to sleep.
On the way back Shreeti complained about the quick return, even pointed at the incompleteness of the tour without the show-stopper cone of ice cream.
However she was dragged back lest darkness befall the city and Sarita's freedom as the woman of the house. At the dinner table shreeti mumbled to herself, as her mother stepped nearer and stuffed a little food into her mouth. Stroking her hair affectionately Sarita spoke with a stern voice.. "Do the pending essay baby. You might be punished tomorrow". Shreeti's sleepy eyes were barely open till the end of dinner, let alone do a couple pages of writing.
The next morning Sarita sent her off disappointed, feeling helpless and guilty of her inadequate vigilance about the girl. Shreeti meekly mumbled to the teacher.."the dog ate my homework."
In her mind she had flashbacks of mother's futile efforts to educate her and attempts to induce sincerity. The teacher's scolding appeared like mere ranting. Her eyes had nearly moistened when a renewed voice and consciousness had spoken out.. "But I remember all I had written and can speak it out right away"
At further encouragement the daughter began with unabated flow and confidence, words of glory about Cuttack, the optimistic note behind the closely packed houses and ever increasing traffic. The stories about the brave rulers who reigned from age unknown. When she couldn't recall things in precision, Shreeti made up small parts to arouse interest and attention. As she finished off the apparent essay and real extempore, she was beaming and shining with sounds of a standing ovation of the students and the teacher alike.
News spread home and Sarita gave her a loving scolding for having lied at school. Secretly Sarita had decided to discontinue Shreeti's tuitions for good while happily treating her daughter to a double doze of chocolate ice cream and muffin.

Lost and dreaming

Shreeti became conscious of the existence of the city in which she was born and brought up when her teacher asked her to pen down an essay on the same. All the ten years she had taken the city for granted, exploiting it's offers but blissfully oblivious of its glory.
Shreeti nervously kept biting the butt of her pencil unless the the small eraser attached to it started dusting off in granules small and large. The ringing of the bell, alarmed her back to awareness and reality. The teacher strolled up to her, gave her the disapproving look and retorted.. "Obviously you were lost!"
Shreeti stood up with a bowed head, still caught between fear and confusion. The teacher struck a ruthless red mark on the notebook, leaving a warning that the work must be done by the next day.
Shreeti rushed back home. In her soiled socks and crumpled tunic, her grumbles awakened her mother Sarita, to her daughter's dilemma. Flipping through the pages, mother could be seen change her expressions from concern to thoughtfulness.
Sarita cancelled Shreeti's after school tuition for the day. After a brief nap, dressed Shreeti up in crisp clothes and took her out in her meek and humble gearless moped.
"Look around baby, this is the city the streets you have been well acquainted in all the years. Try to overlook the balloons and ice cream parlours and enjoy the sight of other things around." Mother even stopped to point at the sacrosanct temples,age old churches, magestic monuments on the way.
Zooming through the winding ways, seated comfortably holding her mother's waist  Shreeti gaped at the huge trees, the scribbled walls and the stone forts. The cool breeze of the flanking river almost lullabied her to sleep.
On the way back Shreeti complained about the quick return, even pointed at the incompleteness of the tour without the show-stopper cone of ice cream.
However she was dragged back lest darkness befall the city and Sarita's freedom as the woman of the house. At the dinner table shreeti mumbled to herself, as her mother stepped nearer and stuffed a little food into her mouth. Stroking her hair affectionately Sarita spoke with a stern voice.. "Do the pending essay baby. You might be punished tomorrow". Shreeti's sleepy eyes were barely open till the end of dinner, let alone do a couple pages of writing.
The next morning Sarita send her off disappointed, feeling helpless and guilty of her inadequate vigilance about the girl. Shreeti meekly mumbled to the teacher.."the dog ate my homework."
In her mind she had flashbacks of mother's futile efforts to educate her and attempts to induce sincerity. The teacher's scolding appeared like mere ranting. Her eyes had nearly moistened when a renewed voice and consciousness had spoken out.. "But I remember all I had written and can speak it out right away"
At further encouragement the daughter began with unabated flow and confidence, words of glory about Cuttack, the optimistic note behind the closely packed houses and ever increasing traffic. The stories about the brave rulers who reigned from age unknown. When she couldn't recall things in precision. Shreeti made up small parts to arouse interest and attention. As she finished off the apparent essay and real extempore, she was beaming and shining with sounds of a standing vocation of the students and the teacher alike.
News spread home and Sarita gave her a loving scolding for having lied at school. Secretly Sarita had decided to discontinue Shreeti's tuitions for good while happily treating her daughter to a double doze of chocolate ice cream and muffin.