Dark clouds covered the sky outside, signalling the probable onset of monsoon – their favourite season.
Yet, they chose not to venture outside and enjoy the sight of waves lashing on the tetrapods with a scarcely believable intensity from inside the beach side cafe.
Gusts of wind blew outside wiping away the dust and dry leaves on the earth. As the manager of the cafe ignited the fireplace, they looked at each other. The warmth in his eyes aptly reciprocated by her.
The moment was there for the taking. The elements were in their element. “I love you.”, he said.
Today
Their gaze was ahead, no longer were their eyes emitting fire towards each other. But the warmth was unmistakable as they walked side by side.
Dry leaves lay scattered on the road, forming a carpet for them to walk on.
The sea was calm and there was no breeze. It seemed as if their ebb and flow had been absorbed by the lady and her companion.
The sky was clear, forming a bubble for their love to blossom.
The elements were calm, yes, but they had done their job a year ago by setting in motion an endless story.
For the characters in it to savour, for the whole wide world to revere.
अवघ्या ९ वर्षांची होती ती. होळीचा सण – तिला कधीही न आवडलेला. शाळेला सुट्टी असताना देखील ती घरातून निघाली होती dance class ला जायला. आशा इतकीच कि तिच्या केसांना व शरीराला कुठेही रंग लागणार नाही.
17 years ago
She was just 9 years old. It was the day of Holi – a festival that she had never liked. Although she did not have to attend school that day, she left home to attend her dance class, hoping dearly that her hair and body would not be free from paint.
तरी समोरून आलीच एक पोरांची टोळी. आपल्याच मस्तीत मग्न. “ओ जी, बुरा ना मानो होली है!” म्हणत तिच्या केसांना आणि गालाला गुलाल लावून ते निघून गेले. ती मात्र उभीच राहिली, आपल्या अश्रूंना पुसत.
And yet, a group of boys of her age approached her, oblivious to her aversion to paint. They left, but not before shouting cheerfully “Don’t mind! It’s Holi!”, as they applied gulaalto her hair and cheeks. She stood there, numb and on the verge of tears.
एकाएकी तिच्या गालांवर तिला एक ओला स्पर्श जाणवला. तिने वर पाहिले तर तिच्या रहदारीत आलेला तिच्याच वयाचा नवीन मुलगा पाण्याच्या बाटलीतून पाणी रुमालावर घेऊन तिच्या गालांवरचा रंग पुसत होता. “काळजी करू नको. तुला नाही आवडला ना हा रंग म्हणून पुसून काढतोय.”
Suddenly, she felt moistness on her cheeks. As she looked up, she saw the new kid on her block soaking his handkerchief with water from his bottle and wiping her cheeks with it. “Don’t worry! You did not like this color, right? Which is why I am wiping it right off!”
“अर्रे, किती गोड!”, ती हसली आणि आपल्या गालावर उरलेला गुलाल तिने त्याच्या गालांवर लावला. त्या क्षणात त्या मुलाला जे सुख मिळाले ते काही वेगळेच होते.
“Aww! How sweet!” she laughed and smeared some of the residual gulaal on her cheeks on to his cheeks. The happiness the boy felt in that moment was indescribable.
आणि त्यासाठी लागले तरी काय हो?
चुटकीभरच तर होता हो रंग. तीनच तर होते शब्द.
पुरेसे होते.
त्यांच्या मैत्रीची सुरुवात घडवून आणण्यासाठी.
And what did all this require?
It was just a pinch of color. Merely 3 words.
They were enough.
To mark the beginning of their friendship.
आज
लाल रंगाची भरजरी साडी नेसून ती अत्यंत सुंदर दिसत आहे. तो हि अगदी नटून आला आहे. १७ वर्ष उलटली आहेत. होळीचा सण परत आला आहे. पण ते एकमेकांना पाहू देखील शकत नाहीत. ठीक आहे. थोड्याच वेळाचा तर प्रश्न आहे.
Today
Her beauty stands enhanced by the red saree with intricate design that she wears. Even he has dressed up for the occasion. It has been 17 years since they first met. It is the festival of Holi again. And yet, they cannot even see each other. That’s alright. It’s just a matter of time.
अंतरपाट खाली केला गेला. त्यांनी जणू तो क्षण आपल्या डोळ्यांमध्ये कैद करून घेतला. रंगांऐवजी अक्षतांचा भडीमार झाला.
त्याने तिच्या कपाळावर चिमूटभर कुंकू लावले. सर्वत्र तीनच शब्द उच्चारले गेले “शुभ मंगल सावधान!” जेव्हा त्याने तिच्या गळ्याभोवती मंगळसूत्र बांधले तेव्हा दोघांचे सुख एका वेगळ्याच पातळीवर होते.
The antarpaat was lowered. It seemed as if they both had captured that moment with their eyes. Instead of color being showered, as is the custom on Holi, akshatawere showered on the couple.
He applied a pinch of kumkumon her forehead. Everyone around shouted in one voice “Shubha mangala saavdhaan!” When he tied the mangalsutraaround her neck, the happiness they both experienced was on another level.
वर्ष उलटली आहेत. परिस्थिती देखील. परिणाम वेगळा आहे. पण साधन तेच.
Years have gone by. Circumstances have changed. The result may be different and yet, the means are the same.
चुटकीभरच तर आहे हो रंग. तीनच तर आहेत शब्द.
पुरेसे आहेत.
त्यांच्या निरागस नात्यावर कायमची मोहर लावण्यासाठी.
It is just a pinch of color. Merely 3 words.
They are enough.
To stamp the mark of permanence on their relationship which was full of innocence.
Introduction: The post below is a transcript of a speech delivered as a part of an elocution competition ‘Speak Up’ organized by the Bombay Chartered Accountants Society (‘BCAS’) in the year 2015. While the circumstances at the time may have undergone tremendous changes, my views certainly have not. This International Women’s Day 2020, I hope that each one of us takes one step forward towards ensuring gender equality.
It is extremely heartening that the Indian society, which is historically known as patriarchal is witnessing an upheaval of sorts with feminism – an ideology propagating equal rights to women vis – à – vis men gaining momentum and being seen as a movement altogether.
We are all witnesses to an activist seeking entry to various places of worship where women are not traditionally allowed to enter and gaining substantial level of success in doing so. We have also seen demands for the freedom to choose what to wear and the freedom to travel late nights without being judged. While these aspects are necessary, are they worthy of being accorded topmost priority to ensure that both genders are treated equally? Is it really imperative that action be taken to ensure that these demands are fulfilled without paying heed to the other growing forms of malice?
According to me, no! It disappoints me immensely to say that these demands have only led to people supporting these causes and being self-proclaimed ‘feminists’ while ignoring the larger issues at hand. Unfortunately, ‘feminism’ in its new form is not an ideology but a mere tag that people confer unto themselves in an attempt to look ‘cool’!
In a country where dowry deaths, honor killings, female foeticide and infanticide, rape and other forms of violence have increased to an extent so as to render them commonplace, the aforesaid demands should ideally not form the primary priority. Active intervention is being taken in respect of entry to religious places where crowds are going head-to-head with police forces and what is being done to counter violence against women is candle-light marches and online petitions?! The feeling of helplessness I experience when I attempt to think of alternative courses of action and fail time and again is unnerving!
Feminism is a concept that I understand as something through which I would be seeking equal rights for me and my sister, for my mother and my father. Nothing less, nothing more. It is due to this that I feel disappointed by the fact that feminism would “win” if my sister is allowed to wear the clothes she wants and travel late at nights, but our family would still feel threatened with the danger of potentiality of violence against her in the form of eve-teasing, molestation and rape and even the extremity of human trafficking looming large.
For me, feminism would indeed win when all these dangers are eradicated. For people who advocate taking baby steps to achieve long-term success, this struggle has been for centuries, presumably even millenniums. The time is now to break open the bastions, bring down the barriers and win the mighty war. Once the war is won, the battles would be won automatically.
Wherever women are honoured, divinity blossoms.
Where they are dishonoured, even the most noble action remains unfruitful.
It is due to this reason that I opine that a woman who might be able to gain entry to a religious place after being a part of a struggle to do so would still not be liberated if she returns home to a barrage of verbal and physical abuse from her family. The divine powers might be happy when a woman gets the right to enter a religious place or to choose what to wear. But they would be happier when atrocities against women stops and women are treated as who they are – humans!
In conclusion, I feel that the new wave of ‘feminism’ is in essence ‘pseudo-feminism‘ as it focuses on issues that can be dismissed as trivial in the context of the greater issues at hand which can only be solved through harnessing the collective efforts and intellect of the society at large.
Words on a canvas 