(1)
She
was the New Generation girl. She was taught to dream big and accomplish bigger.
She didn't believe that she ever faced any prejudice. Everything that came her
way was an opportunity; Equal and unbiased. Not to mean that she was unaware of
the reality of being her, but she had become immune to the fixed gazes
and the indecent advances. She could easily look through the chauvinism
masquerading as chivalry. She had learnt to think beyond her gender. Neither
did it make her feel bound nor did she feel unduly rewarded.
She
was an asset. The one that parents invest into. The one that goes to far off
shores to pursue her dreams. The one that could raise a family all by herself.
The one that heads big corporations. The one that could run shiver down
anyone's spine by a mere look. The one that could disarm everyone by just a
smile.
And
most importantly, she could do all this better than her natural
counterpart.
She was the face of the 21st century Indian woman.
Educated. Empowered. Emancipated. Elegant
(2)
He
was humiliated like many of his clan. His birthright of being the more
important cog in Nature's balance, had been painfully snatched away. His
beliefs were shattered, and with all the machismo on display, he was terrified
underneath. He felt orphaned. His perceptions had the backing of
seeing his mother being insulted, chastised and dishonored and her accepting it
all as fate. He was sure that the her black eye and swollen cheeks were a
result of something consensual. He saw his father deriving pleasure in showcasing
him as the trophy while his sisters were raised in oblivion. He was brought up
in a way that him being born was obliging enough. But now, he was
stunned. He was no longer the obvious winner. He had to compete, and more often
than naught, he lost, to her. He was baffled at her eloquence, etiquette, and dignity.
She couldn't be
equal. She represented everything that needed to be reformed
in the society. She couldn't be in the same league. She couldn't surpass him. She was the
aberration to the Culture, the Tradition, and most of all, the Equilibrium. He had to stop this shift. Somehow.
He thought he was the face of all the suffering for Indian men .
Disgruntled. Disturbed. Disgraced. Defeated.
And when he attacked her, he taught her a lesson. And when he
punched her in the gut, his masculinity triumphed. And when he attempted to
outrage her modesty, he settled scores for his sustained endurance. And when he
laughed menacingly at her cries for help, his manhood exulted.
A
force suddenly hit him between his eyes. All he could fathom was that it was
probably a punch. Before he could even see his assailant, a kick to his
abdomen, knocked the winds out of him. This was followed by a frantic barrage
of blows to which he could neither respond, nor recover from.
His bravado laid there unconscious, probably dead, but definitely
infertile.
(3)
He
lived a routine life. Irrespective of his socioeconomic standing, it was his
ordinary methodical life, that defined him. He usually went unnoticed which did
frustrate him a little. Here, you have to be either famous or infamous or rich
or extraordinary, just to be seen. Or being a woman in a voyeuristic country
would do. He was none.
But
even his mundane life style had educated him enough about the significance of his
Natural mate. He discarded the notion
of singularity; Instead he celebrated
their differences. He was not from Mars. He firmly believed that both were
created to be indispensable. The society did push him to the brink of
objectifying her, but he successfully resisted the temptation,
at least, most of the time. And when he couldn't, he had the sense of not
letting it go overboard. He did what he deemed was rightful, made periodic
errors in judgment and befittingly repented. However, this tussle of his, did
not, for once, belittle her value. He didn't materialize her
sexuality, rather, appreciated her sensuality.
For him, they were complementary and frequently exchanged
roles.
Passion and Calm. Adventure and Inertia. Emotion and Pragmatism.
Audacity and Caution.
And when he defended her, he acknowledged her
worth. And when he fought for her, he reiterated his beliefs. And when he
went berserk, he restored the balance. And when he left quietly, he reinstated
the faith.
He was a common Indian man.
Faceless. Reluctant. Survivor. Soldier
Image courtesy- http://www.vday.org/~assets/images/obrulogo.gif
