Chocolate Fantasy

    

     The pitter-patter from the cabinet did not do much to disrupt the quiet of the kitchen bustling with activity. Whether it was the ringing sound of laughter or the clattering of pots and pans or the kitchen shelves lined with cheesecakes and sorbets, the sprawling red bricked bungalow was overflowing with festive spirit.

     The muffled voices from within the cabinet went unnoticed and scheming going on inside the packet of chocolate cream biscuits went on with feverish fervour. With pastries and pancakes adorning the tables, the biscuits felt sidelined and wished to be placed atop the ceramic quarter plates held in beautifully manicured hands. They tried to pull themselves backward with full force and then catapulted forward. But, that made them move even backward. Biscotti, a biscuit amidst them with a heart of chocolate eagerly agreed to offer its help. He was the last in the queue and started pushing the one in front and the one in front started pushing the one before it and so on.

     The thumping continued for some time and the packet moved forward to fall out of the cabinet, on the head of the baker. He readily opened the packet and the biscuits rolled onto a ceramic plate as they had desired. The house maid carried them to the living room. They were passed from one hand to the other and savoured by one and all. The chocolate cream melted with appreciation and everyone was all smiles. To get noticed we need to make efforts rather than merely relying upon the prevalent circumstances.

Preserving Life

     The village was the silent witness as the night welcomed the dusk with open arms. The birds chirped merrily in the azure morning sky in the appreciation of the sun that had risen in a hopeful heart. Every day marked a  new journey towards a new mission to pay the debt of humanity. Many roads and many a paths led to the darkness that symbolised the cluster of souls engulfed in despair. But eventuallythey were all the options to be chosen from and embarked upon in order to begin the quest to enlighten lives.


     Aastha opened her eyes embracing the new day and embodied the sunrise. She looked around to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. Her smile gave way to a frown as she reflected upon the consequences that had brought her into the tiny dilapadated shack.


    Today was the day to lend a helping hand to the opressed once again. Many such events in her life had left scars in her memory that she knew would never take her leave. But she could not deny the fact that that such encounters with  the stark reality of life had made her a better person and had brought out the courage in her that had been hidden behind her composed and fragile demeanour.


    She was a social worker who had devoted herself completely to the cause of humanity. Obstacles never used to intimidate her as she had always believed in taking the bull by its horns. The upbringing in an orphanage where she had been brought up by nuns had instilled in her the values that had compelled her to serve the distressed. She had the courage to stand up against the malpractices clutching the nation and the in the cross around her neck she felt the presence of her late parents' blessings.The news of female foeticide in a nearby village had reached her through an article that she had come across in the newspaper a month back.But in the next publication the editor in charge had profusely apologized to the Sarpanch of the village and this was followed by the reporter being sacked. Aastha tried to contact the publications but the authorities bluntly refused to cooperate inspite of many trials. Then she struggled to find out the residential address of the reporter and went in search of the reporter himself but was distressed when the realisation dawned upon her that he was missing. This raised her suspicion and she started for the village immediately taking lodging in a small guesthouse.


    She took a deep breath and set out to work. She tried to come across as a tourist and started moving around with the camera. She was startled to find that the humungous male population overshadowed the insignificant female population. She tried to get facts from the ladies but they were scared to death and therefore hesitant to share their thoughts with a stranger.She had almost lost hope when she heard sobs while walking past the local hospital.

She peeped inside through the window to witness a horrible sight. Newborn babies were being dropped into vessels of boiling hot water by burly compounders and the Sarpanch herself was supervising the brutal murders. Aastha recognised one of the compounders as the missing reporter. She was shaken by the heartwrenching crime but stopped herself to take any immediate action and restricted herself to capturing the crime scene on camera. She had a strong feeling of being followed on the way back so she rushed back to her rooom hiding the camera reel in a secure corner and replacing it in the fraction of a second.

     She was not surprised when someone started banging the door. She opened the  door gathering all her strength so as to come face to face with a few of those compounders who pushed her aside to start searching for something frantically. They found the camera and soon it was in bits. She realised that she had lost consciousness. When she came back to her senses she realised that the whole room was in shambles and blood was flowing from her head. It had dawned upon her that the survival of truth in the world of  lies is tougher than we think.

     A few days later she sneaked out agin to pry on the Sarpanch. She ended up being brutally injured but great mental strength lied beneath her composed demeanour and fragile body. She waited for a few days to recover and then left her bed with a strategy in mind. She contacted a few of her friends and requested them to help her out with the plan. Her friends visited the village and approached the arpanch as job councellors for the women. On the prospect of productive jobs that would bring income to the village, they were taken to a nearby village for a few days where councellors were appointed to counsel the traumatised and ignorant women understand the value of self reliance and self esteem. They had realised that after bearing immense pain to bring a new life into the world they cannot destroy their own flesh and blood who are the sole creators. Now they knew that we should not be afraid to open up our eyes so that we can see a better tomorrow.


     All the village women now stood up against the malpractice. the Sarpanch was afraid and tried to seek the support of the men of the village but by now they were also prepared to speak their mind. The Sarpanch was overthrown shortly and all those involved in the crime were acquitted by the court after the camera reel that had been kept safely by Aastha was presented as evidence along with the statement by the villagers.

     Aastha stood outside the hospital with open arms gazing at the sun embracing the warmth. Humanity had won as always. Faith in humanity must never be lost. In the confrontation between a stream and a rock, stream always wins through sheer persistence and not strength. Aastha's goal to liberate the oppressed was accomplished but the mission to help the world to peep inside their soul in order to discover that light lies within us and not around us, still continues. She revisited the village after a few years and a smile spread across her face as she was engulfed in the mesmerising laughter of the little girls from all around.

The play of life

   
   Shakespeare believes that the world is a stage where each and every character plays its role assigned in the act, exiting the stage thereafter.

   A classroom comes into view and the whiteboard is focused upon. A red marker and a grey duster are to be seen. The marker stars scribbling on the board and the duster erases the marks but appears to be dismal.  He notices that the marker is always full of life and then starts reflecting upon his own life. A thought bubble is drawn by the marker on the board. The duster is unhappy as it believes that the marker is used constructively but on the other hand the duster is the root cause of elimination, of destruction.It secretly wishes to take place of the marker.

   One day it notices that the marker is running low on ink. The marker closes its eyes and goes peacefully to sleep with a content smile on its face after playing its part convincingly. A green marker replaces the red marker, ecstatically. It scribbles a thought bubble on the board for the duster who realizes that construction follows destruction and vice versa. For emergence of life, end of life becomes vital.

   From that day markers keep on coming and going with different acts and the duster contentedly erases the marks for new doodles on the white board.One day it also gets worn out and has to be sent offstage so that another duster comes into play.Construction goes hand in hand with destruction and ends with beginnings. Everything and everyone is irreplaceable till it is time for them to descend the stairs from the stage where the play called life takes place.