Proud

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Her heart swelled with pride when her name was announced. Her friends and peers cheered and applauded. She couldn't contain her happiness and excitement as she walked up to the dais where the chief guest and other eminent people sat. When she was handed the scroll that proclaimed her a graduate and the gold medal that made her a rank holder, she almost fainted.

From the stage she looked at the audience, a sea of black robes and hats bejeweled with the beaming faces of proud parents. She looked away with the pain of realization that there was no one accompanying her. No parents and family members to applaud and click pictures, no one to discuss future plans with.

Walking down into the crowd of students, she went straight to her professor and her best friend since childhood, Dr. Anne. She hugged her tight and broke into soft sobs.

“You have done us proud. Forget the past. You made it……..all on your own.” The words comforted her.

Her journey had been fraught with obstacles, but she had now risen from being the mute, dependent wife of an abusive man to a strong, educated woman on her path to independence. She was glad that at the age of forty, she had graduated as a topper.








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Disgust

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Around her the crew members were buzzing with activity fixing lights, testing the sound system, shouting, giving and receiving instructions. The choreographer ran up to her panting “Let’s try the new moves for today’s song Ma’am. She sipped some juice, swept up her hair in a ponytail and took her position. She watched the steps being demoed. Now it was her turn.

All eyes were on her, the beautiful supermodel tuned actress. “One, two three….” Loud Hindi music filled the entire set. The lyrics and notes blared into the cool morning air. The song went on to describe the heroine as a piece of tandoori chicken, one whose snap was worthy of being glued to one’s chest. The crowd that had gathered to watch whistled and hooted, pleased with the flowing words that objectified women, depicting them as just an easy means of pleasure.

She was horrified upon seeing people laughing and cheering at the cheap lyrics. She didn't find it amusing at all. In fact, she found it disgusting. For the first time in her acting career, she found herself reflecting about the roles she had portrayed so far. What was it about the twists and turns of her hip, songs with repulsive lyrics and women in arm candy roles that attracted such a fan following?

She was in a fix. But ultimately she decided to bow out of the assignment. She knew of the risks. The labels that would be slapped onto her. Betrayer. Arrogant. There could even be legal issues. Worse, offers to do films would dwindle. But she was sure she didn't want to be a piece of chicken or jalebi anymore.







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Imprisoned

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Prisoner of thoughts,
a mind-set that rots,
confined and trapped
by  beliefs strapped.
Unable to spill out
of fear and doubt,
secured by locks
the iron gate mocks
at my helplessness
clueless restlessness.
An eternal wait
for a turn of fate,
a saviour with a key
to set me free.
I kept waiting
hoping, berating
the confining lock
a mere mental block,
I worried without pause
about a lock that never was.

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