Free Barbie

What do you think of me huh? 

A puppet, a doll?
Or even worse, a ping-pong ball?

Barbie was disappointed with her parents. Her mother Piya, one fine morning, just went absconding... until,  two days later, she was found safe in her grandpa's place. 

Domestic violence? Yes she agrees, but who would abandon her only child to seek refuge like this? She was only 12 when this happened to her! Angry, violent, withdrawn, she felt rejected by her own mom! 

Not one day did she call her up to find out how she was! So cruel? 

She needed her the most during her teens. She isn't able to take it anymore when elders of her family advise her now to go to her mom? Isn't she a monster why should she go to her at all? She feels blessed to have her Bomma (big mother, her father's elder brother's wife) by her side when she needed a mother figure to fall back on, especially when she suffered acute chest pain, fever, or migraine, or when she was unsure of falling in and out of love. 

In all these seven years, she tried hard, at least for the first few months, to see that her Mom came back and settled their differences, but what do you do when adults mess up with their lives? Their children suffer... but does it bother them at all? She gave up on her Mom and concentrated on her studies. She somehow survived her school days withstanding immense verbal torture from her schoolmates, their parents, from friends in her neighborhood.

'Hey where's your Mom? She just disappeared? How's this possible!'

If only her father could forgive her Mom, Barbie wondered at nights. But life is never a fairy tale! What if Barbie died? She attempted once, wasn't successful cutting the veins from her left wrist. Even then her mom didn't come. She doesn't matter to her at all???

And now after all this, elders of her family, except her Bomma, are asking her to go her Mom? Why should she? No, never.

It's not that she likes staying with her father and his family either; staying here with Bomma is also insulting in a way, she has to be obliged to her all the time. She hated the word 'sacrifice'... the word got the better of her. Then there's this 'who called, did they call, why, no you won't go alone, wait I'm coming with you'... it feels as though she's under lock and key, she wants to be on the lose! But how she wouldn't know!

'Bomma, why didn't you have your own child?'

'I wasn't capable Barbie. Also I stopped trying after Piya abandoned you.'

Where should she go? She's determined to crack the CAT exam and make it to the IIM, Ahmedabad and build a world of her own. She's thankful to have a handful of friends who don't judge her; they accept her as she is...why wouldn't they, what's her fault? Yes one fault was to be born into this family, or to be born at all? One thing is sure, she will never ever get married.

That's final.

Barbie is just nineteen. As she grows up she'll understand that nothing is final.

She'll also understand that it was because of her Mom she got to see the light of the world; her IIM exams, her friends, her Bomma wouldn't be possible otherwise. The realisation that her Mom could leave because she was sure of Barbie's well-being? Piya after all came from a rich family, both her parents being doctors, with many domestic help. Piya couldn't take it any more when she was asked to cook for the entire family; she wasn't given anything to eat because she didn't cook. Could be her Mom tried to take her along; the other day she received 13 missed calls from an unknown number in her Bomma's mobile, she never got a convincing reply from her when she asked who the caller was! 

'Some stupid telemarketing executive', she snapped. Indian mothers go through situations that are unpredictable and baffling... most of the time it's not within the box! So it could be that her Mom thought what was really good for her, even though it meant giving away her priceless possession? Asking her legally could make Barbie feel like a puppet? Or worse, like a ping-pong ball? Maybe she let go of her. And what if her mom's father wouldn't accept her? When Barbie grows up she'll perhaps find answers to these questions?

And these answers could
fill her with gratitude;
it could liberate her for good,
she could be a free Barbie.
This is based on a true story. Barbie is a third-year student of a reputed college in Kolkata. She studies BBA. Let us pray for her so she gets the very best in life she truly deserves.

Red light

Sujata, like any other child, wanted to study. She was admitted to a good vernacular medium school far away from her neighborhood. 

Initially, she had many friends. She was good at studies, but as time went by she discovered herself as a flutist. Slowly, she became very lonely, this flute became her only company. She stood like Krishna and practised playing the flute for hours. Everyone appreciated her art, but from far. She had this tremendous social scar, that of being fatherless. Slowly, she saw herself sitting alone in the classroom, in the garden. Everywhere.

Today, while she's receiving the Women of substance award, she recounts, with pain, her scarlet past. She received the award for two of her significant contributions to society; one, for setting up a school which teaches acceptance, tolerance, and kindness, where students come from varied backgrounds, including some from her erstwhile neighborhood without feeling ostracized and two, for empowering women who are trained by her in healing through music therapy. 

Dr. Sujata, a true doctor, is asked to end the award ceremony, with her flute. Red lights on, she stood like Krishna and played Pt. Hariprasad Chaurasia's raga Yaman before an appreciative, august audience.

©Supratik Sen

Based on the true story of Sabita Debnath. She recounted her experience in the most popular reality show of Bengal, Didi no 1 anchored by our greatest charismatic personality, Rachana Bannerjee. 

Hands

Her shadow followed him like his own. They were inseparable. Like any other couple, they would also do things together, but there was something unique about this pair. He could sit with her for hours looking at her nimble fingers that wrote dissertations for him, cooked for him, ran softly through his hair, muscular biceps, his wide rough terrains, while his would help her in the kitchen, on the roads, or simply  feel her delicate form dancing, singing, being in the shower, dining; his hands would tell her millions of starry stories gliding through the known meadows; while she would  melt in his hands, he could do anything for her touch. It was as if both the pairs of hands had eyes to see, ears to hear, the foursome knew and played with each other like young playmates.

They were not pressed for time. Both were writers, but their lifestyle was fueled by huge inheritance, or blessings from divine hands, as they would call it! 

- Writing is very fast, isn't it love?
- Fast? How!
- You can wash your hands of a twenty-five-year-old story in just one paragraph!
- Or finish in a flash as they say!

And they laughed together. At other times, they would argue on why Sanskrit literature didn’t have tragedy and why Greek's was so full of them. In the middle of nights, they would wake themselves up, have coffee, talk about losing as winning and other subjects in great depth that couples their age wouldn’t even think of; for instance, how unconsciousness drifts people away from the truth, why relationship is more important than material success, how would Shakespeare talk to Tagore had the two met, and so on; their poor daughter would sometimes come in the middle and say to her parents, perpetually engaged and involved with each other as if the two were one, that she didn’t want to feel like an orphan.

They were known in their neighbourhood not only as lovebirds, but also as responsible parents; one loving daughter was their world. Hands-on activists, they helped the less unfortunate wherever they were and whenever they could. However, they were not attached to any NGOs. A warm and close-knit family, they also helped many people fighting loneliness.

- You are getting more likes now.
- What do you mean?
- Nothing. But I like it.
- Good to know that.

Slowly, they stepped into a strange world, a world where their passion was defined and valued by others. They stopped giving each other a hand; didn’t realize that an invisible monster was invading into their lives. Years ago, they waved off the same monster that attacked them in bits and pieces, as family members; strangely, hostility from their respective parents-in-law and the comfort of blaming them brought the writers closer. Later, both pairs of parents made amends and the monster fled, for good. But this time around it had become very personal. Society never played an important role with them. Their bonding was never affected; they were consciously in their green room practising how to face the stage together. But this time around the monster got the better of them, as there was a room for jealousy they hadn't figured. Words changed, actions weren’t characterizing them anymore, their daughter was unable to recognize them.

They broke off. Now they stay in the same conglomerate, but in three different flats; their daughter, working in an MNC, has also moved out. In all these three flats there is one common picture, a large one that occupies their living rooms.

It is a picture of a beach with a big sand house that looked almost like a ship, built long ago on one of their usual trips to the Kovalam beach in Kerala, in front of which the daughter is seen swinging in the middle of her parents. Underneath, there were these words written in italic:

Nothing can destroy it

With wedding rings still on their fingers, the hands, full of stories, occasionally meet to say hello.