Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Round 1 (Match # 26) – Soumendra Majumder vs. Prabhat Singh

*) - “Am I Not A Part Of This Society?”

(# 26 – Soumendra Majumder)

I am writing an assignment in the form of a short story comprising of three chapters (in the form autobiographies), whose main characters are three different women who face the traditions and effects of our modern Indian Society.

Chapter-1 : The Jasmine

Hi! My name’s Champa Das,previously I was called Champa Ghosh(that’s my maiden name). My story is a little bit filmy,you may consider so, but I consider it to be big mean or may I say a kind game of fate. Though not much luckily,I was born in the house of a super rich man who earned his wealth not by the way how other respected members of the society may earn,but by those illegal means that are against the rules of the society-smuggling. Yes,I am the daughter of a smuggler,a criminal,a bad man. But, what made my father a criminal –the society,the government,the people;and to the greatest-poverty.
Due to poverty-lack of proper education-lack of a job my father chose smuggling as his career while the lads of the rich,fat assed seths,babus and businessmen became doctors,engineers,film stars.

My father earned a lot that would help us spend for our life time,but the wealth of evil is always evil.And so we were the ones affected by his crimes-me,my mother and my elder brother. Once it happened(after which it became a regular routine) that my father fled away from the city to escape police arrest.At that time my mother was 8 months pregnant with me inside her and my elder brother (6 year old at that time).She had to hide in the slums to avoid angers and violence of the society. When the 9 month came and she felt her labour pains no body came to her help.I was born in the most primitive and violent way-my mother used a blade to rip her abdomen and pulled me out all by herself.Then hearing her shout all the locals came inside our jhopdi and helped mother to the hospital.Thus I was born.

My father,though not a bastard,never used to live with his mother as she always plotted against my mother.The neighbours,relatives,kinsmen-all were against my father.
And now entered the police to this scene.My father was arrested and also my mother was dragged to the jail.Both were tortured and interrogated and to the best part of our culture and heritage,she was raped by our law-keepers,the police.

Soon my father was killed.And my mother left with a pair of fingers in her hands and two small children and a long life in front of her. To clean off her sins and earn her living she started working as a house maid.And really helped us grow.

I met a boy in my 7th standard,Mithun,he fell in love with me,asked for my hand in marriage from my mother when he was just a child of 15.

My mother saw in him the real man ( lets say “MARD”).

Soon 6 years when I was 19 years old my mother fell ill.To worst of her deeds,her own son never came home to care her or cure her.Instead he came home and took away all the jewellery and money from the locker and eloped with a randy.
It was me,my mother’s second boy,who took care of her.But to my ill fate ,I lost her.She died.And in this long struggle to save her,the one person to support me was Mithun.
After my mother’s death,I was orphaned.But it was Mithun and his family who encouraged me and made me a part of his family-he married me and made me his queen.

Chapter-2:The Beautiful Smile-1

Hi! I am Priyanka Majumder , or just Priyanka ,which is now my professional name.
I was born in Bangladesh. Living there to the 15th year was really a great challenge.Though I must not discriminate racially,but the Muslims there consider eloping a Hindu girl as their pride.And so was I kidnapped in my 15th year by a Muslim guy who wanted to marry me.At that time,my father,who loved me a lot,saved me and exported me and my my mother and sister to India.

After coming to India,I realized how beautiful the society can be.I joined a new school,made new friends and enjoyed a lot. But,as it is said,that the air changes its surroundings.So the atmosphere of India changed me into  a ….. ,lets say,a Play Girl-who would befriend boys,use up their money and leave them to destruction. But,a day came when my playfulness halted and my father came to India.He beat and tried to burn me.And so I ran away to the nearby Beauty Parlour’s owner lady for safety. She heard my story,fed me and and allowed me to sleep at her place that night.This was the 1st time I felt the love of a mother.The reason – my mother had become abnormal,not naturally but had been made my father as he wanted to marry a new bride.This was the same reason why he beat me.

The next day the police was informed and my father was left with a warning.But some days later,to relieve off the pain,I secretly married with a boy,with whom I fell in love.But,the filmy love ended in a very non-filmy way when I was harassed and tortured and thrown out of my in-laws house. I returned home and to my surprise , my father threw me out of the house,sold the house and took away mother and sister back to Bangladesh.
I was left alone to tackle the whole society.I had nowhere to go,nothing to do,nobody to assist. So I decided to use the easy way of earning money to feed myself-I became a prostitute.For a year or two I continued with my new job,which had gained me a lot of fame from almost all sectors of the society,even from the ministers and administrators who run the government.
My life was running smooth and I was enjoying it until one day the brothel was raided by police and I was sent to the rehabilation center. This was the place which showed me the real meaning of life.The thing that I earlier thought as enjoyment now seemed like hell.And after rehabilitation,my behavior and my attitude towards life changed completely.The authorities provided me a job in the theatre company and truly I now think that this life of a good girl is far better than the life of Play Girl.
I still find Mother’s Love in the woman who saved me during my distress-the Beauty Parlour lady. And also to the fascination,my father came back to me and cheered me proudly and after that left. I heard that in Bangladesh,he shows off his pride by showing a big picture of mine and telling people that I am super star actor here in India.

Chapter-3:The Beautiful Smile-2

Hi! I am Priyanka Singh and only Priyanka Singh and nothing else than that.
My story is a common feature of Indian traditional society-Child abuse, homicidal treatment,attempts to kill the girl child,etc.,etc.

Ok! I was born in a Rajput family and is the eldest child in the family.To our traditions,if the eldest child is not a boy , the family is said to be unlucky and evil spirit is said to exist inside the girl and destroy the family. To the most surprising part of my family and society , my father tried to drown me as soon as I was born but was saved by my mother.
Also I witnessed my mother being mistreated and hurt by my family members because she gave birth to me-a girl. And also everybody started to call me “unlucky” as I was a Mangolik (a person born on Tuesday) and also the 1st girl child of my family.
4 years  passed and my mother gave birth to another girl.[In between this period my mother conceived 4 babies but all of them died as foetus.]

Now the birth of another girl heavily infuriated my father and now he tried to burn me, my mother and now my sister.But,this time was prevented by the neighbours as it would drag him to jail. This made him beat us regularly[though he was not an illiterate ,but the owner of a coal supplying firm]. After a year,this torture stopped as a boy was now born to my mother. To my surprise,my father’s attitude towards us changed.He started loving and caring us. After 6 years we moved from our home town to a different region.Here my father admitted me and my siblings in an English medium school only to show off his status and riches. I was not allowed to talk to any other person in front of my father.And also if any day he found me talking to a boy,I was beat up heavily.
I could not cope up with the syllabus and subjects in that new school and as a result I failed in the matriculation exam. This again infuriated my father and he decided to lock me up inside the house and behaved as if I was the maid of the house.After that he sent me to live with my aunt in a far away city,where all my connections to the world have been cut off.

So this was my short story or let me say just an interview of three different women from the modern Indian society of the 21st century.

The things that we find here in common are that all the three women face the ill-effects of the traditions and regulations of the society.

The first two women receive a good life in the final while the last woman faces an unending unhappiness. Thus,from this we can say that unless and until the social status of woman is developed in the society nobody …. Nobody …. Even the gods cannot change the deteriorating condition of India. The question that arises in my mind every time whenever I come in contact with these type of issues is “Are not women a part of the society along with the men?”
With wishes for the good future of Indian society ~
Soumendra Majumder

Rating – 63/100

Judge’s Comment – “Interesting how easily these tiny scenes connect and mend and form a story.  It starts out as just the day, then a person opens up to reveals harsh realities of the world we live in. Appreciate your selection of topics, backdrops. Language, pacing and style are areas with scope of improvement.”

*) - मज़हबी नासूर

(# 39 – Prabhat Singh)

Note: is poem me ye dikhaya gya hai ki indian society me communalism ki bhavna ek generation se dusre me kaise transfer hoti hai. urdu words ki vajah se aisa lg skta hai ki ye kisi khaas religion ko target kr rhi hai par aisa nhi hai.

दो बच्चोँ को सड़क पे खेलते देख रहा था मैँ,  
उन की खुशियोँ को अपने बचपन की यादोँ मे समेट रहा था मैँ।

उनके बेपरवाह चेहरे देखके.....हैरान था उनकी मसरुफियत से,  
आपस मे बँधे थे वो दोनो अपने बचपन से.....इंसानियत से।

कि तभी एक इंसानी हैवान ने उस मीठे सपने को तोड़ दिया,  
एक नन्हे फरिश्ते का हाथ पकड़कर खीँच ले गया....दूसरे को गुमसुम छोड़ गया।

आखो मेँ लपटे दिख रही थी उस आदमी की, लफ्ज़ोँ मे जैसे ज़हर भरा था
वो बच्चा तो बस नज़रे झुकाए सब कुछ चुपचाप सुन रहा था।

''वो हमारे मज़हब का नही, क्या उसकी बदनीयती तुम्हे दिखती नही,  

अपनी कौम को शरमिंदा न कर, उस खुदा से कोई गल्ती छिपती नही''

शायद उस बच्चे की नादानी इन बातोँ को समझ न सकी थी,  
पर मेरी नज़र मे उसकी मासूमियत अब मैली हो चुकी थी।

ये उन छोटी चिँगारियोँ मे से थी जो मज़हब की बड़ी आग लगाती हैँ
समाज को दिए गए ये छोटे घाव ही रिस-रिसकर नासूर बन जाते हैँ।

Rating – 46/100

Judge’s Comment – “This was a really wonderful bit of poetry.  I appreciate the imagery and your description. The poem tells so much about mentality of many Indians. But despite the disclaimer it has a that communal tone to it if you could have added more examples with other religions also then this poem’d look complete in every sense.” 

Result – Soumdendra Majumder wins the match and is author number 4 to get into round of 32. Unfortunately, Prabhat Singh goes to Parallel League. A good Match!

Judge - Mr. Khitij Dhyani (Author, Musician and Artist)

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