“Love is hell; anarchy,” Radha Krishna’s [RK] father bellowed at his son when he knew that RK was in love with one Meera whose caste was a few rungs lower than his own. While the lovers stood before him panic-stricken, the father continued his diatribe against love rather nonchalantly. “Your love-shit would only bedraggle our family honor. Krishna, since you violate ‘Manu Dharma’ for love, you can’t escape from its curse. Your love, I’m sure, will end only in a shambles.”
Pitifully, the Indian society is still mired in hopeless conservatism, with family honor and casteism as its planks. Parents, living in their own cells of tradition, never accept their children’s love. While aggressive ones, to save family honor, do away with their sons or daughters, the less aggressive curse the love of their wards to get doomed like what RK’s father did. RK, though walked out on his family, defying his cherished family honor, was in the emotional doldrums not able to pursue the logical end of his love. He became nebulous being haunted by his father’s curse.
By a quirk of fate, RK went to US for official work. When it was time for him to return home and tie the knot, terrorists blasted the World Trade Center where his office was located. A drama unfolds.
What makes the story real?
‘The Curse’ is a story both real and fictional. It exhorts those in love not to get furious with parental dissension to their love. Lovers would better sail with their parents and persuade them to bless their love.
The night was young, but intriguing. Meera was restless, dark despair ran through her mind. She saw something ominous in the gathering darkness. All through the day, she felt nightmarish allowing her to be swept away by inexplicable scary thoughts. She didn’t know why she was feeling like being in the eye of a storm. To drive away the scary thoughts mushrooming in her mind, she turned on the TV. She grimaced when all channels running special news bulletins. She became curious, focused her eyes on the TV screen.
“Today a black day for America,” a young, flamboyant newscaster, sporting a black top, read the news in a somber tone. “Terrorists”, she continued, “having hijacked civilian planes, crashed them into the Twin Towers and made them collapse like a pack of cards. Pentagon too was hit by another plane. Over 5000 people are feared dead.”
Meera was perplexed; her heart thumbing, felt like falling into an abyss. She had beads of sweat covering on her forehead. She began breathing hard. However, her eyes were still focused on the TV.
News clippings now showed the collapsing of the Twin Towers; they were plummeting to the street below. Interminable billows of smoke hung over Manhattan’s sky. Red tongues of flames melted the monumental structures of the Towers.
“Krishna”! Meera screamed her head off, fainted and collapsed on the floor.
This is my entry for the Harper Collins- India Blogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.