As she read the glaring headline in the newspaper, her heart skipped a beat. A mutilated face of an 8-year-old child stared back at her. Soaking in the injustice that happened to her, she played with the twisted strands of pasta dipped in a gorgeous pesto sauce. She took a bite of it, savoured its goodness and waited. And with every bite, she marinated her thoughts.
May be, just a few centuries ago there was a different world. A world where the human race honoured, respected and was in awe of the woman.
May be in this world, the XY were weak. It was the man who got raped, dishonoured and abused; where every home mourned the birth of a boy. It was in this world that the woman was the head of the house. She had the power, the stature, the freedom.
May be, just may be, a few centuries ago, that world realised the cruelty it was subjecting onto its men, who rose in mutiny to vanquish the all powerful woman.
And then they succeeded.
A new world was born. We live in it today. But may be we’ve lived in it for far too long. May be there’s another mutiny brewing somewhere.
The mutiny was brewing in her mind. But she had to find a way to channel it into the twisted world. Setting it straight was probably not achievable. But trying, was the only option.