By Hasan Abdul Basit
Like orchids, Kiara did justice to her name, an impish delinquent child, a bright erudite teen, an excellent example of a successful person. Even so, her once vigorous eyes are showing the signs of a wounded stag. Her indomitable spirit has been strangled and choked to a point where all she can do is weep. Traditions and social standards have once again killed a flower. Why won’t they? It doesn’t hurt to pluck a flower off the tree, does it?
Secretary Kamruzzaman believes it’s a bad omen to shed tears on a jovial occasion. He fails to comprehend his failures as a paternal guardian as he pushes a life off a sanguine cliff. Where a dream shreds, he sees a new life. Where spirits are institutionally broken, he sees happiness. He lays down on the rocking chair as he shrugs off a parasite from his life. Only irritated because he thought he was immune to the crying nonsense of women after spending 20 years together with Mrs. Kamruzzaman only to figure out that he wasn’t. He was having trouble containing himself from profusely slapping his daughter on the face, ungrateful parasites should at least consider respecting the host that feeds them.
Mrs. Kamruzzaman shed a tear or two trying to console her daughter. Trying to talk sense into her about the new beginning, new responsibilities as it is the social duty of a woman to present her hand to a man and bear his offsprings. But then she had had enough as she couldn’t believe what an ungrateful monster she bore in her womb for 9 months!
“Studies!” She shrieked! “Those hellish western witchcraft is the reason why you have become such a disobedient dense fool! The only education you need is how to raise a family!” she screamed.
But Kiara had dreams, just like any other person! She was a trojan, a free soul, not some mute to be put in a stable! But she was muted as Mrs. Kamruzzaman struck her on the face. The tears went away as her eyes lit up, not a single tear in her eyes. Rather, there laid a smile to win a thousand hearts or to burn down tyranny. Mrs. Kamruzzaman took a step back as she was startled by this abrupt act. Then quenched her face and left the room as it was clearly just some madness.
But it wasn’t just some madness. Kiara wasn’t the girl to lament, her heart lit up as her inner Valkyrie rose up. She wasn’t a beast to be traded, she was going to break the shackles. Her obstinate personality would not go down in the ranks of her mother and grandmother. Her refined and cultured mind wouldn’t give up to social stereotypes. A person isn’t born to be an entitled slave, slavery is obsolete. It should be her decision when to find a partner to pair up with. She wants to fly high up in the sky just like albatrosses. She wants to be as wise as the sagacious mountains, she wants to be as free as The Mighty Nile. Life is not a fantasy, no princess belongs to a prince and no knight heroically saves the day. Knowing this she made up her mind. A decision of her own. A command no one can topple.
She knew society wouldn’t just let her be herself. She knew what would be her only escape from this hellish incarceration. She walked up to her parents whom she now hated more than anything in the world and told them that she had done so.
Mr. Kamruzzaman was now happier than a spoiled brat on a Sunday, so was his wife as she felt a divine relief. Their job as successful parents was done. Kiara flung into her bed, into her treasured books, the ones that gave her hope, and those that showed her light. She was happy as she was just about to eradicate tyranny in her life.
No! She didn’t give in, she didn’t wear a garland of roses on her neck. She took up the noose.
She finally became free, a last drop of tear fell on her cheeks only to sparkle like the happiest pearl in the universe. She wore her last smile as her cold deceased body hung from the ceiling.
Because she had finally won. She had finally become free.