Breaking the silence
ONE of the profound luxuries of childhood is enclosed in the fairy tales and their characters,
which can detach you from the weary life cycle, and drive you to a magical world. Perhaps, there is always room for a story that can transport people to another place.
I suppose, my grim childhood was solely responsible for not meeting any fairy tale figures, until my grey hairs and the wrinkles began the ageing process.
Most of us have our own personal favourite fairy tale characters, which levitate from fascinating children or countryside stories. However, I found mine in Azadi March, also known as the Tsunami March in 2014.
At very first acquaintance, my fairy tale figure was full of life and unconquerable, a man predestined for greatness by unique qualities in his character, ready to turn on the light.
Without an algorithm, happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
The political elite, whether we like it or not, have become a symbol of danger to civic prosperity.
The profound societal fracture and visible divisions, in the absence of a master, are always catastrophically perilous for a nation’s future.
For decades, the shades of grinding poverty, intolerance and sectarian divisions, have enormously craved for a leader who would piece together with the nation to lock the “Chamber of dejection” to spin the wheels of a robust social and economic system.
In truth, Azadi March was fashioned by the passionate vows and hymns, which imitates the uncut recap of the Christmas season.
Just like Carols of gladness ring from every tree, reminding us all that Christmas is more than cards and candy, it is a season of decision and dedication.
It is worth recalling the garlanding fairy tale character of Tsunami March, which wrapped the entire nation in an ersatz sheen of pseudo selflessness.
Lavishly chanted mantras of my fairy tale figure and his squad successfully persuaded the voters to re-brand their lives by rebuilding a nation where equal opportunity exists for all citizens in all fields – from health to education with a magic stick.
Similarly, he promised to fight against a dark wizard which intends to become immortal and intolerant to ensure women, minorities, the poor and the disadvantaged are not exploited by the powerful or discriminated against.
In my own experience, it seemed obvious to me our fight wasn’t against our opponents, but it was against the clock.
However, I didn’t have any doubts about the capability of my fairy tale character to overthrow all magical powers which govern non-magical people known as the victims of the status quo.
I was recklessly expectant, he will disapprove of hatred and intolerance by rebuking dark creatures and pulling down all fences to make the entire country united.
Given a dense un-understandability to the styles and habits of my fairy tale figure, his lifestyle was extravagant, with a knack to deliver magical speeches that refurbish hopes.
The colourful imagery and captivating promises branded in the Azadi March, charmed us to also believe, this very fairy tale figure would arise to rescue us from the locked castle of goblins.
Finally, I set my sleepy eyes to see the first beacon of prosperous future of my Kingdom, an egalitarian society based on the rule of law and economic justice after all spells will break down.
Dream to rebuild a fair society, where a struggling elderly cobbler, shopkeeper and chauffeur will be cured to receive all beauties of life, were the golden promises of my fairy tale figure.
Amid emotional warfare, my fairy tale figure also made a magic mirror that distorts the appearance to show people what they want to see.
The mirror had a feature of only magnifying the bad and ugly aspects of others. He took the mirror throughout the Kingdom, delighting in using it to distort everyone and everything.
Through the magic mirror, I saw a thriving Kingdom with millions of new houses, a debt Free State, job opportunities and rule of law but sadly that was a trick of the magic mirror. Magic mirror saw me what I wanted to see.
Needless to say, things worked in stark dimensions and we did not quite get what he bargained for.
As a result, he changed nothing which even alienated the system to warrant hunger, despair and tyranny in the Kingdom. Unfortunately, the python of greed and corruption continued to blight my Kingdom.
Maybe it’s modern, maybe it’s reckless self-harm, maybe it’s the pervasive influence of my fairy tale character for having no courage to face the truth.
The Nation is powered not by love but by its annual budget, rule of law, governance – and love has never paid a hard-pressed electricity bill.
I am exhausted to admit it was a story of jealousy and untrue promises which are dead now and lie deep down in a glass casket.
This story has great elasticity and will be used again and again as one of the prodigious retellings of magnificent lies.
In the end, it doesn’t quite work out; my fairy tale figure did not come to rescue me nor saved me from the power of black magic.
What I found wonderful about this tale, and still do, is that my figure turns out to have accomplished a comically small feat and ends up a hero.
There is something incredibly human about my fairy tale figure – he’s an everyman, not a statesman.
Finally, a magic mirror slips from our grasp and falls back to earth, shattering into billions of pieces, some no larger than a grain of sand.
—The writer is senior columnist based in UK.
