Asha - A Ray Of Hope

“Inquilab Zindabad!”, “Jai Hind!” and “Bharat Mata Ki Jai!” slogans flowed in through the open window. Asha, unlike other 14-year-old girls, was not getting dressed beautifully. Her hair was tied in a simple ponytail and she wore a simple salwar kameez. Picking up her hand-made flag she began to creep out of the house by the back door following the sounds of the slogans.

The year 1921 was a very strong one for the freedom movement. Non- cooperation was at its peak. The newspaper daily displayed the success of Indian leaders. The thought about #FreeIndia brought a smile to Asha’s face.

Asha lived in a mediocre Indian family. Her father was a cloth merchant and one of the first to burn the British cloth outside his shop. He now only sold Indian khadi. Long before the non-cooperation, Asha had heard him make remarks about the poor quality of English clothing. Many times, he used to quote “The British administration is as poor as their clothes.” Poor administration or good, the British had managed to stay till so many years. ‘But now India will surely be free’, Asha thought.

She rounded another bend and saw the procession. People were walking down the street with their banners and voices full of vigor and energy. Her brothers and father were out there but the vastness of the crowd made it impossible to locate them. This is the beauty of a crowd. It flows on the street like a river taking all the tributaries along. A crowd symbolizes unity and the dream of an India which Gandhi Ji wants. The crowd took her in and she too took part enthusiastically. It was a men’s profession.

Men of all age groups were present in it. Asha walked amongst them undaunted. She raised her voice and spoke the slogans with vigor. Each step took them nearer to freedom and she could feel it. They were now approaching the center of the town. A Police Chowki stood there.

‘The police won’t harm us’, thought Asha. Asha’s father always believed in the non-violent way taught by Gandhi Ji. He believed that people are hesitant to attack you if you use non-violence. So, the police stood there with their rifles watching the crowd silently. The crowd raised its voice so that they could fall on the deaf ears of the English government.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot and the crowd scattered like a flock of birds. The procession now became a turbulent river. People were running everywhere. Asha found herself jostling in the very middle of it all. She was being pushed aside by so many people. She clutched her hand-made flag close to her chest as she was rocked. All the excitement was kicked out of her while fear settled in.

Around her, some people had already fallen. Trampled to death by the fleeing masses. Their lifeless eyes had no hope. They could never be the part of India they were fighting for. Depression started to crawl over her and she started to cry out for help.

“Asha?” a voice spoke out from the gloom. A ray of light appeared in the dark clouds for this girl. A voice that brought her out from the dark doom she was sinking in. Hands wrapped around her and guided her out from the crowded street. She peeked a glance at her savior.

It was her elder brother Manoj. They turned another corner and entered a narrow alley. Asha took deep breaths and finally felt her legs under her.

Manoj stood there giving her time to compose herself. It is not every day that you find your little sister stuck in a mob shouting for help. “Was someone shot?” Asha asked, her voice breaking a bit. Manoj replied, “No, it was shot in the air to disperse the gathering but quite a few people were crushed to death. What were you doing in there?” he shot back at her.

Asha’s brain was struggling with all that she had seen and experienced and her thoughts were muddled. Manoj caught and shook her, anxiety lined every inch on his face, “Asha what happened at home. Did the police come? Why are you out? Where is the mother? Asha, speak something.”

Asha focused on her brother. Guilt was still eating at her yet his anxiety forced her to spill the beans. “Everything is fine, no one came.” She replied in a whisper. “Then why are you out?” Manoj confronted her. Asha had no apt reply for it but Manoj’s piercingly glare made her reveal her secret plan. “I wanted to take part in the procession,” she replied. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“And why would you do such a thing? Don't you know the danger involved in it?” Manoj asked loudly. “Because I wanted to help India be free”, she said, her voice raised a bit more than earlier. “This is not your fight Asha.” He replied. “It is bhaiya, it is definitely my fight too. I am a part of this country and I will surely help it be free.” The flame lit her green eyes as her words ringing in the alley.

Manoj's eyes were wide as he looked at his little sister who spoke with such confidence which shattered his anger. Her determination made him realize that there was real hope for freedom. He smiled with pride. “Well, we need to head home to tell father about your decision.” Asha beamed and they started walking home.

Her house was just fine for the six inmates, no five she thought. Her sister Meena didn’t live here any longer. Manoj knocked on the backdoor. There was shuffling of footsteps on the other side and then the door creaked open a bit and Asha’s twin brother Sohan peeked out.

Relief was all that filled his face as he shouted, “Manoj is back. Asha is with him”. Before Sohan could pull Manoj in a hug, their mother came out and gave Manoj a big hug. Then she began checking for injuries after multiple assurances from Manoj that he was fine she finally let him go. Then she turned slowly towards Asha and her face changed many shades. She finally chose the red boiling anger one.

“Where have you been, girl? Gone to be killed?” her voice rolled over Asha. Asha and her mother never really went well together. Asha’s mother always believed that Asha was not the right child. Asha was never able to perform the tasks which girls of her age loved to do. For mother, her elder daughter Meena was a true princess.

Meena was obedient and helpful but Asha was like a stupid animal who would never understand the art of living like a perfect woman.

Asha by now knew how to tune out her mother. She tried to come up to her expectations but she always had other dreams and desires. Gaining freedom was more important than learning to cook in her opinion. Finally, it ended and she entered the house.

Everybody was silent now. Her father’s face was bereft of emotions. Mother was still glaring at her. Sohan was confused and Manoj was trying to speak but their father cut him off. “All three of you go to your rooms” was all Pitaji said before sealing his lips again.

They walked out and mother started to rant again, “Have you finally seen her arrogance, seen what studies had made her. She has disgraced us…” And her voice was still boring in Asha’s ears even when she had settled down in her room, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

After some time Sohan walked in, his face was flushed too. “Manoj told me everything, mother is wrong. You did the right thing.” Asha smiled, Sohan was always on her side.

“You need not worry, I will help you, I will even bring Manoj into helping you. It would be great if you join the team. The more people there are, the more chances for us to win.”

Asha felt better now and hope still lit up in her.

Daylight played on her face as Asha got up. Sohan had left after encouraging her. The room felt empty to Asha even though it had been three years since Meena had left. Asha quickly got ready, pulled her hair in a messy bun, and went down to the kitchen to grab food for her rumbling stomach.

She climbed down the final step and heard her mother laughing, well that was strange. Then she heard that clear, soft voice and she knew the reason for her happiness, Meena was back.

She entered the kitchen and Meena turned, her black hair reached her hips and when she turned, they flowed around her like a curtain. Her Sindoor was precise, Mangal Sutra intact, Kajal darkened her brown eyes and overall, she was truly charming.

“Asha”, she cried in her soft voice and gave her a warm hug. Asha returned it. Well, she didn’t actually hate her sister. At times, she over goody girly nature made her roll her eyes.

“Well, Meena, how I wish Asha could have half your qualities, then maybe I won’t have to worry about getting her married”, mother spoke up. Meena replied, “Maa, Asha is having them. Don’t worry.”

Asha asked Meena, “How is Roshni?” Roshni was Meena's two-year-old daughter. Meena laughed, “Oh! as playful as ever. Sohan took her out in the backyard to play with.”

Asha's mother was kneading the dough but the way she did it made Asha cringe and her hunger was forgotten and she knew that now was the time to make a quick exit.

“Okay, Meena I should be going to my room, a lot of work to do today,” Asha added with a laugh that died too soon. “I will come with you”, said Meena. Holding Asha’s hand Meena guided her to the staircase.

They reached the room and Asha sighed heavily, “Maa is still angry, isn’t she?’’. “Yes, she is.” Meena’s face was contorted with sadness and concern. “You shouldn't have gone out.’’

“It’s okay Meena Didi, save the lecture.” Meena looked hurt so Asha tried to steer the conversation away. “You look healthy. I noticed the bump coming out.” She said gesturing at Meena’s stomach. Meena blushed and giggled, “Well”, she said, “Roshni is soon going to have a little brother to play with.’’

“Or a sister. Wow, di, this is really great news”, Asha added, her face finally breaking into a genuine smile.

“No, no Asha it would be a boy. His father named him already we will call him Rohan”, Meena added hurriedly. Asha rolled her eyes and spoke, “Meena di I have read about this. There is always a 50% chance of the baby being a girl or a boy.”

Meena's eyes filled with fear, “Asha, stop saying such things. It can be a bad omen.” Asha shrugged, “Didi it is not superstition, it is a fact.” Meena shook her head, “My family won’t take another girl. They require a boy.” Anger flared inside Asha, “What’s wrong if it is a girl?”

Meena replied in panic, “A girl can’t work, she can’t fight this war, she will just have to go.” Asha spoke with vigor, “Meena Didi, it will never be your fault if it is a girl but always remember that her Asha Mausi will always take care of her.”

Meena was shocked and she stepped back from Asha as if being near her the baby would turn into a girl. Meena then spoke with resignation, “Asha, just because your name means hope doesn’t imply that you dwell in a dream world. I wanted to tell you that you are getting married. India might get its freedom but Asha you would never be free. I overheard them talking about your marriage. It is going to be fixed at the earliest. Pitaji will bring some proposals and discuss with maa.”

Asha’s head was spinning, she held the wall, “No, this can’t be …’’ “It is happening, Asha, you need to let go of these fantasies. Like me, you too will go into a new home. You know why it was easy for me because I didn’t dream this much. Asha let go of this hope.” Saying this Meena left the room. Leaving Asha behind with her misery.

The marriage had taken place within a week and Asha’s hope had shattered many times. The only thing keeping her in control was the plan that Sohan and Manoj had displayed.

The Groom, Deepak’s house was big. It was built in a full-on English style. His father was an officer in the British army. To his father, freedom was a meaningless affair. Deepak (Deep) on the other hand had an ardent interest in it. He loved listening to his friends talk about the processions they have taken part in. He loved to write freedom speeches for them. Even in school, he took part in a lot of declarations. These writings and talks about freedom soon nestled in his mind. He grew restless in his English household and longed to be a part of the revolution.

His father had absolutely disagreed, telling him to not go against the English lords. In their shouting match his father had retorted, “Your dream is based on a brittle imagination, you don't know what it is out there.” Indeed, Deep knew nothing about the lives of revolutionaries. All that attracted him was a huge crowd listening to him speak about freedom.

He was lost until Manoj sought him, he asked, “Deep, do you want to take part in the revolution?” Deepak had replied eagerly in its favor. Then Manoj had put forward the big condition, “You need to marry my younger sister.” Deep frowned, “Why do I need to do that?” Manoj had replied curtly, “For winning this war we need her as much as we need people like you.” Deep had only agreed because he would finally be able to fully participate in the revolution.

They entered Deepak’s house. ‘Probably for the last time, thought Deep giddy with excitement. Asha’s in-laws blessed her. Then Deep’s father spoke up, “Well you both better turn in early as tomorrow you need to visit your great uncle’s house. I will get the carriage ready for tomorrow.”

Deep smiled just a night before freedom.

The carriage had taken them out to the main town near their village. Deep handed the driver some cash and whispered, “Remember to tell Pitaji that we were caught by dacoits.” The driver nodded and left with a heavy pocket.

Following the tiny side lane, they reached the edge of the town. A little away from the road was a dense forest. Deep winced thinking about all the insects in that place. Asha, without a second glance, stepped into it and after following Manoj’s direction they were able to reach the hidden camp of the revolutionaries. Manoj and Sohan were already there. “Come on, we arranged a hut for you both”, Manoj spoke up.

“Can’t I get a separate hut”, Deep wined. Sohan taunted, “Master, all the places are booked. Stay here or get out and build one.” Manoj’s head was painting, they had already gone through a lot of conversation but both Asha and Deep were being too stubborn.

Manoj tried to ease things, “Listen, we all need to work as a team, please Deep, you need to take care of Asha.”

“No, Bhaiya, I don’t need his protection”, Asha replied proudly. Sohan supported her, “Yeah, who wants protection from a guy who is scared of mice”. “They were rats”, cried Deep.

Manoj yelled, “Stop it all of you. Either you both stay together here or I am taking you both home.” Finally, there was silence and they both gave in. The meeting adjourned and Manoj and Sohan promised to visit frequently.

Asha and Deepak stared at each other. “Who will sleep on the cot?”, asked Deep breaking the ice. Asha shrugged, “You can sleep on it, I will take the floor.”

Deep was filled with relief instantly, thank goodness no rats. Asha continued, “Anyways, mice climb the cots at night so, I don’t want to be disturbed”. “On second thoughts”, Deep interrupted hurriedly, “It would be rude to tell a girl to sleep on the floor. You can use the cot.”

Asha smiled as she laid on bed.

In the morning the council met under the big banyan tree. Twenty-four boys in their late teens and a few men who had left their daily lives behind formed the meager group. Among the heads was Meenakshi Kumari. Her husband had died when she was in her twenties, she was participating in this revolution with her son. Being the oldest woman in this camp, she came to attend each meeting to know the new tasks for women.

Her eyes widened when Asha came to attend the meeting. No girl dared come here except her. She stifled her anger to pay attention to the proceedings. “The last procession didn’t last long”, The headman spoke up. “We need to review our tactics as non-cooperation should not lag. We now have members of all five villages near this town. Getting more public support would be a priority.” People started to bring up their woes, for one village it was taxed, the other water.

Deep’s eyes widened, he thought, ‘Yesterday I thought I was the unluckiest person turns out I am quite lucky.’ A man with a bushy beard spoke up, “Our resistance will always crumble, we are just wasting time.”

So many issues and voices confused Asha. She said, “But what about freedom?” All the men looked around at her and Meenakshi Kumari raised her eyebrows.

“Our town is small enough, people in big cities would do better.” Said the bearded man. Asha’s blood boiled up. She was ready to reply that man, coward would be one of the words she would use but thankfully Deep started to address the crowd.

Deep spoke placidly, “We can’t give our burden to someone, these are our problems. This is our battle and we can’t throw it away. There is a fear in your eyes but a life in fear will never be free. We need to rise from the setbacks and plan again. If we stop today, others will lose hope tomorrow and the next day we would again be in total control of the British.”

Another old man with a turban spoke up, “Easy for you to say who walks in here for the first time. What do you know about bondage?” Deep answered him, “Until now I was never free. I was always under my father’s control, now I don’t want to be under the British’s control, so I will fight. If others join me, we would all win quickly. If we stop now, we will reach square one.”

Deep’s words were like balm to the scared crowd. His confidence flowed through them and people were filled with hope. The bearded man spoke, “So what's the plan for today?”

On the ground, the headman had laid the layout of Asha’s village. “We will start from the base and go up till the Zamindar’s house and protest against the heavy land taxes today.”

Asha scanned the map from her spot. To her, this plan didn’t seem any new. She spoke, “The police chowki would still come in between. I don’t see any difference than last time.” The headman blushed, “Well, last time we went till the village square.”

Asha took one stick from the ground and pointed at the side lanes. “We have always made our exits through them. What if we do it the other way. We will dispatch different teams through different lanes. This way, the police would not come to know of our plan. Everyone can easily collect there.”

The bearded man replied, “Well, this is new. Anything else, Captain.” Asha beamed, “I even thought of dispatching a team through the back gate of Zamindar’s house. They will wait until everyone starts protesting so that the internal security and the servants move upfront and then they enter the house and leave a note to tell him to immediately reduce the taxes.”

Meenakshi Kumari cleared her throat, “That is non-violence.” Asha replied, “I took part in one non-violent procession and saw many people died, this is one way to get in their place and tell them that we can hit too”. “The only difference would be that we won’t fall down to their standards”, Deep assured. Manoj added, “Yes, no casualties in that house”. The headman said, “Well, we will try this, now get the boys ready.”

Sohan took Asha aside, “Where did you learn that?” Asha smiled, “You brought a novel from your friend once, but as usual were unable to read it, I read that and it had all that war strategies”. Sohan laughed.

Manoj joined them, “Asha”, he hesitated, “You can’t come with us today. I am sorry. Your plan is good but give me some time to allow you to fully revolt.”

Asha frowned but seeing his concern-filled eyes she gave in. Manoj sighed in relief, “Good, you can have a tour of the settlement with Meenakshi Chachi. Come on Sohan we should get ready.” Sohan pulled Deep along with them and the three went on.

“This is the kitchen”, Meenakshi Chachi’s voice drooled on. It was a bigger hut in which all the food was housed. Five - six girls were busy cooking dinner.

Before any other long lecture Asha spoke up, “Where are the kids taught?’’ “We have no such facility”, the woman replied.

Asha gestured towards the kitchen, “So, all of them are uneducated.” Meenakshi Kumari’s eyes turned cold, “Not all of us are as lucky as you.”

“What about the younger boys?”

Meenakshi sighed, “Sitting in huts passing time.”

“We should teach them.”

“Don’t have the teachers.”

“Fine, I will teach.”

“Okay, I will tell the headman to send all the boys to you.”

“No” Asha answered. “I will teach all the children else no one.”

Meenakshi stood rigid, “Girls won’t be taught. I don’t want more of you walking around here.”

Asha replied, “What’s wrong with me? I even got married after studying.”

Meenakshi rolled her eyes. “What use would education be to them?”

Asha answered, “Education will help them take part in the revolution.”

“This is wrong.”

“No, it isn’t Chachi. If you would have been educated do you not think even you could have given that suggestion. Do you know why no one else was able to change the tactics because boys are taken into the fight very early before they even master the basics? If we teach them and the girls nicely then the future revolutionaries would be more skilled.”

“The society would shun them.”

“Earlier too girls have stood up. Rani Lakshmi bai was not afraid of society when she stood in her battle. Begum Hazrat Mahal was also educated.”

Meenakshi Kumari looked at the girl who brought example after example. She wore a simple dress but now she looks truly marvelous. She has the spirit she thought. She is truly Asha for us. Our hope. 

That evening Sohan rushed to Asha and shouted, “It worked. We pasted the banner right on the wall of the back hallway. The Zamindar must have freaked out as he announced that we can pay the dues after three months.”

Asha asked, “Was anyone hurt?”

“No, we all were gone before the police entered”, Sohan assured. “How did your day go?”

“It was good and I think I might get a job.” Asha pointed towards Meenakshi Kumari who was talking to the headman who was frowning.

“What’s happening?” Deep asked, Asha, ignored him and asked Sohan, “Did he even do something?” Sohan spoke, “He didn't go in the house.”

Deep blushed, “I was on the lookout.”

Manoj came up, “Why is the headman confused?”

Asha replied calmly, “Oh, Nothing. I decided to teach children part-time for free.” “That’s great”, Sohan added, “But why is he confused.”

“Because I said, I will teach the girls too, else no one.” The three looked at her with different levels of surprise. Deep come out of it first, “Should have guessed you would do something like that. Looks like he needs convincing. I will talk to him.”

And he hurried over to the headman. Manoj smiled, “Sometimes, I think you are my elder sister.” They laughed and then the headman stood to announce her as the teacher.

That night in the hut. “Nice planning,” Deep said

Asha replied, “Thank you and nice speeches. Only one thing that you are not afraid of.”

Deep blushed “Words are a great weapon for this war.” Asha shrugged, not really understanding the depth of this.

Ten years later

“Kiran”, Asha shouted from the revolutionary camp hut’s door. “Come in, the food is getting cold.”

Deep entered, “Why are you shouting at the kid?’ “Because like you she is late.”

Kiran ran in. Her black and glowing hair was so much like the

mother who couldn’t keep her. Asha gave her a hug. Kiran might have been born by Meena but Asha was her mother.

Deep didn’t mind the kid, moreover, Kiran was just one of Asha’s children as she had taught so many of them during these years. “Maa, Manoj uncle said there is bad news, they are calling you both”, Kiran told.

Nodding at Asha, Deep went out, and after handling food to Kiran Asha too followed. The meeting spot was filled with tension. “What happened?” Deep asked.

Manoj replied, “Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, and Raj Guru are being sentenced to death.”

Asha’s throat tightened. Bhagat Singh was their idol. His death would be a big blow. People have come a long way since non-cooperation. Civil disobedience was bigger and better. Revolutionaries like Bhagat Singh have motivated common people. They don’t seem like leaders, instead are examples of normal youth stepping up. Plans were coming up around her.

Deep said, “We will go down the main town square and stand in front of magistrate house to show our dissent.”

Everyone readied up. Asha stood too. “I am coming.”

“No problem, lead the way,” Deep said.

They were standing there and displaying all the anger but the magistrate had guessed what was coming. Police were at his house. When they protested, officers came out with guns and started shooting in the air.

The dissent was too high and people didn’t budge. “Inquilab zindabad! Bhagat Singh should not be killed,” voices rose up.

The police brought in the sticks and began the lathi charge. Asha was pulled behind. She couldn’t see what was happening up front. Sohan came next to her, “Police are attacking, we need to turn back.” Asha looked around but Deep and Manoj were not in sight.

“Fine, start telling people to fall back.” They both spread the message and the crowd dispersed through the lanes. At the meeting place, many people had still not returned. Deep and Manoj were one of them.

A boy ran in and announced, “Manoj bhaiya has been taken to jail.” The jail was never pleasant, Asha sighed, the boy continued urgently, “Deepak is dead.”

Silence can hurt. It can bring tears. Then Asha realized it was not the overpowering silence but her loss that brought in those tears. They were never in love but their ideologies matched to such an extent that getting away from Deep was unimaginable. In her hut, Sohan was planning the last rites, Meenakshi Chachi sat by her for a long time then they were gone as night fell.

Kiran’s tear-stained eyes have finally fallen asleep. Asha had no pendant to hold and remember Deep. She thought and realized that it was his words that will always remain with her.

In the morning the audience looked at her with sympathy. Asha hated it but the speech she gave that day held no spite but it was one that Deep would have presented, “My husband died fighting for freedom. He left his words and ideas behind. We cannot stop fighting now as the war isn’t won. Though he is gone his dream still remains unfinished. I will work for it, will you? Together only we can stop this. Today my husband died, tomorrow it can be your son, daughter, husband, wife but why are we going on? Because if we are not free then we are no way alive. My husband was free these 10 years and he worked for the country’s freedom. We need to win this war for freedom. Bharat Mata needs us and we will continue. Jai Hind!”

The sympathetic looks of the crowd were now empathetic and they too coursed Jai Hind with vigor.            

On the arrival of 15 August 1947, the British reign ended in India. People were celebrating and Jawahar Lal Nehru gave a strong speech for all.

Asha looked over the horizon as the sun rose up slowly over free India for the first time. Her face cringed, as she smiled after many years.

Her green eyes took in the beautiful scenery. A scene that Deep would have loved to talk about.

India was free but Asha knew that she needed to keep fighting for girls. Mother India would be free the day all her daughters can live a life like their brothers. This sunrise filled Asha with hope to go through another war for realizing the dream of #FreeIndia. The wind carried his words for her which were always encouraging. Asha felt the soil and spoke, “Words did win Deep, they did win this war.”