Meera's Pledge

Meera's Pledge

4 mins
461


 Meera stared, with a hint of admiration and pride, at the exquisite jewelry-all the glass and precious stones of the ornaments glinting magnificently in the light of the overhead chandelier- arranged in an orderly fashion in the display cases. The girls she had hired after careful consideration, waited upon their customers, attired in crisp cotton yellow sarees and navy blue blouses, professionally. Meera had entered the fifth year of her jewelry-boutique business, which had displayed a steady revenue growth and stable margins owing to the uniquely delicate and mesmerizing forms of the ornaments which were growing in popularity, both among the rich and even the not so well-to-do, the pricing being reasonable. Bigger rivals with presence across a wide number of places had begun considering the boutique with respect and treating it as a competitor.

Reaching till this stage had however not afforded a bed of roses. Meera had to don an exceptional amount of grit and clairvoyance to run her business. More was her need for courage due to a certain impairment she had, the cause of which was man-made.

Meera, born and brought up in the village of Aaspur in the district of Bareilly, had had a liberal family when compared to those of other girls in her village. They had put a great emphasis on her education and on the need for a woman’s holistic independence. When she would step outside to go to school along with her elder brother, neighbours would whisper amongst themselves, some inspired by the child while some others casting aspersions at her audacity. Unfazed, she continued for higher studies. In order to satiate her love for fine arts, she went ahead with a Bachelors in jewelry design from Delhi University. She would discuss animatedly the nitty-gritty of making even the smallest piece of trinket and show the intricate designs she had created whenever she visited home during college vacations.

One day, she was on her way home on yet another action. Twilight had dawned already. Suddenly she could hear footsteps behind her. With a beating heart, she turned around. It was Mukesh, the son of the Panchayat head of the village, known throughout for his notoriety. He was said to be studying Engineering in a popular college in Noida. It was rumoured that his father’s power and wealth had got him through and that he continued to pass semesters as well through his father’s influence, because he was rarely seen attending classes and instead hanging around the college campus, indulging in matters such as Eve teasing and ragging with several so-called followers, who would refer to him as ‘Bhaiyaji’.

This Mukesh appeared to have taken fancy to Meera and now tried engaging her in a conversation. Meera, disgusted by the vulgarities he was known to often get involved in, thereby being well aware of his character or rather the lack of it, continued to ignore him resolutely till she reached the safety of home. However, she was not destined to escape the administration of brutality when she stepped out the next day for performing an errand. The hurt ego of Mukesh, who considered himself over and above everyone in the village, being the kin of a powerful village officer induced him to conduct a crime inhumane and cruel.

It was dark when Meera was returning. Suddenly a liquid came lurching towards her face. It was an acid attack that burnt away half of her facial and throat skin. She screamed aloud, pain and shock engulfing her. She understood whose deed it was. Her family vowed to put the criminal to justice. But the lawmakers, themselves corrupted by bribery, dismissed the case stating a lack of evidence.

But Meera refused to break down. She rubbed the tears of her grieving mother and calmed her angry father and brother. She knew that the only way to get over the scar was to pursue her passion. And so she did. Taking painstaking efforts at acquiring a Masters in Jewellery design, acquiring loans for setting up a boutique and burning the midnight lamp for bringing out unique new designs, she had at last reached a zenith in her career, when people were forced to admire only her genius and forget about her flaw.

One evening, as Meera sat looking at her accounts for the month, an old gentleman came visiting her shop. Dumbfounded, she realized that it was the erstwhile Panchayat head, whose son had caused her such an injustice. After admiring her shop for a while and buying a few ornaments, he spoke out meekly to forgive his only son, who had been afflicted with Cancer and was awaiting his end any day. Meera could say nothing but only wonder at the vow she had fulfilled-of success and revenge.


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