ravi s

Drama

4.7  

ravi s

Drama

The Mysterious Butterfly

The Mysterious Butterfly

6 mins
574


When the “Honeysucker” released in one of our most prominent local magazines, it was an instant success and very controversial. It was a story like one had never read before. Tamilians are a very conservative lot and would like to put up the appearance of being righteous and morally upright. At least, this was so some thirty years ago when this story was published. While the issue of the magazine sold like hotcakes, the reaction of a large section of the readers was vitriolic. The magazine was flooded with letters from angry readers demanding the management to withdraw the issue as it was “corrupting the minds of readers and youth.” Another section of the readers heaped praise and commended the magazine for it's “bold and brave initiatives.” 


Well, this story is not about the story published by the magazine. Even as the “Honeysucker” was lapped up by the public, people began to wonder who the author was? The story itself was credited to “The Butterfly”. Now, we all knew that butterflies cannot write stories even though they may be honey suckers and the real ‘butterfly’ was really a person, male or female. But who was he or she?


At our home, my parents were shocked that someone could write such a puerile story and that a magazine of such repute could actually publish it! I must explain here that we are a family of Tamilian Brahmins and we all carry the surname Iyengar. I told you Tamilians considered themselves conservative during the time this story happened. Well, Iyengars could be probably categorized as the custodians of ethics and morality, which means that my family was amongst the most conservative of the conservative Tamilians. I still cannot understand how and why my parents read the story, but the fallout was, at least to say, catastrophic. 


My younger brother and two sisters could not get to read the story at home, but they did manage to lay their hands on the magazine via their helpful friends. We would group together in the most secluded and shadowy part of our house and discuss “Honeysucker”. We would analyze the story for its contents and end up agreeing that there was nothing in it which could be remotely objectionable. Yes, there were explicit references to kissing and lovemaking, but mind you, these were subtle and veiled. We admired the author who had written the story; this was a radical departure from the stories we had read before, which all had family values and morals as their central theme. Will this mystery author write more, we wondered.


The next fortnight edition of the magazine published another story from ‘butterfly’. This was named “The flower blinked”. It involved a murder, mystery and a romantic angle. Again it was lapped up by the general Tamil public as never before. The magazine was even forced to reprint the edition as people gathered outside their office and protested that they had not printed enough copies! Again there was an outcry that the magazine should be banned. Outraged Tamilians wrote to the chief minister to stop the magazine or else dire consequences may follow. This angered those who supported the ‘butterfly’ and soon there were clashes on the streets of Madras. Such things were unheard and the government did not know how to deal with the situation.


Who is the ‘butterfly’? This question loomed large over the state of Tamilnadu. Papers carried different stories of who the author could be. Some said it was a woman and that is why she was hiding behind her pseudonym. Some journalists confirmed that it was a male writer, someone working for the magazine itself who was writing the stories. The magazine was deliberately creating this aura, this mystery around the writer so that it could sell more. It was just a publicity stunt. Yet other enterprising journalists called the author, whoever he or she was, a coward. He or she knew that the stories were puerile and afraid to be exposed. They challenged the author to come out openly and disclose his or her identity. The supporters too wanted this, for different reasons. The author was being hailed as the writer of the century, someone with immense talent and skill; someone who was not afraid to show the mirror to the society.


The third story titled “The knife’s tongue” became a blockbuster. This time there could be no controversy as it was an out-and-out thriller. Even my parents appreciated the story and advised the author to write more like this than on sex and love. My sister pointed out that this story too had the “S” thing hidden between the lines, but I believe it was found acceptable by even my staid old parents. 


“But why to write anonymously?” asked my sister.

“Maybe the author does not want to be known” my mother replied.


“I can’t understand why a brilliant writer would not want to be known?” I said.

“Could be that he is afraid of his family.” My brother reasoned.

“Yes, that could be true”, my other sister joined “His parents would not allow him to write such stuff, or maybe write at all.”


“His parents? How do you know the author is not a woman?” my father broke in. “ I am quite sure that it is a woman who is writing all this, and she is afraid that people will hate her when she reveals the truth. Such stories can be written only by a person from an uncultured family. Definitely not from families like ours.”


“But don’t we read the stories? What is so uncultured about it? Even Anna is a writer, aren’t you Anna?”


Everyone’s eyes turned towards me as my sister threw the bombshell. I laughed at her and said “ Yes, I write essays on politics and religion. Writing is not bad, is it Appa?”


“Not at all, I never said writing or writers are bad. It’s only what is written that is good or bad. Like this ‘butterfly’. Look at her, shameless writing. Anyway, why should we worry about who wrote what? This is democracy and people can write or say anything. It is for us to stay clear of all this corrupting stuff. God, this is Kalyug!”


Do you now understand why I did not put my name on those stories? Frankly, I wanted to. But my mentor dissuaded me. He said “ Look Vasu, you come from a traditional Iyengar family. You wear the mark of Vishnu on your forehead. You are a threaded brahmin. You don’t look like a writer, and definitely not a modern writer. So you need a new name, a new personality that your fans will create for you, an Alter Ego, do you understand? You see, when you write these stories you are not Vasu, the Iyengar brahmin. You are someone else. Keep that someone, that writer in you, separate from you. Don’t mix him up with yourself. Heed my words and you will not regret.”


I heeded his words and told the magazine that I cannot use my real name and they cannot, under any circumstances reveal my identity. If they agreed to my condition, they can publish my stories which I shall write exclusively for them. They read my story and agreed. 


Years later I decided to merge my alter ego with me. My sister till date says she knew it was me. My parents refused to believe it till their last breath. My fans still read my stories with the same gusto as they did “Honeysuckers”.


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