The lifeless me………really??

I feel a bang against my trunk and I wake up knowing something was wrong. I open my eyes to see the dearest darling father upset with his daughter for the first ever time. It took me a moment to comprehend what exactly was happening…. afterall I am a mere wooden door.
The father and the daughter have been sharing a congenial bond for a long time but I somehow think it is soon going to end. Very soon as the daughter invited this man into her life. He is young, handsome, pretty rich. Then what is the problem? CASTE.
Dad:” I cannot accept him. He is not of our caste. You have led us down.”(bangs at me again. Ahhh)
Daughter:” I know daddy, but I really like him. He respects me a lot and moreover we see a great future ahead.”(crying)
The conversation continues and extends into volcano of emotions. But however the father rejects their idea of marriage and she is just broken. She could have left her father but she doesn’t because she loves her father more than anyone else. But she is not happy ,she made a sacrifice just because she had to.
I am nothing but a door. Neither can I be heard nor are my thoughts considered. But think how drastically their relation is going to change with this one instance because the caste is the barrier.
Caste is a medium which is created to break the society into pieces. It has enabled the people to build walls between each other. What is wrong in marrying a person from the other community? You all share the same blood, you all eat the same food, you all live under sun. Then what is wrong? The peoples’ conviction is wrong. Their nodding heads to all the crap the society ever asks them to do is wrong. Their mentality is wrong. Their frame of mind is wrong.
But is the society ready to accept its mistake? No absolutely not. Will it ever? You should know…. I am afterall a wooden door.
Had the caste system not been there wouldn’t the father and the daughter live happily ever after?
Hmmm……. A lot for today. I always wanted to have life but after today I have to reconsider.
Too much thinking makes my colour go grey like your hair so back to being the wooden door.

Hindu Reddy


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