Robin and I didn't get to catch up in between for a few weeks, because I took a trip to my hometown and locked Robin, my wandering storytelling spirit, safely in his home- a fragile scent spray bottle in my cupboard. So when I called him out on that Friday night, he justifiably came out with a fury, hurling abuses in languages I had never even heard of. It took him some time to calm down and regain his proud manners. Once he returned to his usual self, we started off sharing how life was in my hometown and in his..uhmm..tiny scent bottle.
In a short while, the conversations drifted to how much it sucks traveling away from home for earning one's bread and butter. Robin told about the time when the ancient merchants, pioneers who scaled the whole world and brought the civilizations closer, didn't have all these technologies for checking up on well being of their loved ones over a distance. How it took these visionary travelers years, sometime decades to return home after a business trip crossing land, mountains, deserts or oceans. How each trip took a toll on the merchant's soul and he was never the same on his return.
"Let me tell you about a chance argument I unknowingly encountered while locked up in that cursed pendant over one such merchant trip"- Robin took off without giving me a chance to grab something to eat.
Once upon a time there was a large caravan of merchants crossing a desert. This caravan contained 150 camels and an equal number of horses to ferry a variety of goods from Hindukush to Arabia. Aboard this trip there were four travelers who joined each other over the course of journey. You see, a desert took weeks to be crossed, and every night there were incidents of thugs and thieves looting, stealing, sometimes even killing fellow passengers in deep sleep. So the four brothers-in-arm made a pact and declared their exact luggage and its items to each other. To safeguard their precious belongings and even more precious lives, they agreed to take turns keeping a watch every night. They had followed the same routine for 5 weeks so far and tonight was supposed to be just one more such night.
In the desert, it burns throughout the day, but it's equally pleasant at night. Hoards of travelers used to light up their own campfire, dance, drink, sing and sleep within their own sense of security, till the morning red sun made its presence felt. This band of four contained a rich diamond merchant, a sell-sword, an eloquent scholar and the diamond merchant's adolescent slave boy. Like every other day, the group ate, drank and talked tonight. Like every other day, they put the first watch on slave boy and went off to sleep. This slave boy was sold to the merchant when he was barely able to speak his own name and since then he was faithfully serving his greedy yet kindhearted master. If he weren't there safekeeping for his master, either the mercenary himself would have killed the merchant by now or the glib scholar would have coerced him into it. It is such a boon for him to be ignorant and illiterate. The world cannot entice him so easily to give up his loyalty towards his master. The only thing he thought he believed absolutely surely in.
His train of thoughts was suddenly derailed by a little commotion along the next camp fire.
On a more careful attempt, he saw a young girl gasping for breath and running in torn gypsy clothing and a veil, not more than his own age perhaps. He saw her wandering aimlessly, hurtling from fire to fire. When she drew near, his eyes, burning in the light of fresh firewood, met hers- timid and teary. With the scores of armed men chasing behind her at a loosened pace, he understood what was going on. It was almost a sport for men from some tribes to hunt this poor slave girl from a rival tribe, who wandered into their camp side by mistake. Drawing his own courage, he stood up and called her out- "Hey, would you like to sit here for a while? I have some fresh tea boiling." The girl ran to his firewood stock and took shelter.
Her worries were not over though. In fact, now the men who had been chasing her for too long felt their favorite toy snatched away from them. They began heckling the boy and made a big noise. Awakened by this commotion outside their tents, his compatriots came out. While they were trying to make a sense of what was happening, and saving the poor boy from getting beaten up by a unruly mob, a rogue element pounced upon the girl and snatched her veil. That was the moment, all the men stopped their quarrel and dropped their weapons. For they were in the presence of such a terrific beauty, they had never seen the likeness in their combined travel experience. The dazed moments of peace were short lived though, because now everyone wanted to stake their claim on the girl.
The witty scholar silenced the hooligans and called out the law of the land and desert caravan rules, that the slave girl was either a property to her original master or the camp she willingly came to join and they had no claim over her. Some men of honor unwillingly agreed and went away.
There remained still a few who wanted a pie out of this whole fuss, so the diamond trader came forward and gave them a piece of silver coin each. His bribe worked on all, but the one person who was chasing the gorgeous girl from his own camp since beginning.
The mercenary came forward this time, challenged this fearsome swordsman to a duel and killed him off after a fierce battle. He himself suffered a few cuts but the whole crowd gathered for the free show hailed him as a victor at the end.
And now the true contest began.
An argument to prove who was better suited for the claim over the miraculous beauty standing in their camp. While the merchant's slave stood there calming the girl down, the scholar initiated the argument gloating about how he disarmed the majority of that menacing crowd by his sheer word power, without spending a single coin or wound. The diamond merchant boasted how money was the only universal language people spoke in almost any part of the world. The sell sword wasn't the one to fall behind and he showed the still fresh blood on his sword and said really slowly- "Power is the only true power. Neither knowledge, nor money. If my sword and I weren't here today, none of you would have pacified that warrior with all your words and coins."
The trio kept squabbling whole night over who truly liberated that doe eyed trembling girl, but to no avail. Until the wise chief of that desert caravan settled the matter next morning decidedly.
"So who claimed the girl finally?" - I asked.
"What's your guess?"- asked my storyteller spirit.
"Well, all three seem to be right in their way. But if you ask my opinion, I'd rather support that slave boy. If only he also did some brave deed to liberate her."- and I shrugged.
Irritatingly, Robin said- "So have you made up your mind yet on one? Or shall I reveal?"
"Why getting agitated yaar? I was just wondering.. hey, wait a min.. Am I right? Am I right? Was it the merchant's slave? Did he claim the girl finally?"- chirped I.
"Ugghhh, yes you are right."- Robin made a fist in the air toward me and spoke- "But it's just a fluke on your part. You don't really have a reason, do you boy?"
I confessed- "Nah, already told you. I don't think he did anything to liberate her. I was about to go for the mercenary who paid for her freedom by his blood."
"My dear Fatman. That's where you are wrong."- said Robin with a divine wisdom reflecting in his whispering voice. It always glued me somehow to his conclusions. Robin continued to unwrap the suspense- "The scholar paid for the girl's liberation by his knowledge. The diamond trader paid for it by his wealth. The sell sword by his very blood. But all three had a selfish objective of winning her for himself, and only after they could see her ravishing face by a chance. It was only the slave boy who didn't wish to win her for himself. Rather endangered his well-being to save her without even knowing how priceless a beauty she was under that veil.
But above all, the slave boy liberated the girl by act of seeking her permission, while offering her to join in his camp, even if with an intention to protect her. He didn't dictate over her like all the other men in the camp, but offered her a choice. A choice to make her own decision, a choice to trust him or not. He was the only one who saw her as a troubled human being and not an object to be won.
An acknowledgement to an individual's identity and respecting her free will- that's what I call a truly liberating act. That's how the girl chose the slave boy as her companion, when Caravan chief asked her opinion in morning, rather than the boy winning her as a trophy."
Robin was yet again right in his reasoning. Moments flashed in front of my eyes when I took my loved ones for granted, specially the women in my life who made me what I was today. Thoughtlessly and Thanklessly.
The world doesn't really need women empowerment. Women are powerful enough, even way more than men in some domains. We just need to acknowledge their free will and respect their equal right to make individual choices, good or bad alike.
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