I was walking down to the house at the end of the street, returning from my daily sojourn, when I stopped dead in my tracks. A little girl stood in the corner, her face masked by the darkness that had befallen the city. I could see something glistening beneath her eyes though. I walked up to her. She was crying indeed.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“That is the problem. I want something to happen. Nothing has happened.”
What was she trying to say? What should have happened?
“What do you want?” I asked, thoroughly perplexed.
“No one on the streets has touched me yet”
I was taken aback.
“Yeah, no one’s touched me yet.”
It was her turn to be confused.
“Wait a minute. That is a good thing? I don’t understand. Mom said that was what separated this country from the crowd. Men grope women here. It’s everyone’s pastime.”
I stood there stunned and at a loss of words while she cried away.
p.s. The year is (say) 2030.The remaining voices of protest have been defeated and ostracized. Good luck India!!!