He was sitting in his easy-chair in a very comfortable way, reading a book about the rise and fall of the states. It was almost midnight and it was complete silence except for the occasional sirens of patrolling vans or ambulances. The door opened up with a bang loud enough to draw his attention from the book. In the middle of the opened wooden door, she stood.Her condition looked miserable. Her hair was untidy and her silent eyes were full of unshed tears. He looked at her in surprise. She moved into the room with a quite tired gate as if there was something stopping her from taking the steps. She approached the bed and almost fell on it as if she was longing to sit for years. Her eyes were burdened by heavy sleep. He stood up from his chair and moved to the bed.
He sat in front of her and gazed at her with total confusion. She spoke “You were thinking of me. Weren’t you?” He was again surprised. “Take some rest. You seem too tired. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He tried to make her relax. “Yes I am tired. But this night is never going to end you know?” he took her hand it was as cold as a block of ice. He glanced at her fearfully as he felt the coldness of death in her. “I have been driven very wrong” she uttered, “I am now tired of all. You see, I am dying of it.” She sobbed. “It will be alright. Stay calm please.” He tried to give her some hope. She shook her head immediately and replied with fury “Nothing is going to be alright. Don’t you see? They are all getting lustier. There will be no change without your involvement.” “But I am an ordinary man.” He gave a weak argument. “Yes you are but get yourself aware of your rights and responsibilities to save me.” He stared blankly. “Do you know my mission statement?” she asked. “Yes I do. It said ‘of the people, by the people, for the people’.” I replied quickly. “Yes. It has been followed with a slight change. The general term of “People” has been replaced by the specified one.” She said and left the room closing the door behind her.
He opened his eyes and found himself still in his chair with the book inverted on his chest. What was that? An illusion or a dream! He thought. He moved to the window, removed the dark heavy curtains and looked out. It was a dark night- a very dark night indeed.
Neither the moon nor the stars were visible on the sky.
He started feeling suffocation in the room; opened the side door and stepped into the balcony. From this height, in darkness, he could see the “sleeping city” of “un-sensational people”. He thought again of her and tried to justify himself. But, she was right after all. She was misused whenever someone got a chance. She was driven forcefully. We all are responsible for whatever happened to her. She has been abandoned of her beauty and turned to a deserted forest or a barren land or else she is now like a dead cloud or like an empty ocean, like a snail with no pearl or like a desert where occasional wandering of tribes occurs. Yes! She is torn, broken and fractured face of democracy; fragile enough not to defend herself. But we could have raised slogans to defend her and perhaps we ought to do it now. It may be our last chance to save her.
http://www.alrasub.com/tale-fractured-democracy/
