The next morning, I awoke with the thought still fresh in my mind—I must finish these stories today. My hand had worked late into the night, but there was still more to be done.
Each word had to be perfect. These stories weren't just for the sake of writing; they were meant to inspire, to stir something deep within the hearts of those who heard them.
As I made my way to my study, I spotted Sufiyan coming down the corridor, a determined look on his face. The moment our eyes met, Sufiyan approached me quickly.
"I've already decided on some gawai," he said, his tone filled with quiet confidence. "Today, I'm going to see them and start their training."
I stopped in my tracks, a mix of surprise and admiration filling me. I had only just given Sufiyan the song yesterday, and already he had moved forward, selecting singers, or gawai, to begin spreading our message through music. It wasn't just efficiency—it was as though Sufiyan truly understood the urgency of our cause.
"You move fast," I remarked, impressed. "I only provided the song, and you've already found the gawai?"
Sufiyan gave a small smile. "Time isn't on our side. We need to be quicker than the enemy, quicker than their reach. The people are ready; they just need the right voice."
I nodded, a quiet understanding passing between us. This wasn't just about action—it was about timing. Every moment lost was another moment the British grew stronger, and the window to inspire the people grew smaller.
"Well, I'll leave you to your task," I said. "I have to finish the stories today. I want you to take them once they're done and spread them along with the song."
"It will be done," Sufiyan replied, determination etched in his features.
As Sufiyan walked away, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. He was doing his part—moving quickly, gathering people, spreading the message. Now it was my turn to finish what I had started. I headed straight to my study, determined to make every word count.
As I settled at my desk, I began to recount the stories I could write. Each tale needed to resonate with the people, provide context, and ultimately inspire action. I thought about the topics I wanted to address—unity.
For Patriotism and fighting against the British, it still couldn't be shared too openly, as that could reach the ears of the British, spelling disaster.
Damn the Britishers! We can't even share stories of our own choice in our own country, I thought, shaking off the unnecessary doubts that lingered.
I contemplated: I just have to provide some stories so that those people from the Voice of Kolkata can catch my drift and understand what thoughts and ideas I want to share with the common people. Then I am sure those people will be able to write and create more stories and poems on their own.
I envisioned a series of tales: one or two stories paired with poems for each theme. For unity, I chose the classic fable "The Bundle of Sticks" by Aesop.
It was a story that every child learned in modern times, and its message was clear and powerful. In the tale, a father teaches his quarrelling sons about the strength of unity by giving them a bundle of sticks. When they each try to break the sticks individually, they fail. But when united, they cannot be broken.
Such a simple yet profound lesson, I thought. It speaks volumes about the strength we have when we stand together. This fable would not only be familiar to my audience but also reinforce the idea that unity could help them overcome even the most challenging obstacles they faced.
Next, I considered the poem. The famous Indian children's poem "Ek Chidiya Anek Chidiya" came to mind, with its rhythmic lines celebrating the collective strength of many birds coming together to find food.
I reflected on this poem, which embodies unity in a playful yet meaningful way. It's perfect for sharing among the families in the villages.
I quickly began jotting down my thoughts, structuring them to blend seamlessly with the fable. I envisioned the stories being recited in village gatherings, each line echoing through the air, reminding people of their shared strength.
Outline of the Stories:
Story: The Bundle of Sticks
Theme: Unity
Basic Idea: A father has three sons who often argue and bicker among themselves. To teach them a lesson, he gives them a bundle of sticks and challenges them to break it. They struggle, and then he separates one stick for each son to break. The lesson of unity and strength becomes clear to them, highlighting that together they are unbreakable, while alone they are weak.
Poem: Ek Anek Aur Ekta
Theme: Unity
Basic Idea: The film features a single bird that faces challenges alone. As it struggles to navigate its environment, more birds begin to join it. Together, they demonstrate the power of collective strength, showcasing how working together enables them to overcome obstacles that one bird cannot tackle alone. The story emphasizes that unity and cooperation are essential for achieving greater goals, highlighting the message that "together we are stronger."
As I completed the final touches on the story and poem, a sense of relief washed over me. I summoned the servant to call for Sufiyan once more.
When Sufiyan entered the room,
I said, "I have completed a story and a poem. I want you to share these with the Voice of Kolkata. Encourage them to write more on the same themes of unity and patriotism. Once they've crafted their pieces, spread them as far as you can. We must keep this effort discreet; there's no need to attract undue attention from the British."
Sufiyan nodded, understanding the weight of my request. "I'll ensure it remains low-key. The last thing we need is for the British to catch wind of our activities."
"Also, look for people who can translate the songs, poems, and stories into different languages. We want to ensure they can be shared among the locals without any barriers," I added.
"Consider it done," Sufiyan replied, his determination evident.
After Sufiyan left, I felt a wave of relief. This was a significant step forward. If these stories and songs could bring people together, even in the smallest way, it would be a monumental success. Yet, I was aware that challenges lay ahead, particularly from the British. They would not sit idly by as voices rose in unity.
The following week, Sufiyan kept his promise. He had already started training the gawai in secret, ensuring that neither of us attracted the British's attention.
I had secretly heard the song being sung in harmony by various gawai, and it sounded beautiful. A sense of pride welled up inside me; I was confident they would be ready for their secret performances.
During this week, Sufiyan suggested, "We should also share this song and poem with Wajid Ali Shah. Given his deep interest in the arts, he may help us and contribute his ideas to our cause. His support could be invaluable."
"You're right. His influence might help solidify our movement. Let's reach out to him and share the songs and stories," I agreed
"Leave it to me," Sufiyan assured, ready to act.
I also thought "I should also share these songs and poems with my father maybe with his support, we can also get Mirza Ghalib onboard".
As Sufiyan left, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. With each passing day, we were building a network that could empower the people. We were uniting voices that had long been silenced, and if we could reach just one more heart, it would make all the difference.