Voices of Dreams and Dignity
Chapter 18: Voices of Dreams and Dignity
The Singh household courtyard lay bathed in lantern light and cooling night air. Dinner plates sat half-emptied, children's laughter faded into the distance, and the neem tree overhead whispered in the breeze. Yet the conversation remained as alive as ever—now passing into the hands of the women.
Vandana sat on a low bench beside the tulsi plant, cups of sweet chai in her lap. To her left, Kavita wrestled with her emotions; to her right, Nirmala cradled her dupatta, poised to speak. Across the yard, Bharat lingered in shadow, listening intently.
🎙️ Kavita's Voice: Music, Film, and the Power to Preserve
"Didi," Kavita began softly, "since Jed ji (Ajay) asked his question, I've been thinking constantly. Can I share?"
Vandana nodded.
"Music was always part of my life. My mother hummed bhajans as she cooked; I learned ragas before I learned school lessons. But the more I've seen, the more I realize how expensive making real music is—microphones, recorders, mixers, speakers, all imported. A basic sound adjuster from Japan costs more than a teacher's salary for three months."
She glanced toward the children, one holding a stick to his lips like a microphone.
"I see girls with voices like Lata Mangeshkar, singing into tin pots because they have no way to record. So many folk songs are vanishing before they're even heard."
Her voice grew firmer:
"And film—Hollywood, Europe—they have cameras that capture dreams in crystal clarity. Their editing suites, their lighting rigs, their special effects bring stories to life. Their films earn billions, building ever bigger technologies. In contrast, our young directors scrimp on cameras and give up before the first scene is shot."
She paused, then added the deeper sting:
"They portray our culture as backward—our villages as dusty relics, our traditions as superstitions. They shape global minds to see India as a country that has nothing creative to offer."
Kavita's eyes glistened.
"If we built affordable, portable studios—sound recorders, video cameras, editing tools—made in India, in our languages, we could preserve our music and cinema. We could tell our own stories, with dignity and beauty."
👗 Nirmala's Voice: Weaving Pride into Every Thread
Nirmala spoke next, her tone calm but fervent.
"Fashion is our heritage, but it's slipping away. Walk through Hazratganj now—gowns, skirts, foreign cuts everywhere. A girl in a saree is seen as old-fashioned. Our Phulkari, Bandhej, Chikankari, Kanjeevaram—treated as costumes, not culture."
She folded her hands.
"In their films, European and American women dress in ways that strip them of dignity—bare backs, mini-skirts—as if exposure equals empowerment. Girls here see that and think they must abandon their own culture to be modern."
Her voice hardened with resolve:
"We need design machines—smart looms, pattern printers, digital fashion software—that celebrate Indian textiles. And a platform—let it be a 'Mumbai Device' or a web portal—where every artisan from Kashmir to Kanyakumari can show their work to the world."
🧠 Bharat's Inner Reflection: A Child with Future Eyes
In the corner, Bharat's young mind processed every word:
"They're right. The 21st-century film industry is built on tools from Europe and America—high-definition cameras, CGI rigs, studio lighting that makes every frame perfect. Their actresses become icons, influencing styles worldwide. Our own cinema and fashion remain confined by cost and prejudice."
He thought of the glossy magazines and digital billboards he'd glimpsed in another life:
"Girls there show everything for box-office success. They lose dignity for fame. Here, many begin to mimic them, forgetting the pride of a draped saree, the strength of a woven khadi.* But if Chachi's dreams come true—if India can build its own studios and design tech—our culture will speak back to the world."*
He closed his eyes, making a silent vow:
"I will help build those tools. I will make sure their voices and threads are never lost again."
🌿 Vandana's Promise: Messenger of Their Dreams
Vandana placed a hand on each of her sisters-in-law.
"Kavita, Nirmala—you've given this dinner new heart. These ideas will not stay here. I'll tell Ajay, and we'll turn dreams into plans."
She rose, her saree swaying in the lantern glow.
"India has enough creativity, enough dignity, and enough stories. It only needs the tools to share them."
The night held its breath as the family's dreams settled into place—ready to be built, recorded, woven, and shared. And in Bharat's quiet resolve, a new chapter of Indian innovation already began.