A MUSLIM SHOPKEEPER, A SISTER’S WEDDING AND A SHATTERED INDIA

A MUSLIM SHOPKEEPER, A SISTER’S WEDDING AND A SHATTERED INDIA

3-AUG-ENG 12

RAJIV NAYAN AGRAWAL

ARA---------------------------Dear Congress, Writing to you is like sitting on the banks of a broken bridge and asking the river - "Do you still know that people used to cross you?" Or like asking an old tree - "Does anyone still sit under you and seek shade?"

I know, you are tired. The heartbeat of the freedom movement is still there somewhere in your veins, but there is a deep tiredness in your eyes these days - as if you have not slept for many years. Or perhaps as if you are tired of staying awake and someone still wants to wake you up, scratching it from those damp walls of history where it is written that Nehru became the Prime Minister at a time when this country was half crying and half dancing.

I do not know what the exact temperature of history was, but I do know that at that time there were wounds and responsibilities. You chose Nehru - and Nehru gave planning to the country, politics. He taught me, gave me the idea of debating in the parliament and made the first citizen of this country understand that his status is not just that of a 'raiyat' but also of an 'opinion'.

I took a sip of tea and my friend - who comes from a small village in Uttar Pradesh - suddenly started saying: "In 2012, for my sister's wedding, lighting came for free from the shop of a Muslim uncle next to my village. He bore more than half of the wedding expenses himself. Religion was not considered at that time. But today when I go to his shop, he looks at me as if I am not a Hindu but BJP. As if there is an invisible tricolor stuck on my back in which saffron poison is mixed."

I did not interrupt him. Because I knew that he was not lying.

Is this the India on which you dreamt, Congress? There was a time when Hindus and Muslims used to sit together in your meetings, and cry while listening to your speeches. When 'Inquilab' and 'Ittehad' both resonated like a single slogan. When a shopkeeper used to help a girl in her marriage without asking and did it by looking at the person, not the religion.

But today, today times have changed. Now before visiting a person's shop, his beard is checked. Now before helping, WhatsApp is checked to see "Is he involved in love jihad?" Now 'Jai Shri Ram' is not on the road, but has become a sword in the hands of the infantry of politics.

I do not say that BJP did all the bad things. But why should I be ashamed to say now that they sowed hatred, and you too added the fertilizer of silence for a long time. There was a time when you used to call us Not ‘voters’, but ‘thoughts’. Today’s government has made us only Hindus and Muslims, and we have accepted it smilingly – like a black mark has been put on a child’s forehead so that he is not affected by evil eyes, but the whole family now considers that mark as their identity.

Congress, you are still alive. But are you alive only in the election field or are you also alive in the shops of the neighbourhood, in the weddings of girls and in the sips of tea? Because my friend asks this question today – “Did the heart of that Muslim shopkeeper who helped in my sister’s marriage change because of BJP or our silence?” And I am silent. Because I also don’t know who laid the first brick of hatred – BJP, or our silence.

Nehru had said – “We will make India a secular nation, where every religion will have equal rights.” Today that promise is a poster hanging on a wall, whose ink has faded in the sun. Congress, I have many questions from you, but I also have a hope Yes. If there is still some Gandhi, some Nehru, some Azad, some Bhikaji Cama in your veins, then rise up. This country still has hope from you. History is not written in books, but in village shops. And my friend's sister's wedding - still tells us that this country is run by love, not by hatred.