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The way we were
Recalling an
age of non-discrimination
Rahul Bose
Actor
Nasir Khan. Cyrus Taraporevala. Vinay Dube. Cyrus Mehta. Rahul Bose.
Our names sound like an advertisement for communal harmony. Except, we had
no clue then what communal harmony was. Five boys – one Muslim, two Parsis,
a Brahmin from UP and a Bengali-Punjabi-Maharashtrian mongrel. Studying in
a Protestant school, most terrified of (and later most adoring of) our
Jewish math teacher, Ms Hallegua, best friends with our PE instructor, Mr
Nepali (no prizes for guessing where he hailed from), always looking to
our Sikhni class teacher, Mrs Kocchar, for advice. And never ever being
aware of any differences between us.
Every festival was looked forward to. Not because we were interested in
visiting the fire temple on Pateti or dancing down to the beach to immerse
the Ganpati but simply because a festival meant a spectacular feast in
that friend’s house. Food defined any religious differences we had and
dissolved any feeling of apartness we may ever have felt. How can it ever
cross a college kid’s mind to think of a Muslim as anything but
phenomenally lucky to live in a world of shami kebabs and
sevai? (I remember asking my parents why couldn’t we have been Parsis
so we could eat lacy cutlets and prawn patia as a matter of
routine. My mother gave me one of her killer looks and asked me to finish
my karela!)
Outside of school, life was as cosmopolitan as it was within it. The
Ganesh holidays were spent in Kolhapur with every ritual associated with
the festival being observed. Bringing the idol home, jai mangal murti
in the temple room, the immersion in the river and modaks! A
mountain of modaks! I loved this festival.
Durga Puja holidays and we descended on our Dida and pishimas
in Calcutta. I will never forget the open air theatrical performances, the
pandals with their surreal thematic Durgas, every street blaring
Bengali music and… the mishti. The mishti made me certain
Durga was the ultimate god because anyone who could inspire her followers
to build floral bouquets made of roshogolla and pantua, and
jet airplanes made of kala jamun and shondesh was a God!
And then there was the summer vacation in Kasauli, India’s most
unspoilt hill station in the upper reaches of Himachal. (How and why
Kasauli? Without going into the complexities of my pan-Indian lineage, it
is enough to say that Kasauli was the summer home of my Punjabi
grand-parentage.) Our next-door neighbours were a Sikh family, the Kangs.
The sons, Harjot and Prabhjot’s ages matched my sister’s and mine, so
together we scoured every hillside in the cantonment over the next seven
years. Mrs Kang was deeply religious and a fantastic cook. Almost every
day I would walk into their kitchen for a breakfast of tarbooz
(watermelon) and alu de pronthe. There were kirtan sessions twice a
week, which my entire family would attend. And afternoons spent eating
apples off the branches in Mr Kang’s orchard. I learnt of the five K’s (kesh,
kanga, kada, kirpan and kaccha) even before I
learnt how to play rugby.
And then India changed forever. And Bombay changed forever. The 1992
riots. The ascension of Hindu fundamentalism to the Mantralaya. The
changing of the city’s name without any referendum. The rise of Muslims in
the underworld. The pro and anti-reservation stirs. Government fascism
against slum dwellers, bar dancers, lovers on Marine Drive. And now
panic-stoked reaction to pent-up, justifiable Dalit anger. The city has
changed forever. People continue to take the sharp end of a knife, a lathi,
a bullock cart prod and rake lines across the city. Lines that now mark
the palms of every young person in the metropolis.
Don’t believe me? Go into colleges and ask the upper castes what they
feel about reservations. Go into colleges and ask poor students if they
feel on par with their wealthier counterparts. Go into colleges and ask
what Muslim students have to face every time news appears of a Muslim
terrorist.
The ethos of non-discrimination I grew up in is dead. And no, please
don’t tell me this is evolution, progress. Please don’t tell me this is
part of the fascinating process of social change. This is unnecessary
destructive indoctrination of a culture that has no upside. A culture that
goes against the only lessons a boy or girl in college should be taught.
That progress should be a chance given to everyone, tolerance a human
quality that should be shown to everyone, that the quality of the heart
and head are the only yardsticks by which to judge anyone.
(Rahul Bose has recently set up a non-governmental organisation called
The Foundation,
to address various social issues. The foundation, in collaboration with
Communalism Combat,
also aims to mobilise youth and professionals towards non-discrimination.)
‘We need to stand up for what we believe’
Chaitanya Sinh
Corporate consultant
I was at an old school friend’s house the other day when
his five-year-old daughter, who was watching television, ran up and asked
him, "What is a Dalit?" My friend, who is an MBA from an Ivy League
college but also cocooned as far as caste distinctions go, mumbled
something inadequate about "untouchables" and backward class
discrimination. His daughter look puzzled and retorted, "So are they OBCs?"
The reason I have reconstructed part of their conversation
is to highlight two very amazing, contradictory and disturbing points:
1) The youth of today are extremely conscious of societal
distinctions.
2) The children of Generation X and previous are seemingly
not so.
This incident got me wondering why the people who grew up
without any distinction or discrimination have children who seem to be
overtly aware of their social strata. Is it the fanaticism? Is it the
political bartering? Is it the erasure of tolerance and acceptance? Is it
the psychosis of fear? Is it the media?
I remember when I was in school it was all a seamless
transition from singing hymns in the morning assembly to learning yoga
(pretending to fall asleep actually) in the "Activities" class. Our
teachers and friends were of all colours and nationalities but what really
mattered to us was how much fun we could have and to what extent we could
disrupt class. Teachers were classified as scary (don’t mess with), firm
(no nonsense but likeable) and easy (get away with anything). Our friends
were ruthlessly organised as studious, sporty, troublemaker, bully, weirdo
or arty. There was never any mention of colour, caste or religion – we
just did not think like that.
When my sister and I were kids, we were encouraged to
celebrate all festivals including Diwali, Holi, Christmas, Parsi New Year
and Id. Each festival was eagerly awaited and was usually spent either
with family or with friends/neighbours. I fondly remember going for
Christmas mass with my nanny to the neighbourhood church, going to the
Mahim dargah with Mariam Aunty (my mum’s best friend) to feed the poor (zakat)
during Ramzan and spending a lazy afternoon at my Parsi friends’ house
eating dhansak and drinking beer. I cherish all these memories
because they were spent with loved ones who made us feel a part of them
without any reservation. I especially value those times now, as it seemed
then that religion was a personal relationship with god (whichever god it
might have been) rather than a tool for political bartering.
It seems now that times have changed. There is fear and
mistrust in our minds. There is a hesitancy to allow people to get close
to us. There is reluctance to get close to others. The blame game is
running us round and round in circles. Hate has been bottled and
distributed indiscriminately rather than soothed and put to rest with
compassion. The tear in society has ripped families apart and built walls
between friends… And our only solution seems to be self-preservation
through insulation.
Whilst all this is happening, our children and youth are
most affected. Our fears and insecurities spread like a deadly virus in
their little minds and foster the birth of generational prejudices. And I
am now extremely worried.
I am most scared because I have a beautiful baby daughter
who has just turned four months old. She has become my most recent
obsession. I look at her and wish that she is blessed with health, wealth
and happiness, and spared from biases and discriminations. I pray that she
grows up to become a strong, independent, freethinking, bold and
compassionate human being who is able to give as freely as she is able to
receive. I hope that she will be accepted as a person, struggling to find
her own balance and peace, rather than a woman or a Hindu or any other
constricting classification. I want for her not to be judged by her
ancestry but rather by her deeds. Most of all I wish for her to be given
the freedom of choice to evolve, love and share in the wonderful journey
we call life.
I believe that we all need to play our role in rebuilding
broken bridges, to consciously erase hostilities, to forgive ourselves and
others for our shortcomings and to hope for a future that can once again
be safe and unified for our children. We need to stand up for what we
believe. We need to protect the weak and oppressed. We need to stand with
our arms and hearts open so that love can once again flow freely. Most of
all we need to be accountable to ourselves and our conscience so that the
seeds we now sow can be reaped by our children. We now need to look to the
future rather than dwell on the past.
‘It is important to get the core teachings of values and morals
back into the mainstream’
Ayesha C. Guzder
Lawyer
Times change and people change. But basic values and
morals never change. I grew up in an atmosphere of equality, fair play and
non-discrimination that was continually reinforced by support systems
around me in my daily life, such as my family, my teachers at school and
my friends.
I was lucky to be enrolled for the greater part of my
childhood and teenage years at the Cathedral and John Connon School in
Mumbai, where I was surrounded by friends, peers and teachers of all
religious denominations but I was never aware of their religious, class or
caste differences. Even though the school is a Christian school and some
of the lessons we took were entitled "Scripture & Moral Sciences", we were
always taught the moral values behind each story and it was never viewed
as a religious discourse or religious conversion or preaching. I realise
that during my time at school I was able to participate in and celebrate
many religious festivals whilst at the same time maintaining my own
religious identity. Our annual Founder’s Day service is another example
that illustrates how we all participated in the prayers and service for
the betterment of the community. Even though it was a strict Catholic
ceremony we were all able to partake in it without feeling that our
identity was being compromised. My formative learning years were therefore
in a secular environment where there was no allusion to discrimination
with regard to religion, caste or class and no reference made to religious
and caste differences. Even today I celebrate Diwali every year, and Id,
and enjoy participating in these festivities. After all, one is born into
a religion, one cannot choose which religion to belong to – and once this
fundamental fact is accepted it is easier to accept and appreciate all
faiths.
Unfortunately, this atmosphere of relative peace, security
and tranquillity is a far cry from today’s environment of religious
intolerance and hatred, with discrimination on the basis of religion and
communal divisions actually forming the social and political backdrop of
India, which is fired with sentiments of intolerance, segregation,
political and social discontent and most importantly, a degradation of
moral and social values.
It distresses me to talk of India’s current social and
political climate in this manner. Unfortunately, there has also been a
global change in the way people now think and react to communal and
religious differences, in a manner that is almost barbaric and deeply
shameful. The clubbing together of people as one group based on religion,
then assuming that they all share the same values as certain so-called
leaders of their respective communities, shows a deep ignorance of the
feelings and beliefs of the masses. Although this attitude was seen
predominantly in the western world over the past five years, brought on
largely by the events of 9/11 and the subsequent wars in Afghanistan, Iraq
and the ongoing "war on terror", it has taught some of us one thing – to
try and understand, respect and appreciate people of different faiths,
castes, classes and religions.
The urge to react violently rather than ponder why people
choose to act in a certain manner displays a fatal flaw in the way many
Indians still deal with communal, religious and other such sensitive
issues. As a free, liberal and vibrant democracy we must try our best to
eradicate tensions on communal, religious, caste or ethnic lines.
Deep-rooted prejudices, stigmas and ignorance must be replaced with
understanding, education and learning. It is up to educated people and
leading corporate houses of India to set an example for change. Change
must be sought and implemented at the grass roots level first and then
wind its way up the social ladder. The media, and especially a free press,
are key to managing social and political discontent, and also in helping
bridge communal and religious divides. The first step is awareness –
people at all social levels in India must be made aware of the negatives
of segregation, religious disharmony and violent action.
India is still at a nascent stage of its democracy where,
a mere 59 years on from independence, the scars of partition and religious
divides still linger deep and occasionally flare to the surface. A great
flaw in our democratic system, one that has decades to go before achieving
even a degree of maturity, is the Indian judicial system. Our Indian
justice system is fundamentally flawed at all levels with corruption,
bribery and, above all, delays translating into an unjust verdict. The sad
part is that it is the masses of India who suffer because of this loss of
justice, people who have no money and against whom terrible atrocities
have been committed in the name of religion, class, caste and creed. It is
they who have no recourse to the law, no hope for justice being done in
their lifetimes and moreover, no way to live with dignity and self-respect
in a society that is still ingrained with religious and communal
intolerance.
An example of this are the Muslim families in Gujarat
against whom the most vile, heinous and shameful acts were committed in
the 2003 riots and who are still in the process of seeking justice while
the accused – members of the administration, police and even the cabinet
and others – bask in freedom. Another example is a Dalit family of four in
Maharasthra, of whom three members were brutally murdered, two were raped,
whose case the police initially refused to even note down and act upon
because it was a low caste murder and was hushed up because, of course,
everyone had better things to do than be bothered with the issue of a low
caste murder. Justice should be a fundamental right of any Indian born in
this land – unfortunately, these days it isn’t a birthright, it is a
struggle and a fight. A fight for justice and progress. A fight against
stigma, prejudices, injustice and discrimination, a fight against those
who can afford to pay huge sums of money to escape the system.
As a young Indian born post-independence, I believe that
for India to truly shine and become a progressive and competitive global
player in the world we need to sit back a moment and reflect, we need to
go back to the past, back to the times of our childhood, where we were
aware of our religion, class, money and caste but where people made a
greater effort to obey the rules of right and wrong and where, most
importantly, people didn’t flout the basic values and morality that were a
part of them. It is important to get these core teachings of values and
morals back into the mainstream. Communal tensions, riots on caste bases,
violence against members of a democratic society, must be overcome and
made to fade into the background. Religion and religious differences will
always exist but they should not be at the centre of our existence. It is
only in an atmosphere of secularism, equality, and tolerance that we can
advance to being a truly enlightened and democratic nation and people.
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