Closing the gap in ‘Mini India’

Simran Sidhu

Watching the ongoing debate on television over the Ayodhya issue took me back to my university days, wherein my class comprised of students from various cultures and states. And it was in the first few days of the session itself when I was introduced to some of my highly polarised classmates. I remember the first sentence that I had heard from one of them: ‘If you won’t give us a bunk before our Id festival, we won’t give you a bunk on your Diwali.’

I, belonging to a culture of neither of the majority warring sects, sat with my mouth agape, as the two sides continued to argue and raise their voices over their respective festivals that were still months away. They seemed to have long forgotten that the word ‘secular’ was enshrined in the preamble to our Constitution. I wanted to remind them that and much more, yet they weren’t even ready to say a simple ‘hello’ to each other, let alone understand and respect their differences. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was not a citizen of secular India.

Although no one would speak openly about their religions in the class, every action of theirs centred on their religion. Friends were chosen based on religion. Even classroom seats were chosen based on religion. The class WhatsApp group would always end in religious quarrels. The election of the class representative, too, turned out to be a religious affair. The debate about vegetarian and non-vegetarian diet continued to dominate the talks. While one sect would be feasting, the other would be fasting and vice versa. I, the silent spectator of their cold war, thought they were like the two banks of a river that could never meet.

I had given up all hope of the betterment in their relations, when one day I spotted the two orthodox warring leaders walking side by side, talking to each other and smiling, too. Looking at them, I felt as if a miracle was at work. It was the first glimmer of hope. Maybe time was playing its role well. Slowly and quietly, the religious dust began to settle. I would spot signs that would signal of sure improvement. It seemed as if hatred itself was leading to love. Differences led to finding similarities. Soon, the class WhatsApp group was overflowing with greeting messages wishing each other on their own festivals. The rigid ethnic and cultural boundaries melted away. And finally one day, we happily renamed our group ‘Mini India’.

Time obscures all differences. It surely took us time to realise that we are all so different, yet the same, but it wasn’t impossible to arrive at this simple realisation. And if we, a bunch of warring students, could realise it so soon, so can the whole of India, someday. Amen!