Those of the family that had shared food with Muslims were forced to leave the village. Heartbreaking as it was, the societal pressure of village elders was the law those days. Thus the proud noble family was split into two, and only the ones who had shared food with the Muslims had to leave the village. They were left with no choice but to become Muslims who accepted them lovingly. Till today this family has blood relatives who are Muslims and half of them are Hindus. It is interesting to see how they still keep up all the family ties, customs and rituals between them, attending marriages, funerals and religious functions.
They still address each other with loving names as Bua, Tai, Chacha, Behen, and Bhaiyya, Apa and Khalsa. No ceremony is complete without inviting each other as family and intermingling as one. Hindu and Muslim, both festivals are celebrated with happiness and love and the exchange of sweets. There is no bitterness. Why can’t the whole of India be Indians? Whence has crept in this hatred for each other? This killing and slaughtering of one’s own makes no sense. Why can’t we learn from this family? This story belongs to the first quarter of the 19th century. It is a true story.
Though even I can remember lovely times when never a thought used to arise of hatred between the different communities. We celebrated Eid, Diwali and Holi with equal joy, treating each other to feasts and celebrations. What has happened to this lovely land’s culture of brotherhood and joyful harmony? We are all Indians and always will be. Why are we told to hate and fear each other? Talk to people individually, they all want love peace and harmonious living. Then who is the Satan here? The vote bank seekers? Isn’t it time one saw through them? This is our India, believe it or not.
Prarthna Saran, President Chinmaya Mission Delhi.
