It was like all evenings in Bangalore when I thought of going to the parlour for a threading. You see, I had missed it last month. And felt that aaj nahi tho agle mahine and till then I would be looking like Krur Singh of Chandrakanta mega serial and so set on this journey taking along my daughter Srujana who was all the while glued to the Idiot Box watching Chota Bheem.
As we were walking along, I holding her nimble fingers tightly clasped in my palm, we heard the evening prayers Salatu-l-Isha of Muslims. An expected small query came pouting up. “Amma, who is praying?” I told her as we all pray God in a Puja room or temples, Muslims pray in mosques. I felt very much happy that I had answered her query in the simplest way she could comprehend. Rather, the “I” in me reigned arrogantly.
No sooner had I answered it, it was followed by another query. “Amma, where are Muslims?” Now, this seemed a bit awkward question, especially when we were walking along the street. The “I” in me had again started feigning its hood. I replied, “As we live, they live by us, as our neighbours”. Felt great for being a good English and Social Studies Teacher.
My turn of introspection was slowly turning on when she hit the final target asking, “Amma, who are Muslims?” Now, how would I answer this? How do I tell the characteristic features of a Hindu and a Muslim or whatsoever community she was asking. Would she understand? How would a five year old understand? I felt, the age factor and my explanation would be a mismatch. Or, would it be followed by another query and another query?
While I was in a fix, I recalled that some years back she had studied in a Pre- Nursery school, and I replied, “ Srujana, chinna, do you remember you had a class teacher by name Ghazala mam, well she is a Muslim”. For that instance, I felt that distinguishing mark or a change or pattern in name would help her to at least figure out faintly. But what astounded me most was her reply.
“Amma, she is not a Muslim. She is my mam”. The conviction and truth in her voice shook me. I felt really ashamed of self. The child as a human and Indian in her had spoken the unconquerable truth that we are all ONE. And my definition of defining my neighbours was all but hollow. We need to permanently park our egos, self esteem packages and cover it up with more practical truths.
We, as elders always draw LOC between us and amongst us. It was what my daughter made me realize a “Spiritual Landscaping” where I needed to water my beliefs in being a human was much more important and vital rather than defining them in words or History text books or in the cases of Ram Janma Bhoomi issue. Enveloping all this, I would like to say is, all we need is to till our hearts with more of priming, pulling, and pushing worth the belief that we will be the best as HUMANS rather than Hindus or Muslims.
A sideway glance at life is always important, because we truly need the exercise to absorb the lesson life attempts to show us.
What do you say and feel?
