“Sar Zamin-e-hind par aqwaam-e-alam ke firaq
kafile guzarte gae Hindustan banta gaya”
(“In the land of Hind, the Caravans of the people of
the world kept coming in and India kept getting formed”)
- Firaq Gorakhpuri
Despite the tremendous strides we have achieved as a nation and
society,
the ill feelings between ourselves owing to our religious differences
have not totally vanished. They sometimes appear to be consciously
watered. Hatred being fed into young minds on various pretexts. The
growing religious extremism haunts
us mainly at two levels, as I perceive it. One, at the mass level -
leading to various communal clashes. Two, at the intellectual level -
leading to gross misconceptions about our religions and the true ideals
they preach.
Though we claim to be highly educated, a large chunk of the educated
class is yet to shun of its preoccupations on religious misconceptions.
The never ending suspicion about the guy who wears an orthodox dress,
lack of respect to a teacher whose accent supposedly reveals his
religion, the foolish assumption that bearded guys are either of a
particular religion or are a depressed lot. (God! How frequent a victim I
have been to this assumption, all thanks to the beard I sport, well
complemented by a supposedly dumb face!) Why, why these baseless set of
reasoning? Why these shameless set of attitudes? Why this kolaveri di?
As I shuffled through the pages of The Hindu (Apr 10, 2012), a
newspaper which has become much more than a part of my life, I came
across this very interesting letter from a reader. The letter is the
precise piece which triggered this blog post.(I have taken the liberty
to publish the letter on this blog, copying as it is from the official
website of The Hindu here:
http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/letters/article3297788.ece).
Brilliant
In his brilliant article “A Sufi message from a Pakistani President” in the OpEd page of
The Hindu
(April 9), Saeed Naqvi mentions that Hasrat Mohani “… fancied that God
had sent prophets to every country and the one he sent to India was Lord
Krishna!” Nawab Akbar Yar Jung was a Judge of the Hyderabad High Court
in the Nizam's Government. On August 11,1936, he addressed a meeting on
the occasion of the Krishna Janmashtami in which he quoted the Holy
Quran, 49:78, “We sent Apostles before Thee: there are some of them that
We have mentioned to thee and others we have not mentioned.”
“The
Hindus; they accept Ramachandra and Shri Krishna as their religious
leaders. We must therefore unhesitatingly accept them as prophets. I
belong to a much hated sect of people who already hold this view. I do
not hesitate to accept Shri Krishna (upon him be peace) as a prophet.”
That
reads as Krishna Alehsalam — a honorific not lightly used; Jesus is —
Isa Alehsalam. There was a protest in Hyderabad against this speech and
the Nizam reprimanded Bahadur Yar Jung. But no adverse action followed.
That shows the catholicity of that government, chiefly due then to Sir
Akbar Hydari, a Bohra.
I think Nawab Akbar Yar Jung
was an Ahmediya. He was the father of my dear friend and classmate Prof.
Rasheedudeen Khan. When as a teenager, I spent my holidays with them,
Nawab Sahib used to say to me,
“Mian, Main Krishna Janmbhoomi ka hoon. Yeh log nahin samjenge!”
Rasheed's mother was a Hyderabadi! Sir Mohammed Iqbal called Rama,
Imam-i-Hind. Nawab sahib was calling Krishna a prophet, alehsalam. For
those who understand these niceties, there is a lot of difference.
B.P.R. Vithal,
Hyderabad
How
beautiful! People of tolerance and
acceptance are those who add to the faith and hope that one day all of
us shall
no more derive our identity based on the religions into which we were
born but we shall take pride of the truly secular society in which we
live. Everyday all around us are such souls of compassion and humanism.
The ordinary men and women we encounter everyday and who make our every
moment's peaceful co-existence a reality are actually extraordinary.
Despite the lot of difference in their beliefs and culture it is the
strength of this diversity that has kept the subcontinent alive and
colourful. A responsibility each of us has to shoulder is to better it.
Not long back, during the days of the controversy regarding the
inclusion of A K Ramanujan's essay of 'Three hundred Ramayanas' in Delhi
University course, I read an interesting anecdote in a magazine. An
ex-judge of the Tamil Nadu High court, I don't remember his name
exactly, probably Justice Hidayatullah was during his time considered
the foremost authority on the Tamil epic Kamba Ramayana. Interests and
curiosities know no barrier of religion and geographic boundaries, then
why enforce them on the beautiful lives of posterity?
As I read through the letter, I was reminded of these immortal lines, penned by the inimitable Sahir Ludhianvi -
तू हिन्दू बनेगा ना मुसलमान बनेगा
इंसान की औलाद है, इंसान बनेगा ।
....
नफरत जो सिखाये, वो धरम तेरा नहीं है।
इन्साफ जो रोंदे, वो कदम तेरा नहीं हैं।
कुर'आन ना हो जिसमे वो मंदिर नहीं तेरा,
गीता ना हो जिसमे वो हरम तेरा नहीं है ।
तू अमन का और सुलह का अरमान बनेगा।
इंसान की औलाद है, इंसान बनेगा ।
....
(Neither a Hindu nor a Muslim shall you become.
A human progeny are you. A human shall you become
......
Which preaches hatred, that religion is not yours.
Which tramples justice, that footstep is not yours.
Where is no Qur'aan, that temple is not yours.
Where is no Geeta, that Mosque is not yours.
An apostle of peace and harmony shall you become.
A human progeny are you. A human shall you become
......)
The letter also took me down the memory lane. As a middle school kid, I
was lucky to be taught Hindi and History(Social Science actually) by
two Muslim teachers. I still remember how balanced the History sir would
handle the subject of Muslim invasion into India and the growth of
Hindu kingdoms down South. Though the delicacy of the issue was beyond
my perception back then, I marvel at the ability of such teachers who
assure objectivity and avoid flawed extremism from being sowed into
tender minds. Both of them loved to play Cricket and we children got to
play with them a few afternoons during the recess. Though I frequently
dropped catches, I picked up the beauty of Urdu as a language. I do owe
my present craze for Ghalib's poetry to those gentlemen.
A few months ago, an elderly Muslim friend invited me to his new
textile shop inauguration ceremony. Though I prefer to avoid ceremonial
events, I chose to attend this one. He was indeed a very long
acquaintance and there was no dearth of feel good moments despite
decades of age difference between us. Unaccustomed with their tradition,
I went to the venue well in time for the occasion. I wore a shirt and
trouser unlike everyone else who were dressed in ceremonial kurtas, with the white topi
adorning their heads. It was apparent that I had walked in too early
and was obviously the odd one out. Minutes later the auspicious
rendering of prayer was supposed to begin. It was a very small shop,
hardly accommodating fifteen of us. The Maulvi looked at the
owner, my friend and maybe his eyes questioned my presence. As I stood
up to walk out, the gentleman - my friend held me and asked me to sit
by his side in the very forefront. He told the Maulvi - "Apna hi ladka hai".
The next fifteen minutes I sat through a blissful rendition of prayer,
much of which I did not understand, but did get the feel of 'ameen'.
Yes, for those who understand these niceties, there is a lot of difference.
