As the sun announces its arrival on the skies on the much-awaited ‘Pandrah Agasth’, he steps out of the door to see the street clad in saffron, white, and green. The little ‘Bharat’ badge on the pockets of his children’s school uniforms, bring a smile on his face. He thinks of tying a tricolour to his bicycle himself and roaming along the streets. But just as he picks up a little rope for the purpose, the thought that people, some of his own countrymen, would gossip behind his back that he is trying to ‘show off his fake love for the country’ holds him back for a moment.
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He can’t help it, can he? He keeps coming across the buzz that his people are anti-national and having a soft corner for the neighbouring Pakistan. That’s painful. But that’s what an Indian Muslim is being compelled to do in the present day India – prove his loyalty for the nation, every now and then.
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There was this ‘Chak De India’ film review posted in rediff.com, where a film critic had shared his observations of the final scene depicting Kabir Khan, the protagonist of the film, who helps the Indian hockey team win the world championship, shutting the door. The critic writes “In the public domain, Kabir Khan worships the tricolour, breathes for India. We don't know what he does behind the doors of his home, which he so eloquently shuts on us in the last scene. The message is clear: Whatever I am in my home, when I step out, I do so as a proud Indian”.
The Indian Muslim would feel like asking ‘You mean to say I am a proud Indian just from outside and not from within?’ It is something that hurts him, who is very well aware of the fact that his forefathers had died for the freedom of this country, thousands of them in fact, including the Ulamas. As written in the official records of the Jamiat Ulama-e-Hind, a body that was formed during the British rule in India, “After the defeat of 1857 revolt, Ulama were the main target of the British oppression. Maulvi and rebel had become synonymous in their eyes. Of the 200,000 people martyred during the revolt 51,200 were Ulamas. Edward Timus himself admitted that in Delhi alone 500 Ulamas were hanged”.
The Indian Muslim listens to speeches by various people at various functions organised on I-Day, and senses his blood boil when only Gandhi, Nehru, and a selected few personalities are remembered and the names of the likes of Tipu Sultan, the man who died on the battlefield fighting the British in 1799, far more earlier than the ‘first war of independence’ in 1857, don’t figure in their speeches.
He looks back at his past, forgotten by others, and fast forwards himself to 2010, gaping at his present status. That he and his community continue to be utilized as a vote bank by political parties during elections, and neglected for the rest of the time, add fuel to the existing flame burning within him. He is the first suspect, whenever any bomb blast takes place in any part of the country. He is stared at if found sporting a beard and a cap.
He feels sidelined when anything Vedic qualifies to be called as ‘Indian’ while his contributions to the land go on to be referred as contributions of a kingdom, a person, or a ‘foreign group’.
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But he knows what he is. He knows that he is just as much an inhabitant of the land, as others are. He knows that his heart starts beating hard and lips engage in prayers when he finds Team India up against a tense finish in a cricket match and the way he erupts in joy and high-fives others when his country wins the game. He smiles again, still holding the rope. He ties the tricolour to his bicycle and roams around the streets, not caring what others may feel about it. As he pedals his way across, he sees the fluttering flag, hoping that the situation of his people in the country too would improve, just as the Ashoka Chakra therein, is advancing forward.
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