Monday, 2 March 2020

Harmonious Living and the Communal Divide by



Harmonious Living and the Communal Divide: Some Reflections

Nibir K. Ghosh

“I know nothing of this silence except that it lies outside the reach of my intelligence, beyond words -- that is why this silence must win, must inevitably defeat me, because it is not a presence at all.” ― Amitav Ghosh, The Shadow Lines

As an avid reader of Partition Narratives, I have often wondered why homo sapiens have, despite unprecedented enlightenment down the centuries, refused to yield to the voice of conscience and rationality in times of crisis and calamity. Innumerable stories of Partition, that I have been reading and re-reading for ages now, have always brought to the fore how an individual heart and soul that craves naturally for harmony and peace within and calm around falls an easy prey to the collective frenzy of violence, brutality, bestiality and inhumanness stirred by communal, caste or religious divide. Among the ravenous clouds of mass hysteria, hatred and violence as reflected in the stories by Manto, Rajinder Singh Bedi, Khushwant Singh, Chaman Nahal, Amitav Ghosh, Kamleshwar, Khwaja Ahmad Abbas, Kamladevi Chattopadhyay etc. there do appear at times the silver lining of hope in universal brotherhood that give indications of the prevalence of better sense where individual relationships triumph over communal violence and hatred. However, such rare islands of hope often tend to get submerged in the huge sea of despair springing from fear, anxiety, disbelief and the like.

So, rather than discuss any of the available partition narratives, I would rather share with friends my own little experiences that sprang from my innate belief in the essential goodness of individuals no matter how adverse the nature of calamity.

As I hear friends talking about their creative/critical response to various narratives that tore asunder friends, lovers and families and displaced millions from their respective beloved land 73 years ago, my mind travels down memory lane to the morning of December 6, 1992. I woke up early on the said date as my research scholar and friend Abdur Rub Khaleel was arriving in Agra by A.P. Express. Abdur Khaleel, based in Hyderabad, had become a close friend during my frequent visits to the American Studies Research Centre, Hyderabad. When he expressed his desire to work for his Ph.D. under my supervision at Agra College, I just couldn’t say “no’. He was coming to Agra to complete his work and submit his thesis. I received him at the Agra Cantt station and brought him to a hotel located very close to my home where arrangements for his stay had been made. After having breakfast with him, I left for my home telling him that I would be meeting him in the evening to discuss his dissertation on W.H. Auden.
As I was returning from Sadar Bazar on that fateful afternoon, I could sense the atmosphere around was quite tense like the silence before a storm. I could see people talking anxiously in hushed tones in groups while some shopkeepers were hurriedly pulling the shutters down. I wondered what had happened. I stopped for a while and asked a few pedestrians what was it all about. I was told that the Babri Masjid at Ayodhya had been demolished. It took me a second to realise what all this could lead to. I quickly reached the hotel where Khaleel was putting up. By then the news had spread like wildfire. Khaleel seemed anxious and asked whether he should leave immediately for Hyderabad. I told him not to worry at all. Agra was the city of Sulahakul I reminded him.

For a few moments I did feel ill at ease apprehending the uncertainty of the kind of backlash such incidents were likely to provoke. My gut feeling told me that since Khaleel was here to meet me the responsibility for his safety and wellbeing lay on my shoulders. Consequently, unmindful of all the rumours around, we began talking about Auden. As a precautionary measure curfew was clamped in many parts of the city. For the next 10 days we remained together till his work was complete. On the eleventh day he submitted his Ph.D. thesis and left for Hyderabad. While most of the country was burning during those 10 days, we didn’t allow the animosity of communal clashes come between us. In due course Khaleel received his Ph.D. degree from Agra University that remains a testimony to the fact that the bonds of friendship proved stronger than the frenzied enmity of adversaries.

I must share another experience related to what one may see as a deep bond of Hindu-Muslim friendship that began simply with an email. During 2003-04 we (my wife Sunita and I) visited USA on the internationally prestigious Senior Fulbright Fellowship to work at the University of Washington, Seattle. Nearly two years after our return to India, I was pleasantly surprised to receive an email dated 23rd September 2006, from one Dr. Zeeshan-ul-hassan Usmani (a Pakistani Computer Engineer and Fulbright Scholar at Princeton) requesting me for an essay on my Fulbright experience for a book that he wished to bring out on Fulbright scholars. I sent him my essay “From the City of the Taj to Bill Gates Town.” In less than a week’s time I received his response dated 26 October 2006 thus:

“Thank you for your wonderful essay. Overall, I am impressed with your achievements and writing style and would like to invite you as a co-editor for this book. We have been searching for a co-editor for a while and it seems you will be the best choice.

Let me know if you agree and have time to work on this wonderful volume of Fulbright essays and I will walk you through the details. I look forward to hearing back from you soon. Please also send me your tel. no and best time to reach you.”

I wrote back saying I was submerged with a lot of work and that it would not be possible for me to accept his invitation for the editorial collaboration on the said project.

Lo and behold, the very next morning I received a telephone call from Zeeshan reiterating his request. I again expressed my inability. The next statement that he made changed my resolve. He said, “I want to tell you that my mother hails from Agra. Can’t we join our hands in friendship?” In view of his statement I immediately agreed to accept the collaborative responsibility. The book titled Beyond Boundaries: Reflections of Indian and U.S. Scholars jointly edited by Zeeshan and me and published by iUniverse, New York was officially launched at the U.S. Embassy, New Delhi in 2007. When I was asked to make a brief speech at the august ceremony, I humbly said:

The editorial collaboration in this volume has its own story to tell. It is providential that two Fulbrighters hailing from two different nations that are at perpetual loggerhead with each other should work in perfect harmony to bring together 60 other scholars to spread the message of life and hope. I call it providential because the two of us have never met and our acquaintance began with an email and our friendship grew with this project. If understanding, affection and mutual admiration can unite two individuals from India and Pakistan and make them oblivious of the cloud of suspicion that hangs over the relationship of these two nations ever since the historic divide of 1947, there is plenty of room to hope that such small steps will create new pathways for a beautiful world without boundaries. 

Narratives like the above, that recount such actual experiences of living in harmony, rarely find space in historical accounts or government reports. They are often dismissed as idiosyncrasies of individuals lacking the missionary zeal of true patriots and jihadis.

I have not shared these experiences here to prove any point or set a precedent but simply to reassure myself that there is always hope for a future filled with love and friendship no matter how difficult the calling.

I dedicate these personal ruminations to the memory of all those who recently lost their lives in Delhi in their bid to come to terms with the gruesome reality of the communal divide. May their soul rest in eternal peace in a realm that defies lines and boundaries.















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