In this country of imposed Hinduism, I was fiercely in love with a Muslim.
I have got nothing against Hinduism. I have got nothing against religion.
I have, however got everything against the vandalism circling it.
I had just joined a course where I chanced upon this guy. A muslim, an announced anti-nationalist who'd been through prison only because he refused to stand up for national anthem in a movie theatre; because patriotism is real, only when it is shoved down your throat.
A muslim, I didn’t realise when I fell in love with.
A human, who the world doesn’t realise the Muslims to be.
We were in our own world, a room in Santiniketan, a roof with windows on all sides when it rained.
I was trying to stare at the rainclouds when he brushed my hair off my face and said, ' You know what our love is like?'
I said, 'Rain?'
He smiled, 'No. Petrichor. Rain is usual. Petrichor is the smell that the soil gives out as a thank you for saving it from breaking down. Rain saves the soil. Petrichor is the announcement.’
I smiled.
He murmured randomly, 'Can we name our daughter, Petrichor?'
I sat, jumped up on the bed,' Are you thinking of..?'
He cut me short, 'A future? Yes. So?'
And I remember I broke down. I cried and told him, 'We can't. Maybe in a parallel universe where there is no religion, where there is no riot when a Hindu and a Muslim marries, there we will have a petrichor and let her thrive.’
He didn’t say anything. He held me and kept staring at the rain.
________________________________
I had just joined as an intern in a company, a friend of mine worked there. We had been friends for a long time and she knew of my lover; she knew all the insecurities I was trespassing on to be in love.
It was my first day in that office. She took me out with her colleagues to a coffee shop, and dare me call that a mental abuse, made me say the name of my lover, and repeat his surname like thrice, so she can ridicule me infront of her colleagues; people I was meeting for the first time in my life.
This same friend, called me on my birthday, and even before wishing me, asked, 'Is your lover with you? Will your father get a heart attack when he comes to know of him?'
Now I don’t know if I am patient or self demeaning, I still didn’t cut her off from life, only before a month.
______________________________
I still remember the first night I stayed at my lover's place. We were sloshed, very close and I remember he pressed my face into his chest and cried.
When I asked, he said, 'Why did you have to be from another religion? Why can’t we be together?'
I don’t remember what I said, only that I pressed my face deeper into his chest and cried.
______________________________
I had a classmate, the kind of guy who’d say I'm sinful if I had pork, who'd say I'm going to go hell, if I fancied having beef.
That same classmate, I hated with all my might, not for being ridiculously religious, but for priding upon his pea-sized mentality; he told me once I'll die painfully if I am in love with a Muslim, being a Hindu.
When I asked him to give me a elaborate explanation on his stupidity, he couldn’t.
Mind you, he holds a Masters degree from the same Central University I studied in.
Guess you can’t judge education in degrees or universities.
_____________________________
In this country of failed Hindus who preach of the religion and don’t even understand any bit of its meaning, I was fiercely in love with a Muslim.
I have got nothing against Hinduism. I have got nothing against religion.
I have, however got everything against the vandalism circling it.
I had just joined a course where I chanced upon this guy. A muslim, an announced anti-nationalist who'd been through prison only because he refused to stand up for national anthem in a movie theatre; because patriotism is real, only when it is shoved down your throat.
A muslim, I didn’t realise when I fell in love with.
A human, who the world doesn’t realise the Muslims to be.
We were in our own world, a room in Santiniketan, a roof with windows on all sides when it rained.
I was trying to stare at the rainclouds when he brushed my hair off my face and said, ' You know what our love is like?'
I said, 'Rain?'
He smiled, 'No. Petrichor. Rain is usual. Petrichor is the smell that the soil gives out as a thank you for saving it from breaking down. Rain saves the soil. Petrichor is the announcement.’
I smiled.
He murmured randomly, 'Can we name our daughter, Petrichor?'
I sat, jumped up on the bed,' Are you thinking of..?'
He cut me short, 'A future? Yes. So?'
And I remember I broke down. I cried and told him, 'We can't. Maybe in a parallel universe where there is no religion, where there is no riot when a Hindu and a Muslim marries, there we will have a petrichor and let her thrive.’
He didn’t say anything. He held me and kept staring at the rain.
________________________________
I had just joined as an intern in a company, a friend of mine worked there. We had been friends for a long time and she knew of my lover; she knew all the insecurities I was trespassing on to be in love.
It was my first day in that office. She took me out with her colleagues to a coffee shop, and dare me call that a mental abuse, made me say the name of my lover, and repeat his surname like thrice, so she can ridicule me infront of her colleagues; people I was meeting for the first time in my life.
This same friend, called me on my birthday, and even before wishing me, asked, 'Is your lover with you? Will your father get a heart attack when he comes to know of him?'
Now I don’t know if I am patient or self demeaning, I still didn’t cut her off from life, only before a month.
______________________________
I still remember the first night I stayed at my lover's place. We were sloshed, very close and I remember he pressed my face into his chest and cried.
When I asked, he said, 'Why did you have to be from another religion? Why can’t we be together?'
I don’t remember what I said, only that I pressed my face deeper into his chest and cried.
______________________________
I had a classmate, the kind of guy who’d say I'm sinful if I had pork, who'd say I'm going to go hell, if I fancied having beef.
That same classmate, I hated with all my might, not for being ridiculously religious, but for priding upon his pea-sized mentality; he told me once I'll die painfully if I am in love with a Muslim, being a Hindu.
When I asked him to give me a elaborate explanation on his stupidity, he couldn’t.
Mind you, he holds a Masters degree from the same Central University I studied in.
Guess you can’t judge education in degrees or universities.
_____________________________
In this country of failed Hindus who preach of the religion and don’t even understand any bit of its meaning, I was fiercely in love with a Muslim.