Fears

He was a peon in my father's office. He had a sturdy built and curled up mustache. He would join us all in the after dinner talk, discussing a range of topics. He would cite some of the stories from puranas that my parents didn't know and had a knack of engaging the attention of all when narrating them...Especially of 10 year kids, like me back then. He often told stories from muslim and hindu religions. I came to know that he used to actually read puranas and other religious hindu texts to the illiterate villagers in a remote telangana area of andhra pradesh. I did not realize the importance of that as a child but now I know how big a thing it is...because he was a devout muslim who fasted during ramzan and did namaz everyday.
In an era when extremists of colors breed intolerance and call for revenge citing historical persecution of 'others'..I fear for this way of life, which still exists in rural India. This is the way of life that is corrupted as much with terrorist attacks as it is with proselytizing, vain talk of secularism, giving unnecessary oxygen to those who espouse intolerance, lack of resolve amongst us to call a spade a spade and finally inability to keep our religion confined to our hearts.
One of the songs I used to sing in school compared India to a garden full of flowers of various colors...Replacing the garden with flowers of same color robs its beauty and makes it into a farm not garden just as painting the canvas with a single uniform color erases the painting beneath.
I wish the garden blooms with hundreds of flowers of all colors.
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