सारे जहाँ से अच्छा हिंदोस्तां हमारा

I was born in West Punjab in undivided India. Because West Punjab became a part of Pakistan after the partition, my parents, like millions of others, got uprooted and traversed to East Punjab ( now simply Punjab) in free ( divided) India. I was a toddler then. The early days in our new abode were tumultuous. We were branded as refugees and were seen as intruders. The acceptance by the locals was generally low. It varied with the locality in which one settled. In general, the poorer and relatively uneducated people occupied the erstwhile Muslim mohallas in (East) Punjab and other places, while the more resourceful, knowledgeable and smarter people managed to settle in better neighbourhoods and enjoyed greater acceptance and trust. However, in spite of all the problems, we grew up, got educated and managed to make good careers. The more I look back, the more I feel thankful to my parents and God for bringing us up. I have always felt lucky and satisfied that my country and the people took care of us in our earlier days and I have always felt obliged to do something in return. I have always been proud of being born an Indian and am very passionate about India. My Indian-ness is nothing short of jingoism. Whenever, I see or hear any thing good about India, like an Indian getting an international award, I am overcome by emotion. I become speechless; my throat gets choked; I start crying with happiness and my eyes get flooded with tears.

I keep remembering Iqbal, the poet and often quote him and his anthem

सारे जहाँ से अच्छा हिंदोस्तां हमारा

हम बुलबुलें हैं इसकी यह गुलसितां हमारा

But lately, I have found myself becoming a little skeptic. I still keep remembering Iqbal and his above encomium to India but in the same breath I keep getting reminded of another of his couplets

अपने वतन में हूँ के गरिबुद्द्यार हूँ

डरता हूँ देख देख के इस दश्तो दर को मैं

“Am I in my own country or am I in an alien land. The more I look at this jungle, the more I get scared “

I fail to identify the present day country as my India. I feel alienated. My sense of belonging is being undermined.

More than once, I have caught myself questioning me whether it would have been better if my parents had continued to stay in Pakistan. This question pops up in spite of the awareness that because we would not have renounced Hinduism at any cost, we would have been treated as second class citizens. As a matter of fact, the above question comes up as a corollary to a host of questions

“In free and supposedly secular India, are we any better?"

" Have I got any advantage due to my being a Hindu? "

"Are we not being treated as second class citizens only?”

I do acknowledge that immediately after the partition, we were given some help like temporary shelters and food in transit camps for a few day. After that we had to and did fend for ourselves. I do not hold any grudge on this count. In fact, as mentioned earlier, I have been thankful to all those who rendered help. My problem is the hurt to which my psyche got subjected because of the undercurrents at various stages and occasions. I am also aware of the fact that this problem is not endemic. For millions of other people who were also refugees, this is no issue at all. They are the blessed ones who have not only outgrown this issue but also are living happily ever after. Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh is one of the numerous examples. Our progeny is also mercifully oblivious of this trauma.

What is my problem then?

Am I a plain and simple cry baby?

Do I suffer from ‘I want more ‘ syndrome a la Oliver Twist?

Am I an incorrigible dysphoric?

In any case, why have I chosen to air my grievances now, eons after the partition and after having ‘enjoyed’ my life?

These questions also keep popping in my own mind because I have always been Devil’s advocate against my own self. It is true that I have not expressed my anguish earlier and that I could have as well opted to keep eyes, ears and mouth shut. It seems easy and simple to maintain status quo as advised by Jaan Nisar Akhtar

और तहजीबे गमें इश्क निबाह दें कुछ दिन

आखिरी वक्त में क्यूं अपने चलन को भूलें

Coupled with this has been a fatalistic feeling that any expression of dissidence will be an exercise in futility because nothing is going to change. But however much have I tried, I have not been able to stop the stream of thoughts which keep coming back to me. Somewhere in the subconscious mind lingers a feeling that I must speak up. The process of exhuming the buried past has been triggered by the milieu of today and the concern for the future.

The answer to the question “ why now” is “It is better late than never”

and that “if it is not now, it never will be”.

Further, it is the like the process of auditing which is generally carried out post-event. The audit of my life has begun now, albeit very late.

I begin at the beginning.

It was fortuitous that after the partition we came to settle in a small mohalla which, before the partition, had been inhabited by Muslim washermen and other menials who made their living by rendering service to neighbouring Hindu populace. Because of this feudalistic relationship and the allegiance to different religions, there had been absolutely no social and cultural interaction between the denizens of this mohalla and the neighbouring Hindu populace. After the partition, though the Muslims were replaced by us Hindus, the chasm in the social and cultural interaction between the mohallas was continued. It could be initially justified as attributable to xenophobia and the ensuing mistrust. While most of our mohalla mates took it in their strides and accepted it as fait accompli, my family never felt at ease but also did nothing about it.

At school, there was always a not-so-covert discrimination. For an extended period of time, the refugees, as we were referred to with scorn, were herded into sections different from the ones in which the locals were grouped. The locals were the elite and the refugees the underprivileged. The best facilities including the best teaching staff were assigned to the locals. However, it was ironic that in studies as well as in extra-curricular activities like drama and poetry most of the toppers came from the refugee groups.

It was the same story at college. Things did change later but it caused a lot of heart burn and the malice existed for a very long time.

When I joined service in a Government of India department at Mumbai (then called Bombay), it was my first excursion outside Punjab and the first encounter with India at large. I was very happy and proud to be a part of this great country because I found that the selection process for the job was totally merit based and no discrimination was made based on religion, region, caste and creed. My batch comprised people from all parts of India and included Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs and even Parsees.

Those were the halcyon days. But they did not last for long.

In fact, the country and the people were just recovering from the after effects of the earlier events which included Linguistic reorganization of states, Chinese aggression and death of Pandit Nehru. India had just started limping back to normalcy when Pakistan attacked India. Then Lal Bahadur Shastri died, which led to head on collision between Indira Gandhi and the congress old guard. Devaluation of Rupee took place. Bihar was devastated by famine. In between, anti-Hindi agitations wreaked havoc at various places. Regional parties came to the fore and India stood divided again, this time on the basis of language. Things started deteriorating rapidly thereafter. The initial euphoria of independence gave way to scepticism.

Hitherto, though I had been often facing incongruities and had to endure covert and overt prejudice and discrimination, I had been tolerant and forbearing. My tolerance was perhaps the result of a cocktail of number of behavioural traits viz. magnanimity, apathy, helplessness, cowardliness, inferiority complex and martyrdom.

Yet again, perhaps it was the result of the anxiety to survive come what may

हमने हर हाल में जीने की क़सम खाई है

Hamne har haal mein jeene ki kasam khai hai

(I have vowed to exist under any circumstance)

During the early years in Punjab, there were various tiers of bias and discrimination. First, the discrimination existed between Hindus and Sikhs. Among the Hindus, there was distinction and discrimination between refugees and locals. Then even among the refugees, there was a lot of micro-level inequity between people from Lahore, Sialkot, Peshawar and Jhang & Multan etc. etc. I have not cared to elaborate on the general malice that afflicts Hindus at large due to disharmony between Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and Shudras. Nor have I touched upon the gulf between Jats and non-Jats among Sikhs.

I vividly remember the kinds of reactions, from various sections of the Punjab polity in particular and public in general, which were evoked by the appointment of ‘Comrade’ Ram Kishan Mehta as the Chief Minister of Punjab. He was particularly unacceptable to the land-owning feudals who sought to dismiss him as a non-entity bereft of the wherewithal to rule Punjab and lord over them.

His disqualification was purported to be “that he was a refugee from Jhang and was therefore an inherently weak, incapable and a backward person.”

I have also not been able to forget that when my younger brother appeared for an interview for joining Indian Army, he was told in unequivocal terms that he was unacceptable because he came from a family who had no military connections. At that time, the military in Punjab was the sole preserve of Sikhs particularly the Jats with some share being taken by Brahmins and other upper caste locals and khatris from Lahore / Gujranwala etc. among the refugees.

When I joined service at Bombay (now Mumbai) as mentioned earlier, I was happy to be away from Punjab because of three main reasons.

1. It was the beginning of a new chapter in the life, which was founded on recognition of the inherent intelligence and merit.

2. It was an opportunity for widening the horizons and for joining the mainstream of India at large.

3. It was an agent for dilution of the stigma of being a ‘refugee from a particular area of West Punjab’. I found that Mumbai was a great equalizer and gave two hoots for one’s origins.

But soon I came face to face with other truths. I found that our department was infested with people from the south. While most of the clerical and the administrative staff were from Kerala, the higher echelons were dominated by Tamil Brahmins. There were insinuations of nepotism and favouritism against them. Of course, these two communities were not alone in these shenanigans. Some other provincial and linguistic groups had their own parochial agendas. This resulted in all-round acrimony among people and proved to be an impediment to the concerted efforts that were necessary to bring growth and prosperity to the country. This malady was not unique or limited only to our department. In fact, it has been prevalent in all spheres of Indian life for ever. That was the reason why we have been ruled by foreigners for a thousand years. But it had become dormant and latent in the run upto freedom. Now it again emerged like the ‘Genie from the bottle’. Coronation of Hindi as the official language in place of English and the subsequent anti-Hindi agitation in South and other places was one of the triggers. Formation of Shiv Sena and its professed agenda for getting some privileges and preferential treatment for the ‘Son of the Soil’ in Mumbai was perhaps the harbinger of a chain reaction for similar demands in other states. The chronology of events is not an important issue, their occurrence is.

Another important, debilitating and divisive factor has been the upsurge of the so called ‘Backward’ and Other Backward Classes and the recommendations of Mandal Commission thereof. The constitution had already provided for special treatment of Scheduled Castes & Scheduled Tribes ( SC/ST), the Dalits (underprivileged members) of the India Society, in the form of financial support and reservation in educational institutions and government service. Now the specter of OBC has been raised more out of political compulsions than actual welfare of the deserving masses. This is one issue which has sought to divide the Indian society very widely, deeply and permanently. This has resulted in the phenomenon of coalition governments and the resultant degeneration in ethics of governance and the governing class. To me, it is a double whammy. On the one hand, I have had to endure the stress caused by the discrimination due to being a Punjabi vis-à-vis the South Indians and Bengalis; among the Punjabis themselves because of being a refugee and among the refugees because of my parents having hailed from an area of West Punjab which was considered backward by Lahorians and others who considered themselves more advanced. On the other hand, I find that a sizeable population is trying to garner privileges and concessions by branding themselves as members of ‘Other Backward Classes’. The most disconcerting fact in this whole business is that the benefits do not reach genuinely backward people, instead these are cornered by some people who take pride in calling themselves as advanced for all other social purposes but are unashamed to produce a piece of paper declaring them to be belonging to backward class. In today’s political atmosphere, the SC/ST and OBC are a force to reckon with and are bent upon utilizing their position to the hilt and are able to dictate terms with all political parties. It is almost becoming fashionable to brand oneself as OBC in order to defy the law and wield authority. The large number of criminal cases involving OBCs is a testimony to this fact.

And yet there is another phenomenon which has provoked me to ask all the questions above; it is the position enjoyed by the so called minority communities particularly the Muslims. I find it very curious that an axis is being formed comprising Muslims, Dalits and OBCs. The Muslims are the biggest beneficiaries of the recent political imbroglios. They are in fact ruling India by proxy. It is noteworthy that 15% Muslim population is able to dictate the rest of 85% population on the formation of Governments at Centre and of States. The irony is that one hand there are cries of minorities (read as Muslims) being denied certain rights, while on the other hand, they defy the ordinary and common civil laws of the land with impunity. The use of loudspeakers in the mosques and madrassas at all times of day and night is just one example. On top of all that there are some selfish politicians who are championing the cause of Muslims and are crying hoarse for reservation of jobs for Muslims. They do not take a second look at the statistics of how Muslims have swamped the Entertainment industry, the media, the sports and a number of niche industries.

The conclusion of all the foregoing is that I feel being treated as Second Class citizen in my own country India.

To the question “whether it would have been better if my parents had stayed back in Pakistan”, the answer is a definite ‘No’.

The reason for the answer is that Herculean efforts would have been necessary to even exist; the magnitude of the efforts to bring about a change in the society or in the governing class would have been unimaginable.

In spite of all the shortcomings that I have listed about India and its people, it is a lively society, where reason can still prevail and persistence does pay.

Since life is a constant struggle, I shall carry on the same, now with renewed vigour and sense of purpose.

I have nothing to lose.