One fine spring evening, sitting in my college library, I gathered myself to read “Detective Marketing”. The weather was a bit cold and the smooth breeze through windows was making the ambience very pleasant. I continued my reading for about one hour. It was a damn good book, and very thought provoking too. So I felt bit tired and wanted to relax. I needed a little change; I wanted to think about something else. A stream of thoughts went through my mind: my absurd dreams (unfulfilled and otherwise), my religion, my country, movies made on history of Hindustan and Hinduism and on and on. Of a sudden a dreadful cry struck on my ears. It was a cry of those helpless people which I had seen in those movies and the frightful stories of the British and Mughal times. It echoed in my mind and created an inharmonious effect. The terrible pictures flashed in front of my eyes. My entire body and mind was filled with aggression. Suddenly I cried out in despair, “My religion is the greatest religion, my country is the noblest country in the world. I am proud to be a Hindu and I am proud to be a Hindustani. God will never have mercy on you-you bastards!”
Not even had a second passed that I heard someone laughing at me. His eyes were filled with pity for me. I stared at him in anger. He was laughing hysterically. I couldn’t make out what was so funny. I was about to shout at him, he smiled at me and said, “Hey! You said something quite interesting. I can see your affection towards for your country and religion. But could you please reason out your feelings for your religion and country?”
I never expected the question at that moment; I simply went blank. A few seconds later I gained consciousness. I fumbled and blurted, “We… we we….are known for our resistance. We are kind hearted. We are real human beings. Though the British and Islamic Kings ruled us for centuries, tortured, humiliated, exploited us for centuries, we have always walked in the path of non-violence and and and ….”
He suddenly sprang up to his feet and roared:
“and you bastards are cowards. You have always been in the habit of accepting slavery and you are the bloody half-wits the world has given birth to.”
I was staring at him like a fool, mouth wide open. He continued,
“You people have always cried that they ruled you, tortured you, exploited you, humiliated you etc etc. If you look at the other side, you will realize that it was you who let them do this to you. How could one rule over you, till you allow yourself to be their slave? How could one torture you, if you didn’t permit them to? How could one exploit you, till you let yourself being used? All the good things were made and built in Hindustan by these rulers and good things came out after churning a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Whatever you have and are proud of, were their initiation and underpinning. Instead of appreciating them, you are looking at their flaws?”
“What bulshit”..I moved my face to other side,
He sat closely to me and continued, “List out all the things you have done for yourself, can you?? Traditions, some blind beliefs…pieces like shit? Even the soul of your religion got purified during the time of the British and up to some extent by them only. The truth is that, you never loved your own people and God. You did not spare your God himself. You divided Him into 33 crore entities and in the name of those very entities you divided your people. Sigh…Ramayan, Mahabharat, the Bhagwat Geeta…these are your holy books, right? Has anyone realized what do those books really have to say? Have you ever realized the nicest things written in those books? Tell me, how many times you have seen those books? Do you have any understanding of your own culture? Do you respect your own culture in the true sense? The answer is a simple “NO”. And you imbeciles claim you are the best in the world, you are kind hearted…Hell! What the hell are you going to do with your kindheartedness? I say you are cowards. You could never be masters. You always preferred to be a slave, always took the easy way out.”
My mind and body were filled with shame. I realized what he had said. But who was he? I tried to touch him. But I couldn’t. At last I understood and realized, the man who showed me the dark and hard face of truth was non-other than my own shadow, my own soul. I am thankful to my inner self for making me see the world as it is and not as I see it.
You might not agree with my views on politics and religion. But the point I am trying to make here is “to see the world as it is and being unbiased, as biasness will always restrict our thoughts and imagination”.