The bell rang.
I tried to get up, but Mr. Agarwal signaled me to keep sitting and slowly hobbled to open the door.
Sharmaji was visible with a large bouquet, leading to an awkward silence.
“Oh Sharmaji,…what a surprise….please come in…” I could sense a suspicious welcome
“Get well soon, Agarwal saab…and don’t be surprised…its my duty…” Sharmaji bowed and extended the bouquet. I was taken aback; not expecting him to be there so fast, literally following me.
“Oh, thank you..Please have a seat…” Mr. Agarwal hesitatingly took the bouquet and painfully wobbled to the settee. Sharmaji too made the scene surreal by his limping. Holding his beloved lathi, he looked around closely and thoughtfully sat down. For some mysterious reason my presence was completely ignored. The shinning, oiled lathi, extending over his head was held lovingly by both hands, as he keenly inspected Mr. Agarwal and his bandages.
“What happened to your nose?” I was aghast at the crude tone of an insulting inquiry.
“Oh, that bastard rubbed my face against wall...” The host painfully mumbled his shame.
“But good at least your nose is saved...aap ki naak kati to naheen na...” Sharmaji roared with his typical staccato burst of coarse laugh, like a country made gun painfully firing. I saw face of Mr. Agarwal flinching on unexpected crudity, but he kept his cool. He too perhaps dreaded the consequences of the guest sermonizing against his private life.
To me, Sharmaji looked liked a doughty Punjab village headman visiting his troubled subject. The differences were ample too; the dress, headgear and the paraphernalia of a British upper middle class home. His trademark ruffled mane and stubble gave him a menacing aura of an East European Mafioso.
“You must report to the police…don’t be afraid…” He got down to business fast.
“I can’t even move few steps…but thanks to my neighbor Juliana, who drove me to the medical centre..” Mr. Agarwal protested, fearing an immediate visit to the police station.
“Don’t worry, that stupid ape is coming here to record your statement…” Sharmaji started rolling the lathi between bony palms.
“What…who is coming here..?” A confused Mr. Agarwal gave an angular look painfully.
“That racist policeman…I call him an ape.. a langoor…Any problem?” Sharmaji explained and inquired in his deadpan voice.
“Well, what can I say…You know things better…around here…” A wide eyed Mr. Agarwal threw a deep inquiring look at me. But I carefully maintained my stony presence; keeping the suitable noncommittal, fence sitting neutrality of a thick skinned Indian politician during a crucial no confidence vote.
“Good, I called and gave that ape my piece of mind…must be here any moments…don’t be afraid at all, I am with you and so are all other Indians too…” Sharmaji looked at his watch, still ignoring me. I decided to become a piece of furniture to watch the old foes getting close. Sound of a car made Sharmaji get up and limp to the door, signaling Mr. Agarwal to lie down.
“You pretend to in great pain..”
“I don’t have to pretend any thing…the pain is unbearable…” The host protested angrily.
“Good, then try to feel double pain.. And don't worry...and take it easy…it’s his damn duty…the langoor is not doing us any favor…Okay?” The inappropriate use of ‘good’ was stupid and his dubious ignorance of my presence was agitating my mind along with crudities. Mr. Agarwal again looked at me curiously and did as ordered so decisively by his old foe. His mounting discomfiture was visible on being ordered around so coarsely.
“Hello inspector Bartan..” I felt myself craning my neck to fulfill desire to look at the apelike policeman.”
“Hi, it’s Burton...”
“Sounds great but makes no difference to me…” A mocking Sharmaji ridiculed the English objection.
My disappointment was evident; he was the same policeman whose dramatic arrival saved me from thugs. He shook hand with Mr. Agarwal, looked deeply at me and smiled. I got up, shook hand and introduced my self. Richard Burton sat down, swiftly opened his notebook with English efficiency and started questioning. Mr. Agarwal haltingly narrated the incident. I could see that he was following the instructions of Sharmaji who sat close to his apelike foe and let the story unfold.
Feeling unwanted and bored, I decided to make some contribution by preparing tea and moved to the kitchen.
“Oye Gal shun yaar…that’s not right…how and where you met this langoor Bhanda Bartan?”
The familiar accusing baritones made me spin, seething with deep anger. The horrible braggart had been callously ignoring my presence, even forgetting my defining role in softening Mr. Agarwal’s dislike for him! Enough was enough, my revulsion mounted and exploded.
“You are impossibly crude and mad…and where I met this ape? Well, for your info, he just saved me from getting mugged up on the way here…Okay?” My retort was befittingly rebellious and vengeful.
“That’s good…was that a black gang?” Unfazed by my tone and anger, his eyes sparkled.
“What the hell you mean by that’s good…?” I nearly chewed the words to keep the angered voice down. It was close shave to be mugged badly and that is good for this horribly unconcerned idiot!
“That must be a black thug…right?” With out waiting for an answer, he thoughtfully decided the culprit.
“That was a black thug, who tried to rob..Okay? He repeated his assumption.
“What do you mean…and okay to what?” My anger was boiling over, just like the hot tea foaming violently in the pot before me.
“Don’t apply your fhaltu mind…let me handle it…you just act shocked and nod to what I tell him…Okay?” The Mafiosi whispered the order, turned and limped back to the living room. I felt myself under strange stupid feeling of colluding in his unknown sinister plan. I could guess he was up to some thing. When I went back, holding a tray, the questioning of Mr. Agarwal was over.
“Thank you very much…” Richard Burton picked up a cup and smiled. I immediately felt indebted to him and wondered what Sharmaji was up to.
“You folks not doing enough to control crime in this area…mostly by black thugs and junkies..?” Sharmaji picked up a cup. He never cared for any niceties; so expectedly, didn’t thank me, nor smiled and neither even bothered to look up. The receding anger boiled back with vengeance and I was about to pour hot tea on my tormentor.
“These thugs are all kind..Happen to be black… whites and Asians too…” Burton was evasive.
“I know your problem…you don’t like admitting few dirty facts…” Sharmaji leaned on the lathi to convey his anger.
Burton turned thoughtful and sipped tea, almost ignoring the open challenge thrown to him. Now from close I was happy to at last see some resemblance to apelike features. His jaw outline protruded a bit, and that must be the defining reason for Sharmaji to term him an ape.
“Well, it a difficult area…Sir, were boys troubling you?” Burton suddenly turned and addressed me. I felt too happy to be involved in the conversation at last.
“It was a black gang …you folks are doing nothing…” Sharmaji was quick to push me out.
“Well, both white and black..”I interjected but let it tapered off as steely eyes bore in to convey an order aligning with his anti black line.
“They were demanding money…but ran away seeing you approach….” Sharmaji looked at me closely and spoke as if, I had told him about the incident in finer details.
“He is still too shocked and afraid…just look at him…” I felt myself shriveling into suitably panicked posture. The performance must have been good, because it forced Richard Burton to put down his cup and swiftly jotting down detailed belched out by Sharmaji. He gave hazy description of a black boy threatening me with a knife. I wondered about his motivations to accuse blacks of rampant mugging but found myself still groping in dark.
“I find your walking stick very interesting…and intimidating as well!”
“Inspector Bartan, this very stick was used by Mahatma Gandhi!” Sharmaji looked at stick with due reverence and touched his head on it. Mr. Agarwal seemed flabbergasted and painfully turned his neck towards me. I was taken aback at the audacity and looked closely on the freshly emerged historical connection with mounting curiosity. Sharmaji had meanwhile leaned back, closed him eyes, leaving us all hanging and panting for me. But the ape was charged, he edged forward.
“Really, Mr. Sharmaji…but how could you get it....don't tell me you are related to Mr. Gandhi...are you?”
Burton’s eyes bulged and looked deeply fascinated at the object of great historical relevance.
“That is a long story inspector…some other time…and one more thing..” The deep baritone made the ape look up.
“What’s that Mr. Sharmaji..” We all waited coiled in mounting suspense. The shinning lathi kept rolling between the bony palms, as we found ourselves inching to the edge. Sharmaji suddenly opened his eyes and looked at his rival with deep pity.
“Gandhi was never intimidating, inspector..”
The policeman turned serious and stared at his tormentor with admiration.
A bored Mr. Agarwal shifted uncomfortably, looking enquiringly at my shriveled frame. Like a trapped unwilling accomplish some how I was still awaiting for a signal to unlock myself. The ape leaned and tried to touch the lathi with care and a somber face, Sharmaji swung it away.
“I am sorry, you have to wash your hands first..” The apelike face fell a little but nodded understandingly.
“We will have good opportunity to talk about Gandhi a lot, tomorrow...let me tell you more about these black thugs…”
Sharmaji was still focused on issues of black gangs creating a big every day nuisance. He let out a vivid trail of unreported violent incidents; unsavory scum’s roaming freely on streets and mugging people. In no time Richard Burton started to agree with the formidable evidences and valuable first hand information about the mounting menace. Sharmaji would often ask Burton to stop, close his eyes, as if thinking hard and after some time start sharing more. I could see the ape too had same deep traces of racial biases; the British have been accused of quite often. They talked animatedly on the subject like old friends and suddenly Burton got angry.
“I get so fed up and I want to shoot these scum dead right there...but could not...you know the shit laws…”
Sharmaji fell silent judging him closely.
‘Are you sure, you want to do that?”
A charged up Burton repeated his desire loudly.
“Are you serious...better you folks learn it from Punjab police?”
“Yes, you may be right..but sorry Punjab police is too violent…we have a different system…but you know I am really fed up..and one of these days...”His voice trailed off, perhaps belatedly realizing the foolish indiscretion. He got up and shook hands.
“We have invited the press and others to discuss the crimes in area...it will be good if you are there. Sharmaji got up and walked with Burton to the door.
“Okay...well will see and talk to superiors about it.” The ape turned distant again.
“Oh, I though, you are the boss around here?”
The policeman skillfully avoided the mocking question, smiled, shook hands and went out.
“Was this lathi really used by Mahatma Gandhi?” Mr. Agarwal could no longer suppress his mounting curiosity.
“My grand father never told a lie in his whole life….but I do, when ever needed.”Sharmaji gave a broad smile to a confused Mr. Agarwal.
“Get well soon Agarwal saab…come on lets go.” Sharmaji suddenly addressed me, turned and walked out. I found his abrupt escape uncivil and felt bad leaving a troubled Mr. Agarwal alone but was curious about many unexplained things. I let Sharmaji wait for some time and talked to Mr. Agarwal, who was sure about the false claim of the lathi used by Gandhi. I agreed readily with him and took leave with a promise of a visit along with grocery in the evening.
Sharmaji was contentedly humming the theme song from “Mukkadar Ka Sikandar”. I wondered about his change of mood but asked nothing. He screeched to a halt after bypassing my place. It was a curious behavior for him, and I was sure he was on to do some thing important.
“I better ran…you see….got many things to do…and don’t forget to attend the community meeting…you know the place…right….be there on time to see destruction of my enemies and their criminal supporters.”
The community hall was teeming with English, Black, Hispanic Indian, Pakistanis and varied specimens of the greatly mixed neighborhood. The Indian entourage looked formidable in its strength and the sheer variety; the turbaned Sikhs, Punjabi, Gujarati, South Indians, Bengali and others, less distinguishable. The media was in attendance with their paraphernalia. A fat, black spokesman was skillfully harping on the blatant discriminatory attitude of British police, punctuated by cheerful boos and clapping. Richard Burton listened pensively along with two others who were trying hard to look important. One was a thin Pakistani doctor with dark glasses, who had been very short and diplomatic while sharing his experience with police and problems in the area. Obviously Burton was happy and smiled at him repeatedly. Other, an Englishmen, who spoke first, had talked philosophically on great British values of welcoming and respecting the vibrant multi-cultural ethos.
I looked around but Sharmaji was not visible and the seat on dais with his name was vacant. He had asked me to be present on time to witness the exposure and destruction all the horrible plotters and their vile supporters. The old foe and challenger of Sharmaji, Thakkar and his glamorous wife sat in first row. I could feel some silent communication going on with the policeman, or may be my biases were making me see things. The long acrimonious battle between an aggressive Punjabi Sharmaji and astutely calm and scheming Gujarati Thakkar was representative of their distinctive communities. As the speaker concluded with loud clapping, a murmuring commotion broke out. I was sitting some where in the middle and followed every one's amazed look at the back entrance.
I blinked many times to make myself realize, if it was reality or a dream.
A figure resembling Mahatma Gandhi with two girls on sides, stood at the entrance. The trio moved ahead swiftly in the isle towards the stage under continuous glare of flashlights.
It was Sharmaji dressed as Gandhi.
He might have looked different to those who were familiar with diminutive, thin figure of real Mahatma Gandhi. But Sharmaji dressed to perfection in dhoti, his stubble and head shaved, matching spectacles and the trademark Lathi, looked like a healthy and taller version of the real. His audacity to play a limping naked fakir in the biting British cold was admirable.
While everyone was still trying to decipher the drama to react, Sharmaji had reached the podium.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, I am Tilak Raj Sharma, the disciple of Mahatma Gandhi.”
The flashlights blazed again accompanied with clapping, cat calls and whistles by his boisterous supporters. A fascinated Richard Burton got up and clapped. Others on the dais followed too, the black spokesman; perhaps a South African was overwhelmed. He promptly decided to bow before the healthy avatar of Gandhi. The reaction of Pakistani doctor was visibly muted but the English philosopher was greatly amused by the unfolding drama of vibrant multi cultural colors. A stunned Thakkar was shaking his head in disbelief but his egalitarian wife seemed lost in the unfolding drama.
“This is my grand father’s walking stick and was used by Mahatma for one whole day during historic dandi salt march. When faced with suppression and discrimination, Mahatma always reacted by peaceful means to make his point and guide the toiling masses of India”
The shinning Lathi was held high for benefit of cameras. After ample exposure, he lowered the historic connection to the revered figure and continued in more somber tone. Every one listened; the nuggets of history and Gandhians wisdom narrated skillfully by Sharmaji.
“Ladies and gentlemen, like my ideal Mahatma Gandhi, I too humbly try to fight the discrimination and suppression through peaceful means by telling only the truth. And now let us all hear the truth about what is happening in our beloved neighborhood. I must make it clear; that I feel no enmity for any one and my actions are solely guided by the concept of common good.”
Sharmaji took the shoulder bag from one girl and silently produced a cassette player and switched it on.
Angry voice of Richard Burton boomed, expressing his deep frustration against the stupid law bound inability to kill the black miscreants. The black speaker turned to look menacingly at the dazed policeman. A dark cloud descended on the face of the English philosopher; feeling devastated as his dream was turning in to a disastrous mess. The Pakistani was trying hard to stay neutral and unaffected by the Gandhi inspired turn of events. But the media was greatly pleased by unexpected windfall of sleaze and high drama.
The cassette player continued to belch the uncomfortable truth with Gandhian detachment.
“That shameful thug Thakkar has laid his wife as bait before that racist policeman Richard Burton to harass and pin the devoted social worker Sharmaji.” An unknown English voice told more explicit truth about the dubious alliance with sinister objectives.
An agitated Thakkar got up made wild gestures angrily and tried hard to stop Sharmaji. His wife covered her face and raced out, frantically followed by salivating cameras and microphones.
Showing posts with label Indian Despora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indian Despora. Show all posts
Monday, August 8, 2011
New Indian Muslim Leaders: Plights and Possibilities
The Fortress of the Faith, Darul Uloom Deoband, has decided to remove Gulam Mohamad Vastanvi, the controversial rector.
Vastanvi and his supporters have termed the findings of the inquiry committee incomplete along with allegations of internal politics, pressure and interest groups using the opportunity to maintain the their hold over the respected seminary. His supporters are taking legal advice to approach the court as the institute has to comply with the established rules and procedures as per Societies act.
“I have been absolved of two allegations of Modi and Moorti, but they have not investigated who were responsible for the incitements of students and hooliganism.”
When asked about his past controversial comments, he replied by muttering, “No comments please.” He further explained that Draul Uloom is a seminary and there was no possibility of him ushering a new curriculum and modern education.
The controversy has mobilized the community on hereto untouched issue of new approach, like never before, as Vastanvi started getting support of the community at large throughout the country
The moderate leader and an accomplished educationist hailing from Gujarat was appointed in January as Vice Chancellor of Darul Ulooom, Deoband. He immediately found himself in midst of acrid controversies after praising the development underway in Gujarat and its accrued benefits to all including the Muslims. He had also advised Muslims to get on with important issues of education and jobs, rather than living forever under dark shadows of 2002 riots.
One of the primary reasons for Vastanvi's appointment as VC of Darul Uloom, was his ability to get along, as he turned out to be the candidate acceptable to both warring factions. His exemplary track record as an educationist, who might have brought in the fresh air could have been largely an unintended benefit. He has been associated for a decade and been a liberal Donner to Deoband too.
Starting with nothing apart from his zeal and vision from a thatched roof hut with 6 students, he gradually built the huge education infrastructure in 30 years because of his positive approach and hard work, benefiting over 250, 000 students, half of them were provided free education. Unfazed by the controversies, he has gone ahead with his fund raising campaign in west for a new medical college and hospital.
But in highly politically correct, lip service prone India, such achievements and merit have always been immediately scarified for well entrenched political expediencies. If an assessment of response about Vastanvi is made on the basis of online comments made, he has less admirers with in his community, while the appreciation is wide spread amongst the non Muslims.
Echoing the majority views prevailing in the Urdu press, displayed extension of well entrenched biases, some Muslim commentators have even responded with angry criticism of his fund raising in west, and denounced it being an anti Muslim venture. His net supporters have been severally abused and heaped with strings of unprintable names, laced in abrasive religious, caste and racial prejudices.
The critics have lost no time in calling him a pathetic sellout and stooge of BJP, a political party, pursuing right wing Hindu agenda, along with unacceptable behaviour of a Muslim distributing idols of Ram and Krishna in a function. Interestingly, in recent past, even the noted Marxist leader from West Bengal was severely criticized for offering puja and accepting prasad from a Hindu priest, during last parliamentary election.
Boldly combining modern education and ethos with religious teachings, thousands of poor students benefit from scholarships for higher education, under his leadership. Vastanvi has been personally behind construction of about 4500 mosques across India.
His, brainchild Jamia Islamia Ishaatul Uloom plans to double the intake of students in all major courses of management, engineering, teaching, medicine and pharmacy. About 15 institutes being ran in Akkalkua alone are modern campuses of swanky buildings with international look and Internet connections. A 100 Cr (about 23 Million US $) Medical University is coming up in Jalana.
His supporters are convinced that, he is also being punished for displaying a new vision and imparting modern education to the student, an age old anathema to old guards of Indian Muslims Leaders, who abhor changes and love old ways.
Other the other side, even during last January when the controversy exploded, influential old boys' forum of Deoband announced that they would come out in strong opposition of the Shura Council if it decided to press for Vastanvi's resignation.
Deoband has never been free from such fierce inner wrangling, but a new bench mark has been established. During the controversy, dissensions were also hotly debated among the ordinary’ Muslims, unlike in the past, when these issues had remained largely limited to the insular clerics themselves. His appointment and removal is internal matter of Darul UIoom as well as an indicator of how the Indian Muslim community is grappling with the visible change in the leadership.
If we view the related events and discourse in the larger prospective, a welcome shift is indeed visible. The new breed of Indian Muslim leadership is bursting out and trying to redefine, the popular but highly dysfunctional, divisive, age old cast iron narrative built and nurtured on perennial angst, conflicts and pains of past.
If his elevation as rector, a consensual candidate, though part of an on going internal power struggle, was seen as significant development, signalling the belated arrival of new leadership. The eviction showed that the old guards were deft in exploiting the opportunity to revive their hold. Elevation of Vastanvi was also seen as result of an attempt to deftly blunt and gradually remove the six decade hold of Arshad Madani and his family.
Being the first outsider to head the important institution, liberal Vastanvi is also the first non north India, non Sayed and non Shaikh person to head the seminary. Many students, who remained his silent supporters, were hoping that he would some how be revamping the old, uninspiring syllabus and make it more in tune with demands of time.
Many Liberal Muslims intellectuals, have reported to have privately lambasted the well known political mechanization, intrigue, culture of malice and antagonism of Arshad Madani to maintain and regain the hold over the institution; he fancies as his own family heirloom.
The struggle is with in family too, as he is closely related to Arshad Madani. With out naming his relative and rival, Vastanvi has expressed strong views against treating a community asset as own for personal benefits.
The Urdu press has vehemently opposed Vastanvi for the unpardonable, cardinal sin committed by praising the on going development in Gujarat and its accrued benefits to Muslims. The collective print media onslaught is believed to have been engineered by supporters of Arshad Madani.
Few Urdu newspapers who praised Vastanvi are being severely ridiculed for their Qadiyani behavior, and his supporters are termed as Saffron minded moderates.
Veteran journalist M. J. Akbar has called Vastanvi a remarkable person, who has demonstrated ability and skills to address problems of the community.
Ameer Raza Husain, the noted theatre director wanted the freedom of speech be respected and appealed for a reasonable response.
Barbara Metcalf, writer of Deobandism and author of the brilliant A Concise History of India, opined that arrival of Vastanvi on stage signals a ‘breath of fresh air’ to counter the traditional scholars, or the ‘old guard’. She has acknowledged his credentials and skills in addressing what the new generation of Indian Muslims have been saying are their real interests: education, employment and integration into the mainstream.
Anwar Ali, an advocate has expressed his support in followings words on Milli Gazette:
“The importance of ‘difference of opinions’ and ‘principled or constructive opposition’ is something else but dirty and stinking politics based on selfishness and malice is distasteful to every one. The words and sentences too that are used for Vastanvi Saheb are below the level of decency. They are in negation of all canons of civility and ethics. As a lawyer, I would advise Vastanvi Saheb to file a criminal case of contempt against all those people in a civil court. Those leaders and ulama who are collecting wealth from within and outside the country and monopolizing Darul Uloom Deoband do not want to see Molvi Vastanvi as its rector.”
Rehan Ali and his brother Mavi Ali scions of an old zamindar family from Deoband , said they will file a Public Interest Litigation in the Supreme Court against Vastanvi's dismissal and get well known lawyer and activist Prashant Bhushan to contest the case.
Supporters of Vastanvi are becoming hot potatoes for the political parties, who have played minority card and vote bank politics . As a result Mavi was immediately thrown out from Samajvadi Party after he criticized Vastanvi's rival Arshad Madni and reposing faith in the liberal-reformist Gujarat cleric.
But the well known old guards and perennially angry Marxists were quick to mouth age old angst and anger along with total agreement that this MBA-Facebookwala is not the right man to head the respected seminary.
Kamal Farooqi ridiculed the repeated mention and importance given to his MBA degree by the media and found his removal justified.
Marxist Shabnam Hashmi breathed fire and strongly denounced him and his misdeeds
Prof J S Bandukwala, president of the Gujarat People Union for Civil Liberty, welcomed the move. “I am glad that Vastanvi is no longer heading the Darul Uloom”.
Website Bismillahnews has reacted with following words::
“Heartening is the decision by Saudi Arabian Newspapers particularly Arab News and Saudi Gazzate to ignore the News of Vastanvi totally,there was no coverage in major Arab Newspapers.The main business of Vastanvi Inshallah of collecting donations from Muslims countries will also be immensely effected because of his nexus with BJP an anti-Muslim,anti-Madrasa education party. Madrasa’s in India exist with Allahs blessing and Inshallah would continue to flourish,despite the agents of Hunood, Yahood and Nasara trying their best with money power to change the curriculum of these madarasa’s to suit hunood,yahood and Nasara. May the enemies of Madarasa’s, maloon, mardoods, in the name of producing Engineer’s,Doctor’s,MBA’s be cursed by almighty Allah for distorting Quranic teachings and Allahs deen.Ameen.Summa Ameen.”
In recent past the seminary has found itself embroiled in controversies about extension of regressive beliefs and biases along with new emerging threats.
Talaq:
Last year, the seminary has been criticized for turning itself in to a fatwa Factory, promoting the most regressive ideals and thereby ruining countless marriages along with a sense of fear among women. Darul Uloom opined that even if a person has uttered the word ‘talaq’ thrice and his wife couldn’t hear it, the divorce takes place.
Ahmadiyas:
Early this month, Darul Uloom has asked the Saudi Arabian government to ban Ahmadiyas (Qadiyanis) from visiting Makkah and Madinah to perform Haj and Umrah (mini-Haj). The seminary's vice-rector has alleged that many Qadiyanis from India disguise themselves as Muslims, they are misguided and may mislead other Muslims.
Qadiyanis have been declared non-Muslims in countries like Pakistan from times of ZA Bhutto and face severe prosecution, oppression and cyclic massacre .
Tahreek-e-Taliban Hindustan:
There is an email message floating on net from a so-called Tahreek Taliban Hindustan, using the Darul Uloom Deoband insignia, circulating the following message:
“This Country ‘India’ was never a nation of Hindus. It was ruled and governed by Muslims for hundreds of years. And we the students of Tahreek-e-Taliban-Hindusthan, demand that the Muslim majority areas should be and must be ruled according to the Sharia Law. Therefore we pass This verdict from today onwards that all the non-Muslim living in Muslim majority areas should start paying ‘JAZIYAH".You have only three choices: (1) Convert to our great faith ‘Islam” and u will be safe. (2) Or pay the Jaziyah on our terms and conditions and live. (3) Or accept our challenge and fight us on the battle field.”
The seminary has quickly distanced itself and denounced the mischievous email and its lunatic message. The mischief mongers or a radicalized fringe group of Indian Muslims could be behind this attempt to create fear and communal disharmony in India.
According to an article in The Economist, These days Gujarat accounts for 5% of India's population but 16% of its industrial output and 22% of its exports. Its growth has outpaced India's and it wins accolades from business people. A recent comparison of Indian states by McKinsey, a consultancy, waxed lyrical about Gujarat. It might yet play the role of industrial locomotive for the country, as Guangdong province did for China in the 1990s. There is lots of excited talk about exporters switching from China to India. Sanjay Lalbhai, the chairman of Arvind, a textiles maker and clothing retailer based in Ahmadabad, says such a move is "imminent" in his industry.
A new age leader of Indian Muslims, has certainly arrived and sure to make his presence felt and provide the much needed balance during important future discourses or conflicts. He can not be a lone passenger in his torturous journey from obscurity to prominence and there are others with same vision and zeal to address the myriad problems.
Vastanvi has thundered, “I am not some one be taken lightly, as no one can dent my resolve to be truthful and do the right work for the community.”
Having achieved the prominence and firing the imagination, it is yet to be seen, how he conducts himself and guides his swelling vocal and silent followers towards the lofty goals.
Vastanvi and his supporters have termed the findings of the inquiry committee incomplete along with allegations of internal politics, pressure and interest groups using the opportunity to maintain the their hold over the respected seminary. His supporters are taking legal advice to approach the court as the institute has to comply with the established rules and procedures as per Societies act.
“I have been absolved of two allegations of Modi and Moorti, but they have not investigated who were responsible for the incitements of students and hooliganism.”
When asked about his past controversial comments, he replied by muttering, “No comments please.” He further explained that Draul Uloom is a seminary and there was no possibility of him ushering a new curriculum and modern education.
The controversy has mobilized the community on hereto untouched issue of new approach, like never before, as Vastanvi started getting support of the community at large throughout the country
The moderate leader and an accomplished educationist hailing from Gujarat was appointed in January as Vice Chancellor of Darul Ulooom, Deoband. He immediately found himself in midst of acrid controversies after praising the development underway in Gujarat and its accrued benefits to all including the Muslims. He had also advised Muslims to get on with important issues of education and jobs, rather than living forever under dark shadows of 2002 riots.
One of the primary reasons for Vastanvi's appointment as VC of Darul Uloom, was his ability to get along, as he turned out to be the candidate acceptable to both warring factions. His exemplary track record as an educationist, who might have brought in the fresh air could have been largely an unintended benefit. He has been associated for a decade and been a liberal Donner to Deoband too.
Starting with nothing apart from his zeal and vision from a thatched roof hut with 6 students, he gradually built the huge education infrastructure in 30 years because of his positive approach and hard work, benefiting over 250, 000 students, half of them were provided free education. Unfazed by the controversies, he has gone ahead with his fund raising campaign in west for a new medical college and hospital.
But in highly politically correct, lip service prone India, such achievements and merit have always been immediately scarified for well entrenched political expediencies. If an assessment of response about Vastanvi is made on the basis of online comments made, he has less admirers with in his community, while the appreciation is wide spread amongst the non Muslims.
Echoing the majority views prevailing in the Urdu press, displayed extension of well entrenched biases, some Muslim commentators have even responded with angry criticism of his fund raising in west, and denounced it being an anti Muslim venture. His net supporters have been severally abused and heaped with strings of unprintable names, laced in abrasive religious, caste and racial prejudices.
The critics have lost no time in calling him a pathetic sellout and stooge of BJP, a political party, pursuing right wing Hindu agenda, along with unacceptable behaviour of a Muslim distributing idols of Ram and Krishna in a function. Interestingly, in recent past, even the noted Marxist leader from West Bengal was severely criticized for offering puja and accepting prasad from a Hindu priest, during last parliamentary election.
Boldly combining modern education and ethos with religious teachings, thousands of poor students benefit from scholarships for higher education, under his leadership. Vastanvi has been personally behind construction of about 4500 mosques across India.
His, brainchild Jamia Islamia Ishaatul Uloom plans to double the intake of students in all major courses of management, engineering, teaching, medicine and pharmacy. About 15 institutes being ran in Akkalkua alone are modern campuses of swanky buildings with international look and Internet connections. A 100 Cr (about 23 Million US $) Medical University is coming up in Jalana.
His supporters are convinced that, he is also being punished for displaying a new vision and imparting modern education to the student, an age old anathema to old guards of Indian Muslims Leaders, who abhor changes and love old ways.
Other the other side, even during last January when the controversy exploded, influential old boys' forum of Deoband announced that they would come out in strong opposition of the Shura Council if it decided to press for Vastanvi's resignation.
Deoband has never been free from such fierce inner wrangling, but a new bench mark has been established. During the controversy, dissensions were also hotly debated among the ordinary’ Muslims, unlike in the past, when these issues had remained largely limited to the insular clerics themselves. His appointment and removal is internal matter of Darul UIoom as well as an indicator of how the Indian Muslim community is grappling with the visible change in the leadership.
If we view the related events and discourse in the larger prospective, a welcome shift is indeed visible. The new breed of Indian Muslim leadership is bursting out and trying to redefine, the popular but highly dysfunctional, divisive, age old cast iron narrative built and nurtured on perennial angst, conflicts and pains of past.
If his elevation as rector, a consensual candidate, though part of an on going internal power struggle, was seen as significant development, signalling the belated arrival of new leadership. The eviction showed that the old guards were deft in exploiting the opportunity to revive their hold. Elevation of Vastanvi was also seen as result of an attempt to deftly blunt and gradually remove the six decade hold of Arshad Madani and his family.
Being the first outsider to head the important institution, liberal Vastanvi is also the first non north India, non Sayed and non Shaikh person to head the seminary. Many students, who remained his silent supporters, were hoping that he would some how be revamping the old, uninspiring syllabus and make it more in tune with demands of time.
Many Liberal Muslims intellectuals, have reported to have privately lambasted the well known political mechanization, intrigue, culture of malice and antagonism of Arshad Madani to maintain and regain the hold over the institution; he fancies as his own family heirloom.
The struggle is with in family too, as he is closely related to Arshad Madani. With out naming his relative and rival, Vastanvi has expressed strong views against treating a community asset as own for personal benefits.
The Urdu press has vehemently opposed Vastanvi for the unpardonable, cardinal sin committed by praising the on going development in Gujarat and its accrued benefits to Muslims. The collective print media onslaught is believed to have been engineered by supporters of Arshad Madani.
Few Urdu newspapers who praised Vastanvi are being severely ridiculed for their Qadiyani behavior, and his supporters are termed as Saffron minded moderates.
Veteran journalist M. J. Akbar has called Vastanvi a remarkable person, who has demonstrated ability and skills to address problems of the community.
Ameer Raza Husain, the noted theatre director wanted the freedom of speech be respected and appealed for a reasonable response.
Barbara Metcalf, writer of Deobandism and author of the brilliant A Concise History of India, opined that arrival of Vastanvi on stage signals a ‘breath of fresh air’ to counter the traditional scholars, or the ‘old guard’. She has acknowledged his credentials and skills in addressing what the new generation of Indian Muslims have been saying are their real interests: education, employment and integration into the mainstream.
Anwar Ali, an advocate has expressed his support in followings words on Milli Gazette:
“The importance of ‘difference of opinions’ and ‘principled or constructive opposition’ is something else but dirty and stinking politics based on selfishness and malice is distasteful to every one. The words and sentences too that are used for Vastanvi Saheb are below the level of decency. They are in negation of all canons of civility and ethics. As a lawyer, I would advise Vastanvi Saheb to file a criminal case of contempt against all those people in a civil court. Those leaders and ulama who are collecting wealth from within and outside the country and monopolizing Darul Uloom Deoband do not want to see Molvi Vastanvi as its rector.”
Rehan Ali and his brother Mavi Ali scions of an old zamindar family from Deoband , said they will file a Public Interest Litigation in the Supreme Court against Vastanvi's dismissal and get well known lawyer and activist Prashant Bhushan to contest the case.
Supporters of Vastanvi are becoming hot potatoes for the political parties, who have played minority card and vote bank politics . As a result Mavi was immediately thrown out from Samajvadi Party after he criticized Vastanvi's rival Arshad Madni and reposing faith in the liberal-reformist Gujarat cleric.
But the well known old guards and perennially angry Marxists were quick to mouth age old angst and anger along with total agreement that this MBA-Facebookwala is not the right man to head the respected seminary.
Kamal Farooqi ridiculed the repeated mention and importance given to his MBA degree by the media and found his removal justified.
Marxist Shabnam Hashmi breathed fire and strongly denounced him and his misdeeds
Prof J S Bandukwala, president of the Gujarat People Union for Civil Liberty, welcomed the move. “I am glad that Vastanvi is no longer heading the Darul Uloom”.
Website Bismillahnews has reacted with following words::
“Heartening is the decision by Saudi Arabian Newspapers particularly Arab News and Saudi Gazzate to ignore the News of Vastanvi totally,there was no coverage in major Arab Newspapers.The main business of Vastanvi Inshallah of collecting donations from Muslims countries will also be immensely effected because of his nexus with BJP an anti-Muslim,anti-Madrasa education party. Madrasa’s in India exist with Allahs blessing and Inshallah would continue to flourish,despite the agents of Hunood, Yahood and Nasara trying their best with money power to change the curriculum of these madarasa’s to suit hunood,yahood and Nasara. May the enemies of Madarasa’s, maloon, mardoods, in the name of producing Engineer’s,Doctor’s,MBA’s be cursed by almighty Allah for distorting Quranic teachings and Allahs deen.Ameen.Summa Ameen.”
In recent past the seminary has found itself embroiled in controversies about extension of regressive beliefs and biases along with new emerging threats.
Talaq:
Last year, the seminary has been criticized for turning itself in to a fatwa Factory, promoting the most regressive ideals and thereby ruining countless marriages along with a sense of fear among women. Darul Uloom opined that even if a person has uttered the word ‘talaq’ thrice and his wife couldn’t hear it, the divorce takes place.
Ahmadiyas:
Early this month, Darul Uloom has asked the Saudi Arabian government to ban Ahmadiyas (Qadiyanis) from visiting Makkah and Madinah to perform Haj and Umrah (mini-Haj). The seminary's vice-rector has alleged that many Qadiyanis from India disguise themselves as Muslims, they are misguided and may mislead other Muslims.
Qadiyanis have been declared non-Muslims in countries like Pakistan from times of ZA Bhutto and face severe prosecution, oppression and cyclic massacre .
Tahreek-e-Taliban Hindustan:
There is an email message floating on net from a so-called Tahreek Taliban Hindustan, using the Darul Uloom Deoband insignia, circulating the following message:
“This Country ‘India’ was never a nation of Hindus. It was ruled and governed by Muslims for hundreds of years. And we the students of Tahreek-e-Taliban-Hindusthan, demand that the Muslim majority areas should be and must be ruled according to the Sharia Law. Therefore we pass This verdict from today onwards that all the non-Muslim living in Muslim majority areas should start paying ‘JAZIYAH".You have only three choices: (1) Convert to our great faith ‘Islam” and u will be safe. (2) Or pay the Jaziyah on our terms and conditions and live. (3) Or accept our challenge and fight us on the battle field.”
The seminary has quickly distanced itself and denounced the mischievous email and its lunatic message. The mischief mongers or a radicalized fringe group of Indian Muslims could be behind this attempt to create fear and communal disharmony in India.
According to an article in The Economist, These days Gujarat accounts for 5% of India's population but 16% of its industrial output and 22% of its exports. Its growth has outpaced India's and it wins accolades from business people. A recent comparison of Indian states by McKinsey, a consultancy, waxed lyrical about Gujarat. It might yet play the role of industrial locomotive for the country, as Guangdong province did for China in the 1990s. There is lots of excited talk about exporters switching from China to India. Sanjay Lalbhai, the chairman of Arvind, a textiles maker and clothing retailer based in Ahmadabad, says such a move is "imminent" in his industry.
A new age leader of Indian Muslims, has certainly arrived and sure to make his presence felt and provide the much needed balance during important future discourses or conflicts. He can not be a lone passenger in his torturous journey from obscurity to prominence and there are others with same vision and zeal to address the myriad problems.
Vastanvi has thundered, “I am not some one be taken lightly, as no one can dent my resolve to be truthful and do the right work for the community.”
Having achieved the prominence and firing the imagination, it is yet to be seen, how he conducts himself and guides his swelling vocal and silent followers towards the lofty goals.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Wielding a Lathi in London
Tilak Raj Sharma, an ex footballer from Punjab had migrated to England years ago. Obviously he went through whatever a strong willed sturdy migrant does in an opportune foreign land. I never asked much as he was a fiercely private person, yet occasionally prone to bouts of bragging, telling bits and pieces of his story.
Sharmaji adored his two well built sons and two perky daughters. The younger son, a budding kick boxer could kick a steep six feet high with a powerful muted cry of Jai Hanuman and would send an imaginary opponent repent his misdeeds forever. By mid eighties, when he was my host in London, a sizable rent from hard earned properties made his life comfortable at fifty plus. But it was not an easy life either, dealing with ever changing shady tenants from various continents. They didn’t mind him paying what he asked, with out being inquisitive.
Further he loved to devote his considerable time and resources to help Indian friends in midst of any serious crisis.
While the boys had freedom to attend late night parties with fast changing girlfriends, the grown up daughters were a constant source of grave worries. He repeatedly asked me to find good matches for them in India fast. I lamely assured him to do just that back in India. But the girls secretly disapproved of his weird plan to get them married to unknown boys from India. Behind his back they requested me not to look for any boys.
“Papa is so impossibly weird and he will never allow us to mix with boys we want to be like any other girls and experience life, don’t want to get married so early, there is so much to see and experience. He controls us so closely… and look...brothers Ronny and Mony have all the freedom they are allowed night outs with girlfriends and we have nothing he is still stuck in some lousy Panjabi village I am friendly with few boys. Can’t help it, its so natural and not a big deal here.”
The rebellious Richa poured her worries when Sharmaji went away early one morning.
“Don’t try to compete with your brothers. We are Indian and have different culture than these corrupt English people.” Mrs. Sharma softly reminded Richa.
“Oh yea different of course I know we are a bunch of horrible hypocrites and what about the many secret affairs of so called honorable Indian couples? Don’t tell me, you don’t know who is sleeping around with whom.”
“None of your business, you have no shame Richa, and we parents know what is good for you, isn’t it Bhaisaab?”
A troubled Mrs. Sharma feebly tried to defend her draconian husband and looked at me for support. I had to a give a small nod but preferred to be silent; devouring tasty butter soaked spiced paranthas.
“He has no right to insult my friends. Patrick only come to see me when I was ill and you know how he was insulted. Its awful and I hate it, my friends think we are weird.”
“He is your father and has every right how many times I have told you not to let any boys visit home. Pratibha knows this and obeys papa, why can’t you be like her?”
Mrs. Sharma tried to reason and seemed quite peeved at her younger daughter discussing her boyfriends in my presence.
“You mean discreet? I am honest and don’t hide and you know she is friendly with few boys too, I know when she lost her virginity and to whom, it’s so natural, but she is a real sissy and terribly afraid of papa.”
“Shut up Richa, that’s enough. How dare you called me dishonest.” An angry Pratibha tried to stop her rebellious sister.
“I didn’t say any thing like that sis…”
“No, you did, horrible bitch…”
The verbal dual fast deteriorated to the extent of the combative girls using forbidden four letter words. A helplessly ashamed Mrs. Sharma was in tears.
“Shut up both of you if your father comes to know about such shameful things he will kill you. I wish you shameless girls were never born but it his own fault to let you both live…”
“And what do exactly mean by...we were never born…haan…tell us mama..” Richa was in tears.
“Just shut up you know what I meant and you are living and hell bent on making me feels so much of shame leave me alone now…”
Richa pushed the chair back violently and rushed upstairs. Pratibha was immobile hiding her face, weeping silently.
I had already lost the appetite and was feeling uncomfortable and uneasy by sudden disclosures of family secrets.
“Bhai sahab, please don’t tell any one these are the hidden torments we suffer here foolish girls. I am so sorry I know they will go away with one of these boys they have no feelings for their father who loves them in his own way. He wont be able to bear.”
I nodded and silently slipped out to avoid further embarrassments.
Oblivious of the simmering discontent and secretes of his dear daughters, Sharmaji along with few equally motivated souls did impossible and dangerous tasks to save the brittle honor of bewildered and helpless Indian parents shocked by elopement of their teenager daughters with those devious Firangs of various back grounds and colors.
He kept one well oiled Lathi in each of his four cars to confront any miscreants in his not so honorable neighborhood and elsewhere. His limp came handy in explaining presence of the weapon to any curious policeman, as it also doubled as his walking stick.
“This is my late grand father’s hundred year old walking stick and through it I feel him nearby, any problems about that, officer?”
The suspicious policeman would nod, force an understanding smile, wave and turn away.
“You see this is the way to deal with these foolish
Englishmen. Give them emotional and historical garbage and they turn soft but not all, some are really mean bastards too happy to trouble us endlessly.”
His popularity and respect cut across among the regionally and linguistically divided Indians of the city. He some times did give me exclusive permission of witnessing some of his not so legal activities. That made me roam through markets, pubs and take nap in his parked car for hours, while he was busy helping Indians in difficult situations. He and his gang of young Indian boys would keep an eye and thrash any miscreants during community Diwali and Holi celebrations.
A south Indian doctor couple was in tears explaining how much they trusted their daughter, pursuing doctorate in anthropology and how they were deceived by her. She went missing with her African boy friend and had not even bothered to inform them. May be it was their misfortune to have a daughter in this permissive land of butter and honey and to experience the horrible trauma she had just subjected her unsuspecting loving parents.
Sharmaji was furious and severely reprimanded them for allowing an unholy friendship to grow with an African and now bothering him with their misery
The couple repeatedly appealed with folded hands, touched his feet and begged for the help, as the police would not interfere in the matters concerning two consenting adults.
Sharmaji asked me to be on my own as he went about discharging his responsibility with zeal of a true savior of Indian honor. After few days the girl was back with her parents after the adventurous African was suitably thrashed to repent his folly of seducing a demure Indian girl. A proud Sharmaji later told me how he had used his well oiled Lathi to overpower the well built suitor. His son was helpful in delivering a hard kick to the unsuspecting African and the girl was freed with out much trouble.
For Sharmaji and his gang, dealing with the demure African with an expired visa was a cake walk. He happily described the events in great details enabling me to visualize few important scenes. The African, a scholarly loner not having any links with gangs of his tribe was petrified by threats of him being linked with dreaded drug trafficking.
The gusty tall girl threatened Sharmaji with dire consequences as she would report the matter to the police.
“You fucking dog asshole. How dare you?”
An angry Sharmaji sprang up and gave her few hard slaps.
“This is shameful, a girl abusing elders, I will kill my daughters if they utter such filthy worlds.”
Sharmaji was livid with anger as the couple begged him to forgive the stupid girl.
“Don’t forget to keep an eye on and marry her off fast. You have only one day, better you hurry up and take next flight to India.”
“I hate you guys, how could you allow this brute?”
The girl stopped speaking as Sharmaji raised his bony hand again to hit her. He brazenly brushed off girl’s threats and asked the parents to keep her locked in a room with out a phone and arrange to marry her off fast before she would bring more dishonor to them. The relieved couple thanked him for his help.
I secretly despised what he did to that girl and many others before her, but could not even dare to stop or discourage him at all. Any such foolish attempts of mine would have surely invited his deep anger laced with volley of choicest Panjabi gaalis. I also dreaded as a consequence, the sure termination of his much needed comfortable hospitality in a foreign land. The small window he provided to view life of some of the Indian Diasporas was also of great value. So I willfully resigned myself to being a silent privileged witness.
When I asked wasn’t it dangerous to use strong arm tactics in this law abiding country, his answer was typically Indian: Jiski Lathi Uski Bhains.
He practiced this universal truth and his good connections within the police saw him through these small problems.
The girl was some how cajoled, persuaded to get over her infatuation, drugged and transported to madras to be married off to a New York based green card.
Later she divorced the green card and joined her lover in Canada. They lived together for few years and gradually parted away.
True to her independent spirits Richa, dated and married her Shri Lankan classmate. Sharmaji was deeply hurt but gradually manage to forgive her. Pratibha didn’t mind an arranged marriage with a bright Panjabi doctor, produced by her loving father.
Last I heard of Sharmaji, he was in some real deep trouble with the British police.
Sharmaji adored his two well built sons and two perky daughters. The younger son, a budding kick boxer could kick a steep six feet high with a powerful muted cry of Jai Hanuman and would send an imaginary opponent repent his misdeeds forever. By mid eighties, when he was my host in London, a sizable rent from hard earned properties made his life comfortable at fifty plus. But it was not an easy life either, dealing with ever changing shady tenants from various continents. They didn’t mind him paying what he asked, with out being inquisitive.
Further he loved to devote his considerable time and resources to help Indian friends in midst of any serious crisis.
While the boys had freedom to attend late night parties with fast changing girlfriends, the grown up daughters were a constant source of grave worries. He repeatedly asked me to find good matches for them in India fast. I lamely assured him to do just that back in India. But the girls secretly disapproved of his weird plan to get them married to unknown boys from India. Behind his back they requested me not to look for any boys.
“Papa is so impossibly weird and he will never allow us to mix with boys we want to be like any other girls and experience life, don’t want to get married so early, there is so much to see and experience. He controls us so closely… and look...brothers Ronny and Mony have all the freedom they are allowed night outs with girlfriends and we have nothing he is still stuck in some lousy Panjabi village I am friendly with few boys. Can’t help it, its so natural and not a big deal here.”
The rebellious Richa poured her worries when Sharmaji went away early one morning.
“Don’t try to compete with your brothers. We are Indian and have different culture than these corrupt English people.” Mrs. Sharma softly reminded Richa.
“Oh yea different of course I know we are a bunch of horrible hypocrites and what about the many secret affairs of so called honorable Indian couples? Don’t tell me, you don’t know who is sleeping around with whom.”
“None of your business, you have no shame Richa, and we parents know what is good for you, isn’t it Bhaisaab?”
A troubled Mrs. Sharma feebly tried to defend her draconian husband and looked at me for support. I had to a give a small nod but preferred to be silent; devouring tasty butter soaked spiced paranthas.
“He has no right to insult my friends. Patrick only come to see me when I was ill and you know how he was insulted. Its awful and I hate it, my friends think we are weird.”
“He is your father and has every right how many times I have told you not to let any boys visit home. Pratibha knows this and obeys papa, why can’t you be like her?”
Mrs. Sharma tried to reason and seemed quite peeved at her younger daughter discussing her boyfriends in my presence.
“You mean discreet? I am honest and don’t hide and you know she is friendly with few boys too, I know when she lost her virginity and to whom, it’s so natural, but she is a real sissy and terribly afraid of papa.”
“Shut up Richa, that’s enough. How dare you called me dishonest.” An angry Pratibha tried to stop her rebellious sister.
“I didn’t say any thing like that sis…”
“No, you did, horrible bitch…”
The verbal dual fast deteriorated to the extent of the combative girls using forbidden four letter words. A helplessly ashamed Mrs. Sharma was in tears.
“Shut up both of you if your father comes to know about such shameful things he will kill you. I wish you shameless girls were never born but it his own fault to let you both live…”
“And what do exactly mean by...we were never born…haan…tell us mama..” Richa was in tears.
“Just shut up you know what I meant and you are living and hell bent on making me feels so much of shame leave me alone now…”
Richa pushed the chair back violently and rushed upstairs. Pratibha was immobile hiding her face, weeping silently.
I had already lost the appetite and was feeling uncomfortable and uneasy by sudden disclosures of family secrets.
“Bhai sahab, please don’t tell any one these are the hidden torments we suffer here foolish girls. I am so sorry I know they will go away with one of these boys they have no feelings for their father who loves them in his own way. He wont be able to bear.”
I nodded and silently slipped out to avoid further embarrassments.
Oblivious of the simmering discontent and secretes of his dear daughters, Sharmaji along with few equally motivated souls did impossible and dangerous tasks to save the brittle honor of bewildered and helpless Indian parents shocked by elopement of their teenager daughters with those devious Firangs of various back grounds and colors.
He kept one well oiled Lathi in each of his four cars to confront any miscreants in his not so honorable neighborhood and elsewhere. His limp came handy in explaining presence of the weapon to any curious policeman, as it also doubled as his walking stick.
“This is my late grand father’s hundred year old walking stick and through it I feel him nearby, any problems about that, officer?”
The suspicious policeman would nod, force an understanding smile, wave and turn away.
“You see this is the way to deal with these foolish
Englishmen. Give them emotional and historical garbage and they turn soft but not all, some are really mean bastards too happy to trouble us endlessly.”
His popularity and respect cut across among the regionally and linguistically divided Indians of the city. He some times did give me exclusive permission of witnessing some of his not so legal activities. That made me roam through markets, pubs and take nap in his parked car for hours, while he was busy helping Indians in difficult situations. He and his gang of young Indian boys would keep an eye and thrash any miscreants during community Diwali and Holi celebrations.
A south Indian doctor couple was in tears explaining how much they trusted their daughter, pursuing doctorate in anthropology and how they were deceived by her. She went missing with her African boy friend and had not even bothered to inform them. May be it was their misfortune to have a daughter in this permissive land of butter and honey and to experience the horrible trauma she had just subjected her unsuspecting loving parents.
Sharmaji was furious and severely reprimanded them for allowing an unholy friendship to grow with an African and now bothering him with their misery
The couple repeatedly appealed with folded hands, touched his feet and begged for the help, as the police would not interfere in the matters concerning two consenting adults.
Sharmaji asked me to be on my own as he went about discharging his responsibility with zeal of a true savior of Indian honor. After few days the girl was back with her parents after the adventurous African was suitably thrashed to repent his folly of seducing a demure Indian girl. A proud Sharmaji later told me how he had used his well oiled Lathi to overpower the well built suitor. His son was helpful in delivering a hard kick to the unsuspecting African and the girl was freed with out much trouble.
For Sharmaji and his gang, dealing with the demure African with an expired visa was a cake walk. He happily described the events in great details enabling me to visualize few important scenes. The African, a scholarly loner not having any links with gangs of his tribe was petrified by threats of him being linked with dreaded drug trafficking.
The gusty tall girl threatened Sharmaji with dire consequences as she would report the matter to the police.
“You fucking dog asshole. How dare you?”
An angry Sharmaji sprang up and gave her few hard slaps.
“This is shameful, a girl abusing elders, I will kill my daughters if they utter such filthy worlds.”
Sharmaji was livid with anger as the couple begged him to forgive the stupid girl.
“Don’t forget to keep an eye on and marry her off fast. You have only one day, better you hurry up and take next flight to India.”
“I hate you guys, how could you allow this brute?”
The girl stopped speaking as Sharmaji raised his bony hand again to hit her. He brazenly brushed off girl’s threats and asked the parents to keep her locked in a room with out a phone and arrange to marry her off fast before she would bring more dishonor to them. The relieved couple thanked him for his help.
I secretly despised what he did to that girl and many others before her, but could not even dare to stop or discourage him at all. Any such foolish attempts of mine would have surely invited his deep anger laced with volley of choicest Panjabi gaalis. I also dreaded as a consequence, the sure termination of his much needed comfortable hospitality in a foreign land. The small window he provided to view life of some of the Indian Diasporas was also of great value. So I willfully resigned myself to being a silent privileged witness.
When I asked wasn’t it dangerous to use strong arm tactics in this law abiding country, his answer was typically Indian: Jiski Lathi Uski Bhains.
He practiced this universal truth and his good connections within the police saw him through these small problems.
The girl was some how cajoled, persuaded to get over her infatuation, drugged and transported to madras to be married off to a New York based green card.
Later she divorced the green card and joined her lover in Canada. They lived together for few years and gradually parted away.
True to her independent spirits Richa, dated and married her Shri Lankan classmate. Sharmaji was deeply hurt but gradually manage to forgive her. Pratibha didn’t mind an arranged marriage with a bright Panjabi doctor, produced by her loving father.
Last I heard of Sharmaji, he was in some real deep trouble with the British police.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Seed Newsvine
