Friday 29 July 2005

Sunday, bloody sunday

December 6th, 1992 was a Sunday.

Why this topic, now? I was browsing around and found this. Echoes my sentiments exactly.

Even today, when I think of the sight of the kar sevaks dancing and celebrating at the site at that moment, I feel sick to the stomach. No really. Physically nauseated.

Although I was only 9 or so then, I can distinctly remember the time. It came on the news. Oman T.V. No satellite channels then in Muscat, except for the filthily rich. The significance was so starkly visible that my folks promptly popped in a V.H.S tape into the cassette recorder and preserved those images on magnetic media.

A few days later, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't get the 'religious' hoo-haa around it, but it still sickened me that people could get so happy by destroying something. We children were taught to only bring up, not topple.

A few more days later, the inevitable. Backlash. In Bombay. Following the news of which my mom quietly and quickly recorded M*A*S*H over it.

Even now, I like to believe it was more out of loathing to keep in our home such a reprehensible chapter of India.

And just as Anand puts it, that was the first time - keep in mind I was living in Muscat, Oman since 1989 - I was aware that I'm Hindu, and my friends are Muslims. But I suppose it wasn't as bad as it would have been in India at that point. There wasn't any real tension in the air, just some sort of a *are* you different? More importantly, *why* should you be considered different? Looking back, we were pretty smart children, eh? Never let faith, or its lack thereof, interfere with our cricket in vacant lots...

1 comment:

samudrika said...

Nice post. Just wanted to draw a comparision. I was in Dubai then and a 12 year old girl.

The Muslims in our area had taken out a march but the police quelled it quickly. They told them to got and settle the differences in their country.
I used to go for Arabic tution classes to a Pakistani teacher. My mother did not allow me to go that day.

Other than that, things were normal. Yes, it is a charmed life -that of the NRI in the Middle East.