Parekh-ji sat on his wonderful magic cushion. There was pin-drop silence. Ish
cracked his knuckle once. Omi gave him a dirty look. Everyone closed their eyes,
apart from me. I looked around while everyone chanted in Sanskrit. They ended
their chants after a minute and Parekh-ji began his speech.
'Welcome devotees, welcome to my humble home. I want to especially welcome
the team on the right from the Sindhipur temple. They have returned from kar
seva in Ayodhya for over a month. Let us bow to them and seek blessings.'
Everyone bowed to a group of six saffrons holding trishuls.
Parekh-ji continued, 'We also have some young people today. We need them
badly. Thanks to Bittoo Mama, who brought them. Bittoo is working hard for the
party. He will support our candidate Hasmukh-ji for the election next year.'
Everyone looked at us and gave smiling nods. We nodded back.
'Devotees, the Hindu religion teaches us to bear a lot. And we do bear a lot. So,
today's discussion is "How much bearing is enough? Until when does a Hindu
keep bearing pain?'"
Everyone nodded. My knees were stiff with pain from sitting cross-legged. I
wondered if I should stop bearing pain right then and stretch my legs.
'Our scriptures tell us not to harm others,' Parekh-ji said. 'They teach us
acceptance of all faiths, even if those faiths do not accept us. They teach us
patience. Thousands of years ago, our wise men thought of such wonderful
values, valid even today. And today you great men pass on these values to
society,' Parekh-ji said, gesturing at the priests. The priests nodded.
'At the same time, the scriptures also tell us not to bear injustice. The Gita
tells Arjun to fight a virtuous war. So at some point we are meant to fight back.
When is that point is something to think about.'
Vigorous nods shook the crowd. Even though I found the whole gathering and
the magic red cushion a bit over the top, Parekh-ji's logic was flawless.
'And right now, I see that injustice again. Hindus being asked to compromise,
to accept, to bear. Hindus asked for the resurrection of one temple. Not any
temple, a temple where one of our most revered gods was born. But they won't
give it to us. We said we will move the mosque respectfully, round the corner. But
no, that was considered unreasonable. We tried to submit proof; but that was
suppressed. Is this justice? Should we keep bearing it? I am just an old man, I
don't have the answers.'
Ish whispered in my ear, 'It is politics, man. Just pure simple politics.'
Parekh-ji continued: 'I don't even want to go into who this country belongs to.
Because the poor Hindu is accustomed to being ruled by someone else - 700
years by Muslims, 250 years by the British. We are independent now, but the
Hindu does not assert himself. But what makes me sad is that we are not even
treated as equals. They call themselves secular, but they give preference to the
Muslims? We fight for equal treatment and are called communal? The most
brutal terrorists are Muslim, but they say we are hardliners. More Hindu kids
sleep hungry every night than Muslim, but they say Muslims are downtrodden.'
Parekh-ji stopped to have a glass of water. 'They say to me, Parekh-ji, why do
you know so many politicians? I say, I am a servant of God. I didn't want to join
politics. But if I as a Hindu want justice, I need to get involved in how the country
is rum. And what other way is there to get involved than join politics? So, here I
am half saffron, half white - at your service.'
avery
(avery)
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