Taking sides on truth

Taking sides on truth
Renuka Khandekar

There's a song by Munni Begum of Pakistan that's been popular with us for a good twenty years: Ae mere hamnashin.... About three verses down, she husks, Woh yakeenan sunega sadaqat meri, Kya tumhara khuda hai, hamara nahin? (He'll hear my prayer for sure, is He your God -- but not mine?) All this trouble between all of us, for ever so long, in the name of that much-maligned God. And yet, we're like the Six Blind Men of Hindoostan who each felt one part of an elephant and declared it was a rope, a tree, a snake, whatever, because they did not know it was the sum of its parts -- and much beyond. They had no andaaz (measure) of its `elephant-ness'.

I know, I know: every right-thinking Hindu will snap irritably, "Dash it, we say so till we're blue in the face: Ekam sat, viprah bahuda vadanti! (There is One Truth, the wise perceive it in many ways.) Isa vasyam idam sarvam, yat kinchyam jayatyam jagat! (All this, whatever exists in this changing universe, should be covered by the Lord.) Yastu sarvaani bhutaanyaatmanye vaanupasyati! Sarvabhutesu chaatmaanaam tato no vijugupsate! (The wise man beholds all beings in the Self and the Self in all beings; for that reason, he does not dislike anyone.) But what's the point? They do not entertain the possibility of any other point of view but theirs. And they hate us, kill us and speak evil about us, because we worship God in our way and not theirs! But we'll never let them do so again, never!"

By now, the sincere but cheesed-off Hindu has lathered himself into a fine froth of hurt and anger. And -- I say this with my heart in my mouth -- he has this point. That the Hindu approach to God, at the risk of stating the painfully obvious, does not thump its chest and say, One Way, My Way. It hurts and it offends deeply to be preached against. But `Hinduism' is in disgrace because the religion is seen as a by-product of the caste system, whereas as millions of Hindus know very well it is entirely possible to bob one's head at a wayside shivala, to fervently invoke God's intervention in a crisis and yet care two hoots for genealogies.

We Indians are too accustomed to being told how different we are as, say, Hindus and Muslims. I have heard Muslims say this emphatically to me and Hindus too, like a mantra said backwards but spelling the same word -- a palindrome! Hindus turn east to pray, Muslims turn west. Hindus go out head first (when dead), Muslims go out feet first. Our `good' hours and `bad hours' are different, and so on -- till you want to throw up.

Why not consider this instead, it's not in any textbook or political speech: The entire world, including North India, operates on the principle of "left is loose and right is tight" when it comes to turning jewellery screws. But across the Vindhyas, it's the opposite. North Indian women pierce their left nostrils. South Indian women either go the whole hog and pierce both nostrils and the cartilage between for a dangle-drop (the `bulaakku') or pierce only the right nostril. North Indians use their left hands at meal times, to tear rotis. A South Indian would rather starve! North Indians find it difficult to eat rice with their hands, for lack of practice, so they end up doing it rather daintily. In the South we like our food really swimmy, we enjoy giving the rasam a sporting chance to run off the banana leaf before we swoosh it into our mouths. This manoeuvre needs more digital technology than using just your fingertips -- but Northies find it a terrible sight.

There really is no end to our differences. And we have a rock-solid right to them, as reflections of our geography and history. But please can we leave off boxing God like barfi into little gift-packs? Surely Divinity loathes it when we sweat the small stuff.