https://www.facebook.com/dharitry.phookan/posts/10153643711506900

One has to visit Old Delhi at night to know what India is all about. Two weeks ago, I went to Karims for dinner with a friend. After splurging on meats of various kinds, the unassailable urge to have halwa gripped us both. The waiter, on asked, with a gleam in his eyes said that we will not get good halwa in this side of the town and need to go to Fathepuri to one "lala's" shop. He added with a smile that, if he could, he would go there everyday to have the halwa. The shop closes at 11 PM and in our hurry we decided to take a rickshaw instead of our car. It was 10.40 PM of a dark night, the night after diwali. With the winds on our face, we crossed the crowded lanes near Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India, to reach the quieter lanes of Dariba, deserted by then. The silver ware shops were decorated with flowers and rangoli, remnants of laxmi puja and diwali celebrations of the previous night. A few men from their small trolleys and little rooms served "Pure-veg food". The rickshaw emerges in a bigger main road and we suddenly behold a sight of a decorated gurudwara. Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib, where the 9th Guru of the Sikhs, Guru Tegh Bahadur was beheaded by Aurangzeb for refusing to convert to Islam. The rickshaw was moving as fast as a bike in the road which is always crammed during daytime. And suddenly, it felt like I was seeing Chandni Chowk for the very first time! Just before we reached Fatehpuri, a Baptist Church comes to our view. I learnt that this is the oldest church in Northern India.

Our 20 minutes journey to Fathepuri which started from the lanes of the walled city near the largest mosque of the country continued through the areas demarcated for pure vegeterian hindu businessman to reach a holy site of a martyred Sikh Guru and to finally cross the oldest church in North India. All within 20 minutes! All in an area of 3-4 square Kms! And in all the places what was common, was the festive mood of the people as they continued to burst crackers, still clinging on to whatever remained of Diwali. The narrow lanes, the overcrowded houses, the loud noises of the crackers bursting were accepted as a part of their lives. Nobody complained, just as nobody complains of other festivities that happens throughout the year. Nobody looked scared. I wasn't scared to be in a rickshaw which traveled between places with stark differences of religion, culture and beliefs. Differences which borders on extremes. And yet, everybody, I saw that night, looked like they were at home, at a place where they and their descendants belong.

"This", I said to myself, "is India". This is the India where people of all faiths in the most historically volatile of places have learnt to co-exist, where people have decided to be bigger than their contrasting religion, history and beliefs. This is the India where a muslim waiter of a restaurant that serves the most sumptuous meat in the whole of Delhi tells you with a sparkle in his eyes that, if he had his way, he will have halwa from the lala's shop every single day. The India where people have learnt to absorb into their lives, the best of all the worlds, the best of all the faiths. This India still exists and thrives. Please do not believe in those people who tell you otherwise. Please don't let them take away your pride.

Beatrix Kiddo wrote:https://www.facebook.com/dharitry.phookan/posts/10153643711506900

One has to visit Old Delhi at night to know what India is all about. Two weeks ago, I went to Karims for dinner with a friend. After splurging on meats of various kinds, the unassailable urge to have halwa gripped us both. The waiter, on asked, with a gleam in his eyes said that we will not get good halwa in this side of the town and need to go to Fathepuri to one "lala's" shop. He added with a smile that, if he could, he would go there everyday to have the halwa. The shop closes at 11 PM and in our hurry we decided to take a rickshaw instead of our car. It was 10.40 PM of a dark night, the night after diwali. With the winds on our face, we crossed the crowded lanes near Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India, to reach the quieter lanes of Dariba, deserted by then. The silver ware shops were decorated with flowers and rangoli, remnants of laxmi puja and diwali celebrations of the previous night. A few men from their small trolleys and little rooms served "Pure-veg food". The rickshaw emerges in a bigger main road and we suddenly behold a sight of a decorated gurudwara. Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib, where the 9th Guru of the Sikhs, Guru Tegh Bahadur was beheaded by Aurangzeb for refusing to convert to Islam. The rickshaw was moving as fast as a bike in the road which is always crammed during daytime. And suddenly, it felt like I was seeing Chandni Chowk for the very first time! Just before we reached Fatehpuri, a Baptist Church comes to our view. I learnt that this is the oldest church in Northern India.

Our 20 minutes journey to Fathepuri which started from the lanes of the walled city near the largest mosque of the country continued through the areas demarcated for pure vegeterian hindu businessman to reach a holy site of a martyred Sikh Guru and to finally cross the oldest church in North India. All within 20 minutes! All in an area of 3-4 square Kms! And in all the places what was common, was the festive mood of the people as they continued to burst crackers, still clinging on to whatever remained of Diwali. The narrow lanes, the overcrowded houses, the loud noises of the crackers bursting were accepted as a part of their lives. Nobody complained, just as nobody complains of other festivities that happens throughout the year. Nobody looked scared. I wasn't scared to be in a rickshaw which traveled between places with stark differences of religion, culture and beliefs. Differences which borders on extremes. And yet, everybody, I saw that night, looked like they were at home, at a place where they and their descendants belong.

"This", I said to myself, "is India". This is the India where people of all faiths in the most historically volatile of places have learnt to co-exist, where people have decided to be bigger than their contrasting religion, history and beliefs. This is the India where a muslim waiter of a restaurant that serves the most sumptuous meat in the whole of Delhi tells you with a sparkle in his eyes that, if he had his way, he will have halwa from the lala's shop every single day. The India where people have learnt to absorb into their lives, the best of all the worlds, the best of all the faiths. This India still exists and thrives. Please do not believe in those people who tell you otherwise. Please don't let them take away your pride.

"a tolerant view of india" -- bk's title.

a more apt description and title would have been "the diversity of india."

[size=70]"Please don't let them take away your pride." -- the article quoted.[/size]


[size=70]so long as northpeepals marvel that muslim, christian, and sikh religions and cultures are allowed to exist side by side without being engulfed routinely in violence, as delhi sometimes is, and they need to brag about relatively peaceful days, you do take away my pride.[/size]

real intolerance would mean constantly efforts at land grabbing and ousting the others, or fear of being in each others' areas, or attacking one another on a near-daily basis, violent or otherwise. politically orchestrated violence around elections doesn't count.

swapna/flimflam,

tolerance means anit hindu bigots like you open your eyes and learn to use the scientific facts for objective analysis.

truthbetold wrote:swapna/flimflam,

tolerance means anit hindu bigots like you open your eyes and learn to use the scientific facts for objective analysis.

it's clear that, so long as you characterize indian hindus as "tolerant," you expect gratitude from non-hindus for tolerating their existence in india. who are the hindus to tolerate or not tolerate the others?

btw, who are the "anit hindu bigots?"