Learning the other Way

Remember "Amar Akbar Anthony" the blockbuster of late 70s. This movie was my first hand knowledge base of what Hindu, Muslim and Christian means.

I went to catholic school and had seen Church in my school premises. Occasional free period, had rushed to the church room with my best friend. The serenity of the room with light weight net curtains that hanged from the long length windows attracted me more than anything. It taught me patience. I used to enact the God-Cross the way Amitabh Bachchan did as Anthony - the little that I could do like him. Jesus and Mother Mary used to stare the same way till I last meet them on our school leaving celebration day.

In parallel on a few weekends and on special days went to temple with parents. Ma had so many accessories which invariably spilled to my hands. The preferred one was the palm basket which had seasonal flowers of all size, shape and form. All these temples never had one God – it had one super deity and many surrounding it. We moved in circles to offer flowers to all of them, at times wondering if they would give me more. They taught me coexistence.

In school days wherever I stood I just had one prayer to any of these Gods – “This time didn’t study well, but plzzz help me ... Next time surely would study hard.”

God does listen. From downtown I came to a mega city to be a graduate. Churches became history for me, but got introduced to a few friends from Bangladesh who carried back from vacation ethnic Jamdani sarees on request. But for relation to grow one needs a common base. That never clicked then.

Well, 1992 December was a month of my life. I saw curfew for the first time in my ‘City Of Joy’. A plate of scrambled egg ( Anda Bhujia) in shanties by my Campus charged us Rs150. I had to trade-off calling my mother over a STD, as I was hungry. Dismissing one ‘call’ saved considerable those days.

This became a very debatable space ever since my closing days of college, with a spur over a national issue when I got introduced to how the world of Akbar looks from the eye of an Amar who knows Anthony. Well I was listening to all around, eyes saw what press posted, but my sixth sense said it is different.

Life continued till someday I became a module leader in a software company. We were embarking on a project that management painted as simple, so did customers understood but we knew what a ground zero looks like. I was supposed to lead a team of one. He had been on the ground before me but I was a step above by role. He knew more of the pain and together we had to solve.

It was freezing cold night of Europe. We had a major migration on way. He was supposed to match every Euro that was moved from one storage to the other. I was expecting him in the office, as we had a long night ahead to fix Euro issues for one lakh customers from France, Belgium and Germany. He was missing. Clueless I walked down the road to his apartment (it was more of a guest house). I was infuriated to see him decorating his room with some fancy ribbons.

Even before I could spat some venom on him he said – “Didi, you missed Diwali at home, so did I miss Eid today. Made some ‘Alu Tikkia’ – as that’s all I can prepare. Have some, I would feel at home.”

I freezed more in emotion rather than the falling Fahrenheit! It taught me passion.

Gyan#25 - Joy of respect to other religions is more than just following one religion