In the dark room, my eyes tried to focus on the email that I had just received from Youth Ki Awaaz. It was different from all the other emails that they sent me. Well, it asked me to write on the blessing for all the couple’s, and a pain for all the singles out there, yes February 14.
But with a twist, here I had to write about the sudden obsession of Bollywood and soon-to-be poets, “ek tarfa pyaar” or one-sided love.
Sighing, I put the phone back as I plugged in the title track of Parizaad and wrapped myself in the blanket. Now I am no sucker for romance and definitely, the song wasn’t romantic but my mind couldn’t help but think about the way my eyes followed him in the long corridor, the sudden butterflies that I got when he first said “Hey“, the adrenaline rush that I had when I sneaked to get my mom’s phone. Ugh, I shook my head in an attempt to stop thinking over it.
Times have changed and so has the song. “Aaj bazaar mein” by Faiz Ahmad Faiz played in my ears as I thought how futile and cruel it’ll be to write about something as small as one-sided love when the world around me had been lit on fire.
I don’t have the luxury of writing about love, when the likes of me are even struggling to breathe, living a life that is engulfed by strong hands of fear and uncertainty.
So I pressed my mind, what could be something, with which I have “ek tarfa pyaar (one-sided love)”?
After racking my brain for days, I thought what else could it be other than the place with whom I have had a relationship since I opened my eyes in this world. The place that has made me question things and just like a crush has taken me to the highest point of my emotions and at times, made me drop flat on my back. The place who I had to defend from time to time? So I decide not to bore you with the ek tarfa pyaar that I had back in class 12th.
Instead, I decided to write about the ek tarfa pyaar that I will always have, for the rest of my life, with none other than, India.
You see, the hero of my life, decided to be with me ever since I opened my eyes. And unlike other heroes that you see on your screens, in the tacky Bollywood movies, my hero, you can call him India (what I call him, is another thing) was never present with me physically, hovering above my head. But like a good lover, he always made sure I felt him, at the start, only on independence and republic days. when I got my favourite, orange ladoo.
When The Othering Began, And I Felt Cheated
However, as I grew older, his presence began to draw upon me quite notably. It began when I was in Class 5. I’d feel immensely proud and loved but the only flicker of setback that I had was in 8th when I decided to wear hijab.
It was the day most of us dreaded, the Parent Teachers Association (PTA) and as I stood beside my sister, the principal told my sister that I’m not allowed to wear hijab as it makes the “other” students feel awkward.
I felt a sudden feeling of embarrassment and anger gushing up inside of me. I told my sister that I had taken permission already from the section in-charge.
“Keep quiet,” she hushed me. “But Appi…” I huffed as I strode up to my class and opened my civics book just to look at the constitution, the word secular to be exact and wondering why did my sister not object?
When I look back now, I know she was protecting me by not telling me why she hushed me and did not protest. I wish I was courageous enough to hold onto it, like my dear sisters doing right now.
India Never Loved Me, My Belief That It Did Was An Illusion
Growing up, his presence became all the more evident. And just like how you desire your crush to love you back, but he treats you like a disease. You know you have to let go of him but you can’t and every time he hurts you, you decide – no more. You struggle with the love, and then he gets you flowers and your heart is all over the place again.
The same is my relationship with India.
When my friend called me a terrorist, I assured myself that he was a lone case. When Junaid was lynched, I assured myself that justice will be served but when Tabrez was lynched, I knew I had to stand and protect the country that I felt was my own.
But when Babri verdict came out, I knew my ek tarfa pyaar didn’t manage to melt my crush’s heart. It didn’t get to him and all my notions that he loved me deep down was nothing but just an illusion. An illusion that many Muslims like me had.
But as a hopeless romantic, I continued to love and protect it in any way I could. Then came in the CAA-NRC, Sulli and Bulli deals and now the hijab controversy which is nothing but an attempt to erase us.
It often makes me wonder. It’s been 22 years of my life, 75 years after independence and decades of us living here. Giving this place our blood, sweat and love, I fail to realise, it’s been so long of us loving this place. It’s been so long since I’ve been in this ek tarfa pyaar, ab tak toh pyaar ho hi jaana chahiye tha? (I’ve been in this one-sided love for so long. I should’ve been loved back until now)
I struggle to love this place, in my ek tarfa pyaar for this place but like a hopeless romantic I will continue to do so.
As I struggle to find reasons to love this place, I’ve realised that the flowers he is giving me now is lotus, while my heart just beats for rose.
PS – I call him Hindustan.