How to preach nonviolence

Like most government institutions in India, the Archaeological Survey of India [ASI] has also become a gigantic joke. The national surveyors of India’s famed antiquity go around finding all sorts of Hindu relics in Muslim mosques. Like a Shiv Ling [Lord Shiva’s penis] which may in reality be a rotting piece of a Mughal fountain.

One of the recent discoveries of Modi’s national surveyors is that Sambhal in UP is the birthplace of Kalki, the tenth incarnation of God Vishnu. I haven’t understood yet whether Kalki was born in Sambhal at some time in India’s great antique history or Kalki is going to be born in Sambhal at some time in the imminent future. What I know is that Kalki is the final incarnation of Vishnu that is going to put an end to the present wicked Kali Yuga led by people like Modi Inc. Kalki will begin the next era, Satya Yuga, the Era of Truth. So he is yet to be born.

But a year back, in Feb to be precise, Modi laid the foundation stone of a temple dedicated to Kalki in Sambhal and said that just as the legacy of Lord Rama’s reign lasted thousands of years, now “Kalki Bhagwan will determine our legacy for the next thousands of years.” I did almost a PhD on this and found out that Modi is going to be God Kalki’s obstetrician.

“Kalki will be born in Sambhal,” Modi declared with his characteristic panache. And so the Muslim mosque there had to go. So the ASI excavated Sambhal’s history and came out with a discovery: the 500-year-old Shahi Jama Masjid there was the birthplace of Kalki in God Vishnu’s timetable that is eternal and words like ‘past’ and ‘future’ have no relevance in eternity.

 Modi constructed a grand temple for God Rama in Ayodhya a few years back. Now another grand temple will come up for God Kalki. And Kalki is going to clean up the whole planet. That’s the purpose of his incarnation. So, will we require more temples?

I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I hear the constant sloganeering of Ayodhya toh jhanki hai / Kashi, Mathura bhaki hai: Ayodhya is just a preview, Varanasi and Mathura are left. That means there are going to be temples constructed for Shiva and Krishna too. My PhD on this is revealing that many more gods are waiting for new temples built by India’s present Shahensha in Aligarh, Badaun, Bulandshahar, Jaunpur, Muzzafarnagar. Mysteriously, they are all places in Uttar Pradesh, though Uttarakhand is the Abode of Gods according to tourist pamphlets. Maybe, gods for tourists are different from those for the countrymen. My PhD is still continuing.

As I take a break from my intensive research on the divine origins of my country’s greatness, a flashback arises in the dark chambers of my consciousness. It is the penultimate day of my annual exam in my primary school. I’m returning home after the exam. I have to cross the stream that skirts our land. There is a bridge made of wooden logs and timber. A few logs are missing and a few others are antique enough to give way at any time. Two of my classmates want to assault me on that bridge. It was a kind of custom in those days: you settle all scores before the school closes for the two-month long annual vacation.

I defended myself. In other words, there was a childish squabble. The daughter of our maid servant who was also my classmate witnessed the event and reported it to her mother who in turn reported it to my mother who promptly reported it to my father. By the time all the reports were over, I was in school again for my last exam of the year, of the school in fact. I was going to leave primary school and get into middle school.

I was summoned to the headmistress’s office during the exam. A few lashes from the headmistress for the fight on the antique bridge on the previous day. When the headmistress’s indignation subsided, my father took over. Another few lashes with the cane. Nobody asked me why the fisticuff had taken place. I used violence and that was wrong, whatever the reason.

I used violence. It was wrong. So? They, my headmistress who was a fervent Catholic nun and my father who was a daily churchgoer, inflicted more violence on me to teach me nonviolence.

Whenever Modi begins to preach religion, this flashback lights up the tinsel screen of my aging brain.