The Muslim Prime Minister...A Love Story by Abhishek Sinha - HTML preview

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21. Faizan saves the day

 

The morning opened with the eve of Shivratri. Thousands of people came out into various temples to worship their lord. The close had eventually failed before the devotion as the roads and streets of the town got fully packed with the people. Markets were opened and it looked as if people had left their fear at homes and were readily celebrating Shivratri.

Meanwhile, my friends had decided to go through the plan without me. Our job was to target the young guns of the town and turn them into our weapon of ‘hope and peace’ against those sick people. And hence, where one side Zeeshan went to the Muslim university of the town Rameshawar went to Neelkanth University, the leading Hindu university of the town. Although those students were already familiar with us and some of them even supported us too but it was never easy to convince them for truce. In fact, they had already prepared for a full hard-core fatal fight against each other, which was quite shameful as they were students and were supposed to be elements of construction rather than destruction.

“Fardeen nobody wants riot. You lost your own brother in the previous riot. Was that not enough for you that you are inviting the same disaster once again” said Zeeshan convincing Fardeen Sheikh, university leader of MU.

“We didn’t call the war. You asked for it we didn’t. And in a war, we don’t see what is right and what is wrong. Let us show them that this place belongs to us and we rule here. If you really want to prevent riots then tell them to just abide by our rules or pay,” replied Abhay Pratap, leader of NU, when asked the same question by Rameshswar to him.

“There have already been thousands of riots in the town. What change did it bring? Why don’t you people understand? People are in panic. The whole town has been closed. Daily life has already been affected. How much else damage do you want?” asked Zeeshan to Fardeen.

“Damage? You talk about damage. They killed our people, raped our women and you want me to negotiate with them. Hold their hand and start a new era of peace and belief? Just shut your mouth up. I personally want to stain their bodies red with blood. We won’t start the war I promise you that but if they do, even in their dreams, you very well know what we are capable of,” shouted angrily Abhay Pratap at Rameshwar.

“What people are you talking about? Are you out of your bloody mind? What has happened to the wisdom of you insane sick people? Don’t you really know who actually these ‘they’ are? You very well know that most of these wars are organized ones and organized by non-other than those politicians who finance you, buy you for their political interests. Look what you have turned this university into. It appears more a terror factory than an education hub…” shouted back Zeeshan at Fardeen.

“Yeah Yeah Yeah it has turns into a terror factory and perhaps we have become an epitome of war and hatred but like I said we didn’t call for these menaces to the society. They did. And they will have to pay for it as they have done before” replied Abhay to Ram.

Vengeance was sprouting out with the words from their tongue and it seemed impossible to convince either of the two. And before anybody could have continued to attempt further for truce riot had already begun. One of the students who seemed to be severely hurt suddenly entered the scene. We did not need his explanations but his shirt stained red with blood was clearly shouting of the outbreak of that bitter reality which nobody wanted to hear. He came in and fell down unconscious. We sprinkled some water on him.

“Those mongrels…they fired at the Shiva temple. Many people have been wounded” he replied and fell down unconscious again.

“Take him to the hospital. And Arun bring out the swords. Distribute it to everybody. Tell them the war has begun. Go!” shouted Abhay at his people.

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Meanwhile the other side, a mosque was too attacked by the protesters that fuelled the tension from other side too. Many shed their blood, many lost their life and consequently Muslims too prepared for the revenge in similar fashion. The hearts of my friends must have throbbed hundred times per minutes that moment. They did their part the best they could but destiny had set up other plans perhaps. In just few moments, the complete picture of the city changed. Murders, madness, and miseries. They all were back in the town. The innocents ran for their life. Houses were locked. Shops closed. Shutters down. Only the wild animals with madness in their mind and swords in their hands marched in the outside world.

The area within the temple had a vast area around it. The Muslims marched forward to surround the temple while some of the Hindus stayed there and prepared for the fight. The angry mob destroyed everything that came into their way. The houses were burnt, shops looted, markets destroyed. The vehicles, the properties, were all set on fire. In just few hours, the town was smoking all around with ashes. Women were the most affected. Men of both the community crossed their line and targeted the women of opposite community, which was shameful and unmanly. They raped them and fired them. No person was safe. Everyone who was found in their way, they would ask them their religion and kill them if they did not belong to their community. Even the people who had hid themselves in their houses were not safe. The rioters set their houses on fire to burn them alive. And so marching forward to the temple and creating havoc in the whole town they reached to the Shiva temple where people of Hindu community awaited them.

“Get off the way or we kill you,” warned one of the Muslim demonstrators to the people surrounding the temple.

“Go ahead. What you wait for?” replied a Hindu priest from the other side.

The communication before the action was the proof that even after so much of rage and hatred nobody wanted to go ahead and behead those same people who were yesterday ‘friends’. Everybody had shame in their eyes. Their eyes sparkled with tears and humility to witness a day when they were standing against their own people. Everybody had same question in their mind. What happened to that happy and joyful Saharabad? What happened to the unity of the people here? Just yesterday we celebrated the victory of Indian cricket team. Just yesterday we all celebrated Holi together. When the soldier Nadeem lost his life on border, we all wept with his family. Then came Eid, which we all celebrated together. How happy we were. What happened to our happiness?

“On the name of Allah…” shouted a Muslim raising his sword.

“Har Har Mahadev…” responded the Hindus raising their swords in air.

“Hold your attack or we kill ourselves…” I shouted and when people turned around to see what happened they just could not believe their eyes what they instantly saw.

I was accompanied by the entire young brigade i.e. the future of the town with myself. Youths of all age group be it children, college students, boys, girls, everybody and about hundreds in numbers. They all were standing with swords in their hand ready to behead themselves. And these teenagers were not any employees of a circus group or borrowed children from any orphanage. But these were real children of the local people standing the other way to fight each other.

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Before I proceed, I know you would be thinking how did I come into the picture when I was tied in the house. It all got possible due to kaka. When I recalled him his obligation towards Allah he had no options left but to set me free. But on the other hand, he could not untie me and set me free for he was loyal to Abbu. He was confused in making his choice between his duty towards Abbu or his loyalty towards Allah and his people. But the smart old man discovered a third way and using his intelligence, he neither disobeyed his master nor did he betray his God. Kaka simply informed one of my friends (Aarti) of my conditions, she came quickly to set me free, and we hurriedly made it to Gandhi University where I had asked college students of both Muslim University and Neelkanth University to gather.

“What you intend to say we clearly know but it’s too late now. Perhaps your friends have already tried and I suppose you have nothing new to say. So don’t waste my time and your time. This war is a truth, though bitter, but no one can stop it now,” said Fardeen Sheikh to me in the meeting while his supporters hailed on his note.

“Although it never happens often but this time I agree with him. You cannot stop us from rioting,” replied Abhay Pratap to me.

“I haven’t called you here to beg you people not to riot each other. That’s your cup of tea. You deal with it. I just wanted you to realize few facts you would probably face after the riots. I wanted to make you realize the load of the burden you will have to carry with yourself all your life and believe me you stupid pathetic nutty pieces of shit when you would realize your mistake, and you will realize your mistake someday I promise you that, you would not be able to live your life same as today because the load gentlemen, the load of such a big mistake will never let you sleep peacefully. The cries of those small children whose parents you murdered, the lost smiles from the face of the women you raped, the hatred of the people whose joyful life you destroyed, they will never let you sleep peacefully ever. You will let yourself down in your own eyes. I just want to show you your future. And believe me nobody knows how bad it feels more than me” I said to them.

Their faces looked red with anger. Most of them were panting severely as if they had virtually witnessed horrifying visions my words.

“Then what do you want? They destroyed our temple. They deceived our faith, our tradition, and our loyalty towards each other. The future you are warning us about is no different from the future if we don’t retaliate. They attacked on our temple and you want us to keep patience…,” shouted Abhay at me.

“This is not true. We never attacked your temple. In fact, you destroyed our mosque and this riot is an answer for that. You stabbed us from behind not us. People of your community betrayed us and now you accuse us for the riots?” replied Fardeen Sheikh to Abhay Pratap.

“What crap? Why will our men do that? We respect your religion. We have always respected your religion. And this is what you are returning us for our loyalty?” asked Abhay Pratap to Fardeen Sheikh.

“Loyalty? You talk about loyalty now. For years, we students of MU helped you in the preparations of Dashehra festival. We celebrated Holi with you and danced with you on the eve of Ganesh Chaturthi…,” said Fardeen to Abhay.

“…and I myself have thousand times visited your home when you invited me on the eve of Eid. And readily accepted your gift when you offered me the holy book of Quran” replied Abhay in between.

“Thank you gentlemen I will take it from here” I said cutting them in between. “Now I believe that the conversation between my two good friends proves that there is enough love & respect between people of both communities. Now the question is if there exist such strong bonds of faith & trust who the hell did actually tried to hamper these strong bonds? Who were those people who actually demolished the mosque and the temple? I ask you Fardeen do you recognize the people who attacked the mosque?” I asked Fardeen. He looked perplexed and responded negatively.

“What about you Abhay? Do you know who attacked the temple?” I asked Abhay and he too gave similar expressions.

“That’s what I am talking about. None of you actually know who attacked your temple and your mosque. But you took the liberty to suppose yourself in thoughts that the sinful act must have been done by the people of opposite community. How fool you people are? Who told you Mr Fardeen Sheikh that when a mosque is hampered always Hindus are behind it? And who told you Mr Abhay Pratap Singh that it is always a Muslim who conspires to annihilate the temples and hence deceive the trust, the pious bond between Hindu-Muslim communities? Where do you learn these facts from?”

They both had no reply to my questions. Perhaps nobody had anything to defend themselves. They just stood there shamefully lowering their head and avoided any eye contact.

“A real religious man will never even in his dreams have such thoughts of destruction because religion never teaches non-violence. Killing innocents for the sake of religion does not make you a true follower of the almighty king but instead eradicating one’s own sins is what the real job of life. In Islam, we call it ‘jihad’ while for Hindus it is service to the mankind, which has been judged as the prime job. But you people? You aren’t even close to be recognized as Hindu or Muslim respectively. You are simply murderers who murder people on the name of religion,” I said while others were listening with tears in eyes and shame in emotions. Eventually they dropped their weapons to apologise to each other while I simultaneously narrated them the part they had to play to stop people riot each other.

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Back at the riot area where we had left from when the people saw hundreds of children with swords in their hands ready to stab themselves it blew their mind off completely. Youths then quickly gathered between the two communities. The scene of the younger generation standing like a wall between the two community and preventing any further riot, you know, that was something great, something very proud to watch coz it radiated a hope which we have in this generation. A hope that someday the riots would be history in this country. I really relied on Fardeen, Pratap, and those young guns to prevent the riot. And to do the same we started the conversation with the people to move their mind.

“Don’t come closer to us or we kill ourselves,” warned Fardeen to people pointing the sword close to his neck.

“What is this non-sense Fardeen? Come down” shouted a man who was possibly acquaintance of Fardeen.

“This is not non-sense. What you people are doing is non-sense,” replied Abhay to the mob.

“Have you all gone mad?” shouted someone from the mob. “Why do you all want to kill yourselves? Think about your future, your career you morons. Why do you want to destroy your life?”

“Life? Future? Career? Hah. Look what you grown and mature people have turned this city into. You have made riots a tradition of this place. You talk about our future. But when we grow tomorrow and become as mature as you are today we would too probably follow your fatal tradition and get killed someday. So why not kill ourselves today? Why wait to grow up?” replied a teenage school student and dumbstruck mob had no word to speak.

“He is right. No bright future can exist here. What career you are talking about to make on this battleground? And life? Perhaps death would be comparatively better than such a disturbed life,” said a girl to the people.

In few minutes media gathered all around the place. The live news of that proper incidence was trending worldwide. People all around the world stuck to their idiot box to see what would happen next. It was a nail biting moment for everybody. The social media just exploded with the response. It was no more an issue of just Saharabad now. It became an international issue. Thousands of questions arose on the Indian government, which alarmed them, and consequently the Home Minister quickly interfered in the matter as soon as was possible. Meanwhile, in Saharabad, youths unaware of these facts gave a final warning to the mob to quit the riot right forever.

“The children are right. It is our stupidity that we are witnessing this day. How can we dream of their bright future when we have already spoiled it?” said a person from the mob who dropped his weapon refusing to risk children’s life.

“I agree with him. I lost my both sons in previous riots and regret the tragedy every day. I only have my old wife at home who would be waiting for me. I don’t wish to spoil my life anymore. I just want to go back home and live rest of my life peacefully,” said another person from the mob.

“My children would be hungry. I too quit,” said another.

“I quit too” then another and the rest and in just few minutes everybody dropped their weapon with the hooting slogan of “No more riots” and with that our victory over the riot was confirmed. We had saved the day. We had saved the future. Celebration was all around. Not just in Saharabad but in the entire world and in every house of the people who had stuck before their TVs to witness the drama. Two most heart touching memories of that day are when people dropped their weapon and hugged each other and the second one when some people lifted me up on their shoulders and praised my name. The feeling was awesome.

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