Secular street

Ever since I veered into journalism, the literay animal in me has been gasping for breath. Yesterday night while venturing through the decked up lanes of Mohammed Ali Road in search for an elusive kabab, I felt the pangs of pathos amid festivities. In these troubled times, when faith and fear coexist, the animal once again tried to come back to life as I was immediately reminded of the renowned Hindi literary giant Premchand. A little hesitant to go to the Muslim-dominated area, probably a little condescending also, I used to always fly over it, looking down upon and frowning on the 'other' countrymen.
But the gourmet that I am, I couldn't resist the temptation of having delicious kababs and I finally found my way into the lane, which I used to pass by in hurry. Once there, I could easily recall the poignant moments from my Hindi textbook in school. The legendary Premchand's moving stories on festivals and individual suffering with an underlying theme of secularism were playing out on the street I used to despise as dirty and treacheruos. But, during Ramzaan, it takes a completely secular hue. Hindus in equal number throng the Mohammed Ali Road to relish the variety of kababs and other sepcially prepared dishes for the occasion. And yes they are welcomed with the same holy spirit.
All the talks of 'clash of civilisation' and the post 7/11 Muslim bashing vanished into thin air, rather in the thick smoke of richly prepared kheer. The hospitatlity of the other_a western ideological construct forced into the popular discourse_and secular virtues that I learned in my school textbooks helped me shed my pre-conceived notions about the street, which was once in my imgaination (formed by the great Indian media) dominated by only militants and ISI agents. Though I still have deep reservations against certain hardcore sections of the community, I love them for more than their kababs.

the local

The Local... The unavoidable, the lifeline, the bombed saga of a failing spirit, the tireless journey of struggle and survival... Never had thought that I will have to board it... was scared of it, thanks to the numerous horrifying, almost to the Gothic extent, tales... but what a bliss... an hour to myself... In the rising crescendo and the unedning stream of people, I found peace. Some with FMs plugged into their ears, others just chatting, the more intense reading, and some just catching up on their sleep... What a way to observe people from a detached point of view... the selfishness, the greatness... all travel on the same train... the political overtones also outsound the chugging of the slow local... the sound is certainly deafening but the journey is enriching...