Dogs and Indians

During British rule, the entrance gate of the Pahartali European club of erstwhile undivided Bengal bore a sign which read—“Dogs and Indians not allowed”. It riled a 21 year old woman so much that she, along with few others, attacked that club and in the process lost her life. Pritilata Waddedar is still remembered as a brave revolutionary in some parts of Bengal. The British rulers had, understandably, branded her a terrorist.  

There are obviously no such signs anywhere in our country now. The foreign rulers have left.  We are the biggest democracy, haven’t we heard it every now and then? We are a liberal country, our citizens have equal rights and what not. And our GDP growth, boy, isn’t that impressive?

We have progressed by miles since the days of Pritilata, so much so that in a city like Bombay, one has difficulty buying a property if his/her name ends with a Hussain, Rahman or Ali. In some states, one’s mother tongue prevents his chances of getting registered in the state employment exchange. In job interviews, people’s surnames are enough to get their candidature cancelled. Sometimes, such candidates from other states are beaten up mercilessly. Women from the north east are raped in the national capital because, well, they look ‘different’, wear jeans and speak a strange language

But you won’t find any signs on any doors. The signs are in our heads.

And after all these, we complain about terror and terrorists.  We are lucky that some of our fellow countrymen have a tolerance level which is unusually high. We wouldn’t have existed till now otherwise.

Hatred is a term we use often. It is what Pritilata had felt towards the British rulers every time she saw that sign. We have compelled some of our countrymen to feel the same and the target, sadly, is us only.

Miley sur mera tumhara…indeed.