Mera Juta hai Japani, yeh patloon Englishtani,

Sarpe lal topi Roosi phirbhi dil hai Hindustani……

Ahmed was singing with all emotions in his voice, a beautiful song from Raj Kapoor’s film Awara. Everyone in the room was swaying to the music lost in their own world. I felt a sweet pain in my heart and tears sprang in my eyes. Unknowingly I started singing along with Ahmed – my friend, my brother from Pakistan; who was singing this song with so much love in his voice.

I was witnessing Poojya Guruji’s vision of Global Religious Harmony in reality, here in Irvine – a town in Southern California with people migrated from all parts of the world.

This was a birthday party of Myra – daughter of our neighbor friend Sohail Khan. The hall was full of their Muslim friends from Pakistan. These were the people who have been living in America for many years. Some of the young men and women were born and brought up in US.

As we entered the busy room, everyone stood up and immediately gave us a warm welcome by claps and smiles. We – I, my husband Milind and my daughter Maithilee were the only Indian and Hindu family present in the room. We were special guests, the guests of honor. Everyone in the room was keen on speaking with us, telling us how happy they were to have us with them. Within few interactions we realized that every person in the room had their roots in India.

Ahmed’s old father, a man in his late 80s had tears in his eyes when he spoke about his young days in India. He studied in Osmania University; spent his youth in Hyderabad. He was describing how every time he heard songs “Sare Jahanse accha Hindosita hamara” or “Vandemataram..” on Indian TV channel; he would come running in front of the TV and stand till the song was over. ”Beti, I grew up listening to these songs, I still feel the excitement in my heart when I hear them.” He was telling me with pride. Uncle spent 1 year searching his old friend from Hyderabad – a Hindu friend with whom he had lost touch for many years. The day he finally called his friend they both spent first 5 minute only crying on the phone. Uncle is looking forward to visiting his friend in India soon. His wife – a direct descendent from the family of Nawabs of Hyderabad – sang a beautiful song from “Barsaat” of Lata Mangeshkar in her sweet shaky voice. The old couple has only one wish before they die – visiting their India.

Vakar Ahmad, another middle aged, shy gentleman seemed very eager to speak to me and Milind. Vakar moved to America with his father when he was very young. After losing his first wife Vakar’s father – a very humble, god loving, devoted Muslim gentleman; raised young Vakar all by himself. He did not want his son be ill treated so he never got married again.

Vakar said “I have tremendous curiosity about how our people lived in India before the patrician? What was their life like? My father always spoke so lovingly about India and Indian people.” Now when I go to my Indian friends here in California, I get some idea about how our life would have been had we stayed back in India.

Vakar shared some beautiful memories of his father. One of them was about his father and his Hindu friend back in India. This was when Karachi was still a part of India. Every morning Vakar’s father would walk to the market to buy meat. While going he would take the shorter route which would go past his friend’s shop. His friend was a Hindu barber. Both were such thick friends that they could not live without seeing each other even for a day. They would spend hours chatting in front of the shop. After they both exchanged words to their heart’s content, Vakar’s father would go ahead and do his daily meat shopping. While coming back though he would take a longer route to come home and avoid facing the friend. When young Vakar asked his father why he takes longer to come home, his father told that he did not want to hurt the feelings of his friend by showing him the blood soiled bag in which he used to bring the Gosht (meat). His friend was a Hindu and did not eat meat. He was protecting his friend’s religious feelings.

Vakar very innocently asked me when people had so much love in their hearts, why and when they started hating each others so much? Can we never ever come back close again? I said maybe they have to go away from their restricted territories and start all over fresh; just like we did.

Though we had gone with the intention of just staying for a few minutes as a formality, we ended up leaving the room last. Eating vegetarian food specially cooked for the three of us and singing along with them we forgot that back home in India, these were the people from our enemy country.

While my mind was reminding me of the hatred I should be having for them, my heart was dancing with the joy of love and brotherhood. While leaving the premise, I was humming and laughing with others.

The voices were different but the spirit was the same

– phirbhi dil hai Hindustani……..

Vishakha Purandare

September 2004 – Irvine, CA, USA