By Shabnam Hashmi
I am sorry, my dear son, yes, I agree that I have stopped spending any time with you, that earlier sometimes we used to go out for dinner and enjoy and laugh or have a quiet evening at home. You feel that somewhere the thread that bound us together has broken. No, that is not true. You have been a very nice son, a very sensitive son. You were only 15 years old in 2002 when we travelled together, meeting hundreds of victims of the Gujarat carnage, sharing their pain, their agony. Your tender heart bled, you were absolutely numbed by what we witnessed. Your photographs of the carnage exposed the brutalities, exposed the forces that were behind the brutal killings. You travelled with your exhibition to schools, colleges, to other cities, to other countries, contributing to the struggle against insanity with the hope that this madness would stop one day.
You were 15. Travelling with your mother, perhaps you thought that you could bear all the pain because your mother was with you.
You had to get back to your studies. You entered one of the elitist colleges of the country after finishing your school, and with that you also entered another world, but your mother continued her journey. Now in 2006, when I look back at 2002, I realise that it was the other way round: I could take all that pain because you were with me.
You were disturbed that though I went out with you today, I did not eat. I wanted to spend time with you and laugh and eat and enjoy, but I could not. The memories of my last week's visit to Jhabua, Dhar, Alirajpur, Amkhut, Jobut, Puniyavat and Indore do not let me sleep. I am totally shattered.
I have witnessed a well-planned, fascist agenda in action: appropriation of Muslim and Christian religious places, by either forcefully occupying them or distorting history, clearing them in the name of clearing public places, targeting well off Muslim economy, targeting the cultural symbols of the minorities, targeting their property and lives and inflicting violence on the women of the community. The RSS, VHP and Bajrang Dal goons are let loose with the full connivance of the state administration and the police force. Minorities are being physically, psychologically and economically isolated.
It is difficult to share with you in this small letter what I have witnessed and documented. I was part of the Indian People's Tribunal which travelled across Madhya Pradesh recording, documenting hundreds of cases which have occurred during the past few years. Hundreds of broken people came and deposed before the tribunal, narrating stories of torture, hatred, loot, murder and rape. The names are different, the places are different but the stories are the same, the culprits are the same — VHP, RSS, Bajrang Dal, Shiv Sena, Seva Bharti, BJP, Vanvasi Kalyan Kendra, all part of the Sangh brigade of goons.
On 30 December 2003 a prayer was in progress in Antervelia. Around 3 p.m. a mob of 250 came and started stoning the prayer hall, looted whatever was there, set fire to the house and burnt two adjacent houses. The harvest was ready in the farm that was totally burnt, an Armada belonging to the local mission was torched. This was Pursan Bhuria's house. The next day his father was arrested (for his safety!). The police refused to lodge an FIR. It was filed after four days. No one was arrested from the mob which comprised known people from Seva Bharti, RSS and Bajrang Dal. The father was released after 16 days. The police chowkie was 200 metres away from the place where the incident took place.
On 22 February 2005, Tasneem Khan was in her house in Dhar. It was the third day after Moharram. Around 1.45 p.m. she heard slogans and then the stoning started. Her house was one of the several houses where 10 families lived. Her family had a shop on the ground floor, a flourishing business of cutlery and decoration material for Diwali, rakhi and Ganpati festival. The shop was looted, and the shop and the houses were vandalised. The families escaped through the back door. Then petrol was sprinkled and the three-storied houses were set on fire. A 99-year old grandfather and a 14-year old invalid were brought out from a burning house. Fire brigades were not allowed by the mob to come and extinguish the fire. A total loss of Rs 42 lakhs took place. Three families got Rs 30,000 each as compensation, and eight families later got Rs 20,000 each. The families were pressurised not to give any names if they wanted compensation. Those who led the mob were known faces from the Sangh outfits. No one was arrested. The families have not been able to return as the houses are in not in a liveable condition and they have no money to repair them.
On 20 July 2005, Rahimuddin Khan's poultry and broiler farm, in Gandhi Colony, Dhar was attacked by a mob of 600-700 people. They killed the chickens, looted and destroyed his house. The local MLA's son kept giving instructions to pick up the daughters and rape them ("utha le jayenge, Gujarat main jaisa kiya aurton ke sath, waisa hi karenge"). Fortunately, they could flee, using the back door.
After successfully turning Gujarat into a Hindu "rashtra," the experiment is now being replicated in other states, specially in the ones which are ruled by the BJP.
The kind of violence that we documented occurs only when the hatred for the "other" has found deep roots in the minds and the hearts of the people. The creeping sound of the fascist web spreading steadily, slowly engulfing every secular space, strangulating minorities, the shameless support by the administration and police, the growing apathy and insensitivity of civil society, the feeling of helplessness, the faces of innocent children and women, the photographs of charred dead bodies, the footage of the mass graves in Gujarat, the violated bodies of victims of gang rapes, the cowardice of the "secular" political forces, compounded with the international imperialist agenda... All this haunts me.
I know we cannot turn the tide now. It has gone much beyond our control. We seem to have lost the battle of the minds and hearts. The only promise I have made to myself is that I will fight till the last breath.
Forgive me, my son, I can no longer enjoy a quiet evening. I can no longer enjoy going out for dinner with you. I can no longer assure you that they will not kill you one day.
Shabnam Hashmi
May 1, 2006
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