In 2009, I wrote a short book called Offence: The Hindu Case (Seagull) which documented the rise of Hindutva and Hindu intolerance. I had dedicated the book to my mother, Harsha Tripathi (1935-2004), and written a poem, which has since been filmed at the New York University and it briefly had me suspended from the social media platform then known as Twitter. That poem was a letter to my mother.
A friend recently wrote to me, to ask how I might write to my children, now that a structure is being erected in Ayodhya, at the controversial site where a mosque had been razed illegally in 1992. Here’s the poem I wrote.
My Children’s Questions
And what did you do
When your mother said
“We have just killed Gandhi again”?
I wrote.
*
And what did you do
When she asked
“Can anyone do something like this”?
I raged
And wrote.
*
And what did you do
When they laid the stones
And brought the bricks
And raised the cash
And carried the sticks
And dressed as gods
And prayed and sang
And to force others
They sent their gang
And went to town
Seeking adventure
And bowed and praised
A half-built structure?
*
I went to the park
Where Gandhi
Sits still
And sang his hymn
Those words that heal
Ishwar Allah Tero Naam
Sab ko Sanmati de Bhagwan
And so many came
I wasn’t alone.
With candles aflame
Our light shone
On our lips –
Not in our name;
In our hearts
A country to reclaim.
*
They scream
I write.
They shout
I laugh.
It gets dark –
A candle
I light.
I hold that candle
My fingers tight
The wax is warm
As it burns bright.
Living in hope
Isn’t praying for the best –
It means you carry on
Not stopping to rest
Because you know
You will survive this test
Living in hope means
Doing what is right
No matter if
The end is not in sight.
Never give up
Without a fight –
Long it might seem,
It is only the night.
Then
Dawn
And sunlight.
Salil Tripathi is an Indian-born author and editor. He is board member, PEN International, and a contributing editor to The Caravan.