[Reader-list] Dear Prime Ministerji

Thu Apr 25 19:03:21 IST 2002

Dear Prime Ministerji,
Ever since your delicately balanced mask fell off and 
tumbled onto the sands of liberal Goa's beaches, I have 
become terribly envious of you. Henceforth you need not 
agonise over with what face will I go abroad. You have 
found your face.
I need to find mine. Even though I have taken off my 
mask.
Post 9/11, I notice that many are suffering from an 
inexplicable neurological condition. Despite our best 
efforts all our face muscles seem to be busy twitching 
and giving our visage a lopsided twist to the right. 
Maybe everything is tilting to the right. It's symptoms 
have manifested themselves with ever more 
ferociousness in India, since your loyal CM in Gujarat 
has been trying hard to follow his Rajdharm as advised 
by you. Did you notice the right tilt whenever your Israeli 
counter part grins? And yes, Le Pain seems to be 
spreading fast in Europe too.
Either I have lost my sense of balance or the world has. 
Independent Indias supposedly rock solid twin towers of 
democracy and secularism (at least thats what they 
taught us in Kendriya Vidyalayas) are shaky. I am 
nervous. So I solicit your help.
Since you and your ever so silent Home Minister have 
found a simple, clean and surgical solution to the issue 
of Hindu-Muslim coexistence, I am sure you will have an 
equally effective and instant solution to my problem. 
Having gained inspiration from you, I also decided to 
unmask myself too. Horror of horrors
my psuedo-
secularist, liberal, Indian mask has given way to reveal 
a
a
err

A ZINDU!

At this stage either you are with me or not.

Maybe its my paranoia about having to explain (in flat 
fifteen seconds) to a trishul wielding angry Hindu mob, in 
a riot situation, the complex and ancient history of the 
origins of my 'muslim sounding' name. What with my 
parents, a punjabi speaking Zoroastrian from Delhi for a 
father and a Lahore born Bengali Hindu (Brahmin, if that 
matters) mother, having literally and metaphorically 
screwed it up for me.

Damn I wish there was something called Parsi 
Brahmins! I would imminently qualify, and save my skin. I 
hope you have the right post-riot relief camp planned for 
difficult people like me. Thats of course if my fifteen-
second extempore discourse on Persian history had the 
desired calming effect on the enraged trishul wielding 
red-eyed mob.

PMji , maybe you can help figure out which half of me is 
more patriotic. The unbearable Le Pain of not being 
able to be part of your nationalist culture is killing me. My 
folks from my fathers side were immigrants and 
refugees from erstwhile Persia. I hope that they have 
assimilated well into the Indian milieu and not caused 
any increase in crime or become a security threat to this 
peaceful land. And as for my dear maternal half, I am 
sure you would be happy to know that I relish roshogullas 
and admire Ma Durga statues every pooja.

But that doesnt still solve my problem of being a Zindu. 
Being a privileged English speaking elite of this country, 
I admit I dont have the true picture of real India. I also 
know the idea of getting Star TV and Rajdeep Sardesai 
to set the picture right for me, is best left to the 
imagination. Your utterances of the recent past have left 
me confused again. I thought I had my politics sorted out. 

Nonetheless, I hazard to lay my confusion bare to your 
more experienced self. Because at the end of the day I 
have to resolve this crisis of suddenly realising that I am 
a Zindu.

A Zindu who has contributed to the melting pot that is 
India and who never ceases to be amazed and 
fascinated by the diversity of thought and culture in India.

A Zindu who finds the romance of science fascinating 
(with due apologies to your HRD Minister).

A Zindu who has learnt that most of Indias poor, given a 
chance, are quite willing to do kar-sewa to build water 
harvesting structures with the same zeal as your Sangh 
Parivar would like them to build a Ram Mandir or a 
Narmada Dam (remember your Home Ministers list of 
three achievements  the bomb, the Dam and Kargil?).

A Zindu who listens to Madonna (with due apologies to 
your I&B Minister) on FM.

A Zindu who bangs his fist watching the Indian cricket 
team muck it up at the last moment.

A Zindu who wonders why George Bush wants to label 
the rest of as non terrorists.

PMji, even the Congress cares two hoots about people 
like me. I will never benefit from their vote bank politics 
or their politics of appeasement. I have no native place 
and certainly dont have a good name. What do I do?

Now I want to share a little secret of mine with you. I dont 
follow any organised religion, dont do any rituals, dont 
attend any religious discourses, dont believe that I need 
a priest in my life, dont believe that I am either 
Zorastrian or Hindu. And guess what? I think I am still 
normal, balanced, nose picking, thinking, sometimes 
rational and sometimes likeable person. And if it means 
anything to the cultural police that your supporters seem 
to have become, I am a teetotaller, am not promiscuous. 
Not because of any moral qualms, but because I dont 
like the taste of whisky and rum and because I am too 
lazy to chase women.  And, yes I think women with short 
hair and jeans are OK.

My apologies for being a troublesome non-measurable 
variable in your equations. So what plans do you have 
for me? Sending the mob after a psuedo-parsi with a 
'muslim sounding' name would be a real waste of time. I 
suggest we let the real vultures get me.

So while you nationalise, I need to rationalise.

In anticipation

A confused Zindu,

Rustam Vania

S/d

Dated: 25th April 2002
Place: New Delhi (my capital)

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