A few years ago, I read The 3 Mistakes of My Life by Chetan Bhagat. Though I read it long ago, its story remains etched in my memory. The current scenario in our country often reminds me of the events depicted in that book.
Set against the backdrop of the Godhra riots in Gujarat, the story portrays the devastating communal violence where people of two religions clashed, leading to statewide unrest and the massacre of innocent lives. It vividly illustrates how politicians, driven by their own agendas, fueled this frenzy.
In one poignant part of the story, Bhagat sensitively narrates the sacrifice of a devout Hindu boy, the son of a temple priest, who lays down his life to save a young Muslim child from a fanatic mob intent on killing him.
This narrative left a lasting impression on me. It reinforced my belief that religious teachings should be confined to homes, not schools. Schools should focus solely on teaching respect for each other’s personal beliefs and practices.
Why should children be asked which religion they follow? Why do our countless forms—from birth certificates to those for school admissions—require columns for “Religion,” “Caste,” or “Community”?
I remember, even in primary school, children are taught simplistic generalizations: Hindus go to temples, Muslims to mosques, Christians to churches. But why must we imprint such differences on young, impressionable minds? There are countless beautiful and enriching ideas we could nurture in children instead of sowing seeds of division based on places of worship.
A Personal Reflection
An incident from my own life illustrates this perfectly. When I transferred to Chennai from Bhopal, I moved into a house near a temple. My three-year-old daughter, who hadn’t yet started school, noticed the many devotees visiting the temple daily and kept insisting that she wanted to go too.
Curious about her understanding, I asked why she wanted to visit and who she thought was there. Her innocent reply stunned me:
“Mummy, mandir mein Allah hai”
(“There is Allah in the temple”)
For a hardened religious fanatic, her statement might seem like blasphemy. But to me, it epitomized pure innocence and wisdom. Her simple words revealed the essence of what we often fail to grasp: the divine is universal, transcending labels and boundaries.
A Vision for a Better World
If we could embrace this perspective, how different our world could be. There would be no more Godhra-like incidents, no lynchings driven by religious hatred, no honor killings fueled by misplaced notions of identity and pride.
The answer lies in nurturing the innate purity of young minds and steering them toward unity rather than division. By fostering unity, not division, and remembering that the divine is one, regardless of the name we call it, we will be building a better world to live.
Ending with two lines from Gandhiji’s favorite bhajan:
“Sabko sanmati de Bhagwan,
Eashwar Allah tero naam.”