India that is Bharat
SATIRICUS knows he is stupid. Still he sometimes wonders at his stupidity. For instance, when he is in a philosophical mood he wonders why he simply cannot understand why there is no peace on earth and no goodwill among men—especially among men in India and men in Pakistan. He cannot comprehend why this should seem so intractable a problem which there is nobody who can solve. Then suddenly, in a blinding flash, the answer has been revealed to him. It is a Hindu-Muslim problem which no Hindu nor a Muslim can solve, but a Muslim who is also a Hindu can—namely, Salman Bhai-cum-Bhaijaan. Just one Bollywood blockbuster—and hey, presto, the job is done.
Why was this so difficult even for stupid Satiricus to understand? Because he could not invest a few hundred rupees in buying a ticket for a show of his film Bajrangee Bhaijaan. If Satiricus claims to be a lover of peace, he really should have, for the other day a newspaper headline assured him, on behalf of Janab / Shri Salman that “ticket sale spread peace” and the film “can build bridges between India and Pakistan.”
That such a simple solution should elude Satiricus shows his stupendous stupidity. Could there be a parallel for such unparallelled unintelligence? Alas yes, there could, and there was—an Indian fellow who is a Fellow at the prestigious Stanford University in the US of A. In a recent wretched write-up in the Indian media this fellow/Fellow admits that “Bajrangee Bhaijaan and its main star Salman Khan clearly intend to deliver the message that “we” (that is, Indians and Pakistanis) are “all the same”. So what? Could there be a nobler message that Salmanbhai-cum-Salmanbhaijaan could give to us benighted souls? The retort of this writer—“That message is toxic nonsense.” Good God ! Why is that? Because, says his pernicious piece, “Pakistanis don’t believe that they and the Indians are ‘one people’.” He even adds : “Have you seen their history text-books? Much of their national energy, since 1947, has been spent in erasing all traces of Indianness from its cultural and historical consciousness.” Well, isn’t that how it should be? How can the history of Pakistan be a copy of the history of India? And how can the pak history of Pakistan be permitted to be polluted by the Indian distortion of it? For example, Indians perniciously promote the malicious myth that Pakistan was founded by Mohammed Ali Jinnah just 70 years ago, while the pak Pak historical truth is that Pakistan was founded by another Mohammed—Mohammed bin Qasim 1400 years ago.
History apart, in present time, isn’t the deplorable divide between infidel India and pak Pakistan the dastardly doing of the Hindu-cum-communal cusses? Then don’t they need a secular kick in the bottom with a resounding message? They do. So at the end of the film the little mute Muslim girl miraculously finds her voice and screams, “Jai Shri Ram” ! Hey, Ram! Satiricus is moved to tears—of joy. But is the wretched writer? Alas, no. Not only does he preposterously call the film “preposterous”, he crassly concludes with the warning—“The longer we perpetuate Bajrangee Bhaijaan’s myth of oneness, the more complacent we get—and more vulnerable to Pakistan. Vive la difference”. Oh, my ! Although Satiricus’s poor knowledge of English is more than matched by his poorer knowledge of French, he knows this man means ‘Long live the difference’. Does that mean he wants Pakistanis to remain Muslims and Indians to remain (at least 85 per cent) Hindus? Satiricus is told even with that percentage it would be communally catastrophic. So he submits a suggestion—Let them be Muslims, let us be non-Muslims.