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Global PeaceWorks | |
peace among religions is the key to world peace |
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A Global PeaceWorks Journal
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After breakfast, Sadeque Hussain and I made a presentation on the history of communal violence in India. Sadeque spoke of his experiences in Gujarat during the riots of 2002.
Chad shared his experience of the visit to Janta Colony on 5th. It set the ball rolling for Fazida to lead us into a brainstorming session about what we would do in the coming week with the Janta Colony community.
We broke down into groups as we discussed what we felt was important to be done in the community. Several ideas came up: finishing the construction of the community center, doing a mural in the community, doing house visits and strengthening the efforts of Anthony David and doing a cultural afternoon with the community’s involvement, were some of the ideas.
Our work in Chetanalaya was to begin from 8th.
After lunch, three jeeps set off to take us to a tour of some of the religious sites in Delhi. Our first visit was to a Gurudwara. As we excitedly stepped into the Gurudwara, we found that it was locked. But our guides, Harkirat Singh and Sethi, asked us to take off our shoes and socks and wait patiently. So we did.
Harkirat, I can best describe as ‘jumping jack’! I am amazed by the energy that he has and I wonder what wonderful things he can do with this energy in him.
As we were waiting patiently, an announcement occurred, “People, this is the WRONG Gurudwara!”
After much hush-hush and hoo-hoo, we moved to proceed, this time, hopefully to the right Gurudwara! It was a warm welcome. Those of us who did not have headscarves got colorful scarves to cover our heads. I find this to be an interesting practice even in the mosque when I am there (which is rarely!). I do not know what the meaning of this practice is, but I have come to believe that covering my head as I come before a power higher than me indicates my submission to it, my faith in it, my humility before its magic!
The caretakers of the Gurudwara gave us a brief history of Sikhism.
The priest in the Gurudwara read out a verse from the Granth Sahib
(the holy book of the Sikhs) and then, Sethi on the tabla (Indian
version of drums played with the palms and wrist) and the priest
on the harmonium, together they began to recite the verses in music.
Again, I really appreciate and enjoy this practice. I feel faith
can be so beautifully expressed through music. I may not have the
sweetest voice, but the inner power inside me and my faith manifest
themselves through my voice, and if I am honest and true with myself,
my faith reaches out. I sing for the sake of my faith and for the
love of god (whatever my understanding and meaning of god).
We had a brief question-answer session and thereafter, our host in the Gurudwara said to us, “You are people from different countries and faiths. Would you like to visit the Sufi shrine next door?” We agreed. I felt that his offer came from within, a respect for another tradition and support for it.
After a cup of tea and refreshments, we proceeded to the Sufi Shrine. All of us went through the durgah but only the men were allowed inside the actual shrine. Later, our host told us the reason behind this custom. According to the tradition, a lady was planted to malign the Sufi saint whose shrine this was. She said before a court of people that the saint was the father of baby inside her stomach. People knew this to be false and they asked the saint to use his magical powers and bring forth the truth. The truth was revealed when the baby inside the womb spoke and said that its father was one of the persons who had planted his mother to malign the saint. After this incident, the saint announced that henceforth no woman would be allowed to visit his shrine. Women can see his shrine through holes in the walls, but cannot actually visit it.
After this experience, we went to visit the Qutub Minar. The Qutub Minar is a heritage structure in India. Some of us went to see it while the others decided to roam around in the vicinity.
We then proceeded to the center. After dinner, Eric announced three team leaders who would be responsible for their respective teams for communication of announcements and decisions and to maintain order. The three team leaders were Chad Johnson, Dinesha Liyanasuriya and Zainab Bawa.
We were broken into three teams. The team leaders sat with Eric, Khorrum and Fazida and we discussed the structure and framework of our session at the Delhi Peace Summit (DPS) which was to begin the next day. Our session at the DPS was “Youth and the Culture of Peace”. After we decided on the framework of the session, the team leaders went back to their teams and briefed them about the program the next day.
Reflections from my diary for 6th December:
Today I made friends with Yasiru and Subba. Subba is an interesting person. Perhaps we are similar in some respects. So, do we often gravitate towards people who are similar to us?
Gayatri was present while I was talking about the history of communal violence in India. I don’t know how she felt while I was talking. I also wonder how she felt during the Gujarat riots. I must talk to her. Here is my chance to understand.
Today I was screaming at Yasiru while we were in our jeeps going to the various religious shrines. He was putting his head and hands out of the window, right in the middle of this rowdy and crazy Delhi traffic. What if something happens to him? I screamed at him, stupid boy, doesn’t know that he may just be maimed for life. He is careless. He needs to be taken care of. But then in the evening, when Subba, Yasiru and I went out together, he was once again up to his antics, running across the roads and dodging with the traffic. Once again I told him, “You had better take care!” He said to me, “I live in a country where I have to dodge everyday with bullets and guns, dodge with life and death. Today I am here, tomorrow, who knows? So what is all this for me? I am having fun” (Yasiru is from Sri Lanka.)
I felt ashamed of myself. Here I was trying to be paternalistic (or maternal should I say?) and I thought Yasiru is someone who doesn’t know. But he knows, maybe more than I do. He knows what is good for him, what is right for him. He can take care of himself and also of others around him (he was holding my hands as I was trying to cross the road!). I don’t need to be his mother. We are equal, each with our own experiences. We can share, equally! We can be friends!
Yasiru was talking to me and he said, “You are my sister.” I accepted. I will take him as my big brother; he is so tall after all! I look like David before this lovely Goliath!
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