My experience with Racism

Partition_of_Punjab,_India_1947.jpg (611×404)
partition of India image from wikipedia

Our 2020 was a year when racism reigned supreme from the higher to the lower group of people. This was an engaging topic.

Then came pandemic, the same thing happened. The group who were facing poverty were not given the same help as the rich.

I clearly recall an incident when we lived in New Delhi. I was five years old,I had two friends their name was Piki and Meera.

One day they came running to let me and my younger sister know; their older cousin was visiting them. Naturally I was excited, it was something new to me. I never saw any cousin of mine and often wondered if I have any.

I asked Mom she consoled me, ‘yes Ranu you have cousins too, they live far away.’

I kind of understood.

Suddenly I remembered I must see the cousin of Piki, and Meera. I ran to see the cousin. She was older than us, with a fair complexion, had a very friendly expression when she saw me and my sister.

This is how Piki introduced us, (era na mucholman in Bengali), ‘they are Muslims.’ I was too young to realize, somehow we were different, my facial expression changed, my face was red. I felt perhaps me being a Muslim was not good.’

The cousin was aware I was embarrassed. She was very angry. She said to her cousin, ( ‘bellick in Bengali) foolish, shameless, I do not want you to treat your friends this way.’

Though I was happy Piki’s cousin scolded her, the thought of they’re Muslims echoed in my mind for a while.

We had a lot of friends in the neighbourhood, some spoke Hindi, some Bengali. Their difference in language or religion never bothered me.

I remember we picked up some of the lingos of our friends, one of them was Myrie, it meant by God, or I promise.

One day I was having a serious argument with my brother and I said out loud, ‘Myrie bolchi,’ I promise.

Mom was somewhere close by, her immediate response was, ‘Ranu don’t speak like a Hindu.’

Then the partition of India was in full swing. One Sunday morning our neighbours said, ‘ You have to leave right now, they are killing Muslims.’

From New Delhi we arrived in Rawalpindi. Here I took admission in a Convent school. In this city they spoke Punjabi, though I understood a bit, I didn’t try to speak their language, I spoke Urdu.

Once again I saw the face of discrimination. Our Urdu teacher gave us homework which I completed but my cousin did not. The teacher was in a bad mood, she called my cousin and told him to sit, I guess she was in a sitting position, he was standing therefore her hand couldn’t reach his face. She slapped him hard, my cousin was sweating and his hair was oily, the combination infuriated her more, because the sweat and the oil covered her hand. She was in a rage, she yelled, ‘ghalis bungali moon may bhi tel laghata hai.'( filthy Bengali you put oil in your face too.)’

In this city we were Muslims as everyone else, but the difference was we were Bengalis. It did not matter we spoke fluent Urdu and had no accent. We were not from their neck of the woods therefore we can’t be friends.

Many moons passed I happened magically to be a resident of Gander, Newfie land. They have their own lifestyle, they speak English with a different accent. Here racism was at its peak, our language, religion, even our skin didn’t match theirs. I started feeling the pinch of racism. I did my own thing, i.e teaching. My husband practiced Medicine.

Now I’m living In the capital of the province. Since I stay away from politics, I’m fine.

Last and not the least is the 2020 US election, it has the taste of everything, right, wrong, truth, false. Historians will have a treat writing about it. They cannot make it spicier. It’s already too spicy to stomach it.

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365 Writing Prompts: 21st-century citizen

Do you belong in this day and age? Do you feel comfortable being a citizen of the 21st century? If you do, explain why– and if you don’t , when in human history would you be?

As far as I know, I’m here and it won’t make any difference whether I like it or hate it. Each century brings with it good and bad, if I could take all the good things that happened in each century and give it a name it would be superb.

It is not only unthinkable it is ridiculous. I like reading about the century when Mughal Empire thrived, all those beautiful architecture, music, poetry and the gorgeous buildings are thoroughly pleasing to read about, but there amidst all this beauty there lived people who were poor and down trodden, they were living in the century, but could not appreciate all the wonderful things surrounding them, they were unable to be part of it, they were haunted by poverty. In that era only the rich were fortunate to enjoy everything around them.

Twenty-first century seems better comparatively, poverty still is a factor, but the people are looked after by their respective governments, although in some countries this is not the case.

I don’t mind living in the twenty-first century, it is easier to travel, we get news of the world instantly. There is so much to do, so much to see one cannot be bored.I think I like the twenty-first century.

………………………….. 🙂

365 Writing Prompts: Charitable

You’ve inherited $5 million , with instructions that you must give it away_ but you can choose any organizations you like  to be the beneficiaries_ where does the money go?

If I inherit $5 million with instructions that I must give it away to any charitable organization, I would select as beneficiary, The Al Waleed Talal Foundation.

It’s a charitable and philanthropic organization founded by Al-Waleed bin Tala and princess Ameerah with a mission to help alleviate suffering and transcend international borders globally.

The foundation has established centers and programs at institutions of higher education around the world.

It has a network of partners and NGO’s  and has local, regional, and international activities to improve global cultural understanding, community development and rapid aid for natural disasters in Saudi Arabia and Lebanon.

It has established centers and programs devoted to the promotion of better mutual understanding between the Islamic World and the West.

The foundation aspires to improve global and cultural understanding through establishing and supporting academic centers. Alleviating poverty is its goal and its aim is also to aid victims of natural disasters.



365 Writing Prompts: Moved to tears

Describe the last time you were moved to tears by something beautiful.

The last time I was moved to tears was a few days ago after I finished reading the memoir of an author, who wrote about his life as a five year old boy, his mother left him to take care of his 18 months old sister, she had to work for days to provide food for her family.

They were so poor, he once saw his sister,eating charcoal to curb her hunger.

He insisted his older brother to take him with him, so he could see what type of work he does, his brother left him on the bench of a railway station and told him to stay there until he came back for him.

A five year old how much do they understand is what I thought while I was reading the book. Sure enough he left the bench to look for his brother whom he couldn’t find but ended up in places he didn’t recognize.

He was exceptionally fortunate to come in contact with a boy who took him to the police station, the authorities could not locate his home because of the scanty description he gave them.

He was taken to an orphanage and eventually ended up with an Australian family who adopted him. This little boy was amazed to see the difference of craving for food and then getting the food without any problem, he saw poverty and its opposite within a short time of his life.

He did not forget his family, it took him  twenty-five years to find his family. I was moved to tears when I read how he was united with his mother and the siblings!…moved-to-tears

Book Review written and Posted by Ranu

Yesterday I was able to finish reading the book, “A Long Way Home”.  The author is Saroo Brierley. It’s published by the Penguin Group.

The author was thirty years old when he wrote the book. He has very vividly described the trials he faced as a child. It’s hard to imagine a five year old boy remembering early years of his life in such great detail.

While reading the book I felt he was an extraordinary boy, he looked after his year and a half old sister, while his mother went away to work in an unknown place for days, so she could provide food for her family of five, three sons and a daughter.

He was left alone most of the time with his sister, while his brothers also looked for work.

Saroo the main character was always curious to know where his brothers go everyday. He managed to convince his brother to take him. This was the beginning of the little boy’s arduous journey,  who came close to death a few times but was  saved by unknown strangers.

His older brother had told him to stay where he left him, but Saroo somehow moved from there and ended up in strange  places and was unable to find his home, he did not know the name of the place where he lived, tried his best to describe it to strangers who were busy with their own life and paid no heed to a poor little boy.

Eventually he was lucky an Australian couple adopted him. he had never seen anything good in his life before this, he was surrounded by poverty, coming to Australia exposed him to a life he had never known, he actually could have a room where he could sleep and get meals without asking for it.

All the comfort and good life did not stop him from thinking about his brothers and his sister and mother. Every day he reminded himself about his family he longed to meet. He did not want to forget them and the place he came from. It’s as if he captured the memory of his five years in India, safely tucked away in a corner of his mind, his determination to remember his family was a priority.

His adoptive parents took good care of him fed him clothed him and gave him the opportunity to go to school. He loved them and did not mention the family he left behind, because he did not want to offend them.

He grew up and soon was able to use a computer, he used it to locate the place he came from, it took years to be successful, he did not give up, in the end he was united with his family

I was amazed to read how dedicated he was. When he left India he was only five years old, to be able to find his family after twenty five years is nothing short of a miracle!

DP Daily Prompt: 2100 post by Ranu

Imagine There's No Hunger    -  Strawberry Fie...

Imagine There’s No Hunger – Strawberry Fields – Central Park, NYC (Photo credit: asterix611)

The population of the world is assimilating faster than we can say,”BOO”.  Everything from food,clothing,eating habits , interaction is happily adopted by the people of the universe. It is a very good sign.

Only a fraction of the world population,if at all will be ignorant. People will recognize each other. The color will no longer be a hindrance for making friends.This is already in the air.

In 2100, I can imagine how changed the world will be. In  eighty seven years the change will be phenomenal. John  Lennon’s song,” Imagine” will top the charts.

In that world there will be one language.I have named it, ” SHEMAPI’. I have taken the first letter of the seven most spoken languages in order of population.

There will be   One religion and no government,there won’t be any need. Farmers will grow and enjoy their crops,no one will take away anything. Poverty will be wiped out. No crooks will make the lives of people miserable. There’ll be no distinction between men and women.

Allama Iqbal’s Marghdeen will come into fruition! This is how I see the world in 2100.

“And The Mountains Echoed” Novel by K.Hosseini Post by Ranu


Afghanistan (Photo credit: Ricymar Photography(Thanks Everyone!!!!))

Khaled Hosseini, author

Khaled Hosseini, author (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“And The Mountains Echoed”,is the third novel of Khaled Hosseini.He was born in Kabul, Afghanistan. In 1980 he moved to  United States.

It is a story of a poverty stricken family,their need for financial support, separates them from one loving member.

The story takes place in Sadbagh,Kabul, San Francisco ,Paris and the Greek island of Tinos.

The characters are: Pari , Abdullah, Saboor,  Parwana,  Nabi,  Mr. And Mrs. Wahdati.

Pari and Abdullah are the daughter and son of Saboor, Parwana is the stepmother of Pari and Abdullah,  Nabi is the uncle of Pari and Abdullah and the brother of Parwana, Mr.and Mrs. Wahdati are Nabi’s boss.

The most important part in the story is Pari is given up for adoption.

While I was reading the book,I wondered if Pari and Abdullah will be reunited. When they were little they  promised to live together forever.They  were separated   when they were very young. I was pleased when they finally saw each other.

Khaled Hosseini’s purpose  I think is to show how poverty makes one completely helpless.

He is a very skillful story writer. He has a unique way of describing the people and places in his stories,it helps the reader to imagine what the people and the places are like by his written representation.

Daily Post: Six impossible things I believe in posted by Ranu

Peace on Earth

Peace on Earth (Photo credit: █ Slices of Light █▀ ▀ ▀)

Here are the six impossible things I believe in: 1. Everyone will speak the same language,if this happens language will not be an issue.

2. Poverty will be erased from the face of this earth,result would be, there will be no beggars,no thieves,no one hungry for food it will be a world of peace and tranquility for us all.

3.The end of wars: there will be no need to build weapons of mass destruction,we all will be safe.There will be peace everywhere.

4. Truth will triumph:  The word lie will be erased from the dictionaries.

5. Christmas will be celebrated every month.

6. The whole world will be one country.

These are my six impossible things I believe in.