Things I want to say to an assortment of uncles I have known

Woke up with thoughts of a particularly heated evening from 2017, soon after I had just moved back to Bangalore. A living room conversation I found myself having, with a bunch of uncles — some relatives and friends of my parents who until then, I was until then doing my best to try and tolerate anew. The conversation was responsible for not just a crash right back into reality about the new society I now inhabit, after years in the Goa bubble, but also the reality about having to once again be in close proximity with uncles and their views, many of which I simply cannot digest and take lying down anymore.

It was not long after Kuldeep Singh Sengar got away in the Unnao rape case. My emotions were volatile, tempers were high, and I somehow got into a conversation with said uncles about how I just do not trust the current government in power because they’re crooked and vile and will leave no stone unturned in perpetrating the most heinous crimes on the people of this nation. I had already enumerated enough instances to explain why. But when the unnecessarily pressing questions persisted, I simply said “Modi is a terrorist and I refuse to accept him as my PM. I have massive problems with what he is and what he stands for.

I will never forget, and it came back to me swiftly in a cloud of rage this morning, the response I got. The most blind, sanghi, blindly servile, sanskaari-drivel-fed response of them all. “The Supreme Court has cleared him of all charges. The Supreme Court is like the mother of this nation. Questioning her word is like questioning your mother about who your father is.

VOMIT. UUUAAACKKK.

I had to leave my parents home that evening, abruptly. To keep from either barfing or breaking something. Or both. It’s been a while since I have been that triggered. And I decided then that I’d do my best to avoid discussing politics with uncles and their ilk, thereafter. It has meant blocking many on whatsapp, choosing to be quiet in the interest of my sanity when views are aired in person, walking away from political discussions with uncles who will not listen to reason, distancing myself from some family members, and unfortunately quietly cultivating a lot of loathing for some of them (which I know doesn’t serve me at all, but until I figure out a better way or achieve higher levels of Zen, I’ll deal with it).

Today is day 3 of helplessly watching things escalate while nothing is being done to abate the violence, and I have a few things to say to Uncles At Large. That mass of grown ups, every single one of them, who in 2014 told me not to worry because “Modi cannot afford to play those same politics now that he is PM“.

I want to thank them, with folded hands, for their faith and blind servitude.

For their sycophancy and commitment to turning a blind eye to the lies.

For their refusal to open their eyes and look beyond the empty promises of development and economic progress.

For their ignorance and obstinance, even now, that he is somehow the messiah who will lead this country to deliverance.

For their impudence that they knew it all, and their insistance that as younger (angrier) people we could learn a thing by being servile.

I’m angry today.

I want to go to every one of these uncles and tell them this, today, is on them. The blood of all these innocents is on them.

They voted a terror accused to power, knowing fully well that they’re backed by literal admirers of Hitler. And yet, they believed we’d never see pogrom of the scale of Godhra again. So, here we are. Exactly the same place we’ve been many times over.

I’ve watched that video of the goons dressed as cops thrashing the near-dead men, commanding that they sing the national anthem (and they comply), in absolute terror. I can’t get over the images of the thugs climbing atop the minaret on the mosque in Ashok Nagar, destroying it and placing an orange, RSS flag in it’s place.

Wake the fuck up, uncles. Wake up, own up and say you’ve fucked up and we’re here today because of you.

This blood is on you. 

So much for fucking progress. So much for development. So much for economic growth and prosperity. So much for forward thinking leaders and visionaries.

I wonder if they’re happy now, watching the news. I wonder if this gives their bloodthirsty guts a riotous fill, or if there’s even an iota of shame and guilt for what they have contributed to. And if there is, this is a good time to take it and shove it deep where the sun don’t shine. Sit now, with your Hindu Rashtra (read: Taliban), and take shelter in your Ram Mandirs, hang on to your sacred threads and do everything to revive the most backward, regressive aspects of our culture (and none of the hope-filled, progressive ones) and hope like hell that it’ll all give us the many, many, many jobs that can keep these mindless mobs out of trouble. Because this is what this is. A long-drawn, very complex plan to destroy democracy, to destroy our very humanity.

Let’s make no mistake in not seeing it now. Miscalculated errors like demonetization and GST weren’t isolated. They were done to bring this countrys growth and employment to its knees. So frustrated empty youth can fester and form a fertile bed in which to sow seeds of hate. Then, fan them. With Pulwama and Balakot. With the Ayodhya Verdict. With 370. And finally CAA and NRC.

If after all this, you still support this government, you could do well to introspect deeply on what humanity means to you. On what the Hinduism you’re so insecure about really teaches you.

Make no mistake in calling this a series of unfortunate events. This is calculated. This is the work of monsters. Monsters YOU voted. Monsters you brought to power, twice over.

One year ago: At ease, at home
Two years ago: I’m glad that I’m alive
Four years ago: In between mouthfuls

Pour your thoughts over mine

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.