“ Mahaul bahut badal gaya hai ” (the mood has changed completely), said Raghvendra Kumar Pathak, a resident of Amauna village in Faizabad in Uttar Pradesh.
Mr. Pathak, who has a flourishing farm business, was jailed in 1990 as part of Mulayam Singh's preventive detention drive on the eve of a mobilisation programme announced by the Vishwa Hindu Parishad. The programme expectedly ended in violence. Twenty years later, Mr. Pathak laughed at his little misadventure, saying people of the State had tired of the Ramjanmabhoomi-Babri Masjid dispute and wanted to move on. “It does not matter how the verdict goes. We must respect it,” he said. The sentiment was echoed by his father Iqbal Narain Pathak, once a hardline temple advocate and a VHP sympathiser.
Each time the conflict came to the fore in the past, Faizabad and Ayodhya suffered grievously. Shop-owners downed the shutters, schools and colleges remained shut and the vegetable mandis reported zero sales. However, with emotions running high on both sides, everyday livelihood issues took a back seat, but not for long. As the drill — congregation, slogan-shouting and violence — settled into a pattern, the novelty wore off, and the long-term costs of disharmony began to hit the people.
Last week, bits of that forgotten era returned to haunt the residents of the twin towns. With the Lucknow Bench of the Allahabad High Court setting a date for the verdict in the Ayodhya title suit, the tensions reappeared. The once familiar figures in khaki took over road intersections, schools, and other buildings. Traffic thinned on the roads, business plummeted in the mandis and the showrooms dimmed their lights.
Over the last decade, prosperity has left its footprints on the Faizabad landscape. Where once rag-tag machinery shops lined the streets, there are glass-fronted car showrooms. Naturally, people cannot wait for normalcy to return. At a crowded tea shop in interior Faizabad, a group of young people, Muslim and Hindu, furiously discussed the setback to business as a result of heightened security.
Said the obvious group leader Akhilesh Misra: “Let the decision favour anyone, Hindu or Muslim. We are done with the issue. And please, let us not have any more agitations or mobilisations.” Further, “When the Babri Masjid came down, did any leader get killed? Did even one of them suffer a scratch? We were the fools who suffered.”
The group applauded the punchline and soon we were joined by a home guard, looking weary and harassed. “ Humko bhi mukti diladeejiye ” (Liberate me also from this thankless duty), he said to much laughter. The meeting dissolved to a stunning disclosure by Mr. Misra: “I used to be with the Shiv Sena.”
Changed mood
Not just Ayodhya and Faizabad, it was difficult to miss the changed mood as one travelled from Lucknow, Balrampur, Shrawasti, Bahraich, Barabanki and back. Indeed, thanks to the mandate for harmony, there have been heavy turnouts at peace meetings held by the various district administrations. Ayodhya resident Ehsaan Bhai's house was looted and his neighbour was killed in the post-1992 demolition violence. Today he is an active participant at the peace meetings held by the district administration. His father, Irshad Ali, has been going from house to house, both Hindu and Muslim, canvassing for peace.
Two hundred kilometres away in Balrampur, District Magistrate Surendra Singh asked the locals — Hindus, Muslims as well as politicians — to take a pledge that they will not react to any provocation from outside. His audience instantly agreed.
At the tiny office of Balrampur Tarang , a local daily, 19-year Shafat spoke glowingly of the Collector's peace efforts even as he declared that the dispute was of no relevance to the young of today. Shafat is doing a company secretary course and is aiming for an MBA degree. He asked why the two communities could not bury the hatchet and agree to build a university on the disputed site. This was far from being an isolated opinion. Many other young people The Hindu spoke to said much the same thing.
At Ikona in Shrawasti district, Abhay Kumar, a B.Sc. second year student aspiring for a Provincial Civil Services job, made a passionate case for a college to be built on the site as an eternal symbol of peace and harmony. Kishorilal Rau, a lawyer at the nearby tehsil court, enthusiastically seconded the idea. Mr. Rau said while devotion for Ram had not diminished “one bit” among Hindus, no one wanted a temple built by force.
There was near unanimity of agreement among the older generation — among them staunch Ram devotees — that the court judgment must be respected, and political parties ought not to disturb the peace. Almost without exception, people agreed that the issue was a “ rajneeti ka khel ” (political game).
There was the odd man in every group who said that the mandir must be seized even if by violence. But upliftingly, he was always shouted down by the others.
U.P has many other concerns today. Floods have caused havoc in large parts, nominations are on in full swing for panchayat elections. The Ayodhya dispute has receded from public memory. People are categorical that if there is violence, it will not be from their side; it has to be politically engineered.
