The Disappearance of a Home

I have fond memories of my teenage years in Pune. Progressive by the standard of Indian cities, I did not worry much about caste or religious discrimination or about railing against the almost daily scams of the Congress on social media. I was remarkably indifferent and shielded from reality. India was not rich but it was a reasonably well functioning, albeit flawed, democracy. The Congress had a strong opposition and each side kept the other in check. Looking back, it is clear that the sense of discontent against the dynastic and corrupt politics of the Congress had more than just economic ramifications.

The Indian middle class had great aspirations. I am reminded of a remark that now particularly haunts me as a foreboding of events to come. In ninth standard my geography teacher remarked how India needed a dictator to solve its problems. That people had too much freedom and needed to be “controlled”. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard this remark. There are a disturbingly large number of people who have positive opinions of Hitler in India. There is a fascination with dictatorship and authoritarianism that runs deep through the veins of the Indian middle class, fueled perhaps by the sheer helplessness they feel at directing India’s destiny.

You can’t blame people for aspiring to a better life. More economic growth. More prosperity. Riding this discontent, the people of India ushered in Modi as the Prime Minister in 2014. Seven years on, he still remains the most popular leader in the country. Enjoying widespread approval and ratings, the government has slowly but surely destroyed any opposition it faces. Frustrated by environmentalists, human rights activists and anyone who does not subscribe to the BJP’s ideology, the government has clamped down on these subsections while being cheered on by their supporters.

I am not shocked by the BJP’s strong-arm tactics. People in power do this when left unchecked. The Congress would have done this if it wasn’t for the vigilant opposition and media. What I am shocked by is the number of people who strongly support the direction of the country, the number of people who seemingly hate my existence. The fact that I vote against the BJP or that I oppose or post against the government’s policies online has earned me a level of hatred which deeply shakes me. These are not people who I would describe as extremists. These were and are ordinary people. Friends. Colleagues. Neighbours. People with whom I shared great memories. Now they tolerate no opinions against the government. If I don’t support the BJP I surely have to be an Islamist sympathizer, a Congress supporter, an India-hater. I am told to be grateful. To be grateful that we are not ruled by Sharia, that we are not Pakistan or China. I am expected to be grateful to exist. This is the benchmark for comparison that has been set. I am expected to be grateful to just scrape by above it. I am unable to break through — to even plead my case, to find common ground.

It is clear to me that I have lost a home. The idea of India that I have is not shared by the majority. I have to make my peace with a rising and powerful Hindu nationalist movement. People who see the country as a monolithic religious state yearning to recapture an illusory ancient glory instead of a forward looking melting-pot of cultures with a long proud history of diverse philosophical and spiritual achievements.

I don’t know how this ends. If this is the social contract that the majority of Indians seemingly want I will have to fight for self preservation and bide my time. Hopefully until a day when we as a society decide that the restrictions we impose on ourselves in exchange for seemingly higher growth or prosperity is not worth it. That there are limits to how many sections of society you demonize before you run out of scapegoats and the hatred tears the country apart.