My Religion is “Love”

Lost amongst Delhi’s ever expanding skyline and ambitious developments are small underdeveloped sub cities where Delhi is still Dilli. It is still untouched by the growth all around the capital and people here are still as conservative as they were probably at the time of partition. The roads here are in a mess and dominated by stray animals. Such is a place where I reside, in a different Delhi or Dilli to be precise.

Senior Boys Government School would have been a lifeless place if it wasn’t for the Senior Girls Government School across the road. All boys decorated themselves outside the school gate when the girl’s school was to get over to see some of god’s most beautiful creations. In one such group of boys was I, to see the most beautiful girl in the universe, the love of my life, Serra.

I loved her for the past five years but all I knew was her name, by which her friends called her. And where she lived as almost every day, I missed my school to follow her to her home. Yes, even though I had never ever talked to her all my life, I loved her. She was the reason which brought me to school every day. She was the reason of a number of boys getting thrashed by me as they tried getting close to her. Not being smart and bold enough scared the shit out of me whenever I thought of telling her how much I love her or at least talking to her.    

I always knew that we were destined to meet but never expected the way we did. Pooja, Serra’s friend and Rehman, my buddy, were a couple for some time and probably the only people with a bright future in our shitty locality. They died under mysterious circumstances. Police claimed it to be an accident but their parent’s calm behaviour made us feel otherwise. It was during this catastrophe that Serra and I came close. We became friends. Slowly with time I found out that our love was mutual and she had waited for five years for me to confess. At last I did.

Less did we know that LOVE is easier to confess than to REDEEM. Her full name was Serra Khan and mine was Ashish Sharma. Her father was a local leader for Rights for Muslim party while my dad was a priest in a temple. I was destined to take donations in names for different gods and she was to get married as soon as possible. According to our society, we were not supposed to fall in love. But love sees no religion. It sees only two beautiful hearts craving for each other.

The day when her brother found out about us and caught us together while we bunked school to escape into the city’s crowded hangouts, it was supposed to be over. He beat me up with hockey sticks which could only break my leg. My five elder brothers took up fight with her family which led to huge religious tensions in our area. No Hindu crossed through the densely Muslim populated lane and vice versa. My father shaved my head bald so that I feel ashamed to step out. Both Serra and I were put under strict house arrest.

We kept in touch through letters which our friends transported for us. It was then that we decided to put in all our love for each other into our books for a few months. Serra always wanted to be a doctor and I wanted to be hers. We studied well enough to clear the medical entrance exam. The college was far from our suffocating locality. For the next five years, without fearing the world, we had the best times of our lives. Our love increased many folds and we became inseparable. We took all precautions and managed to keep our relationship under wraps from our families.

 After securing a high earning job at a private hospital, the time had come to take some big decisions, time to think about marriage. I knew our families wouldn’t agree and running away was the only option but Serra didn’t want to. She believed that we’ll be able to convince them. Like all girls, she too was really filmy. We first decided to concentrate on her parents as that seemed the more difficult part. To my disbelief, they accepted me with open arms in the very first meeting. We were delighted. It was the happiest day of my life.

 By night, it became the worst. Serra’s phone was switched off. I rushed to her home which was locked. Knowing her father and brother, I was scared for her life. All my efforts to know of her where about failed. When I sought help from my family, they threatened me with dire consequences. I completely failed to understand why there was so much hatred amongst people, that too over caste, religion and status. Why don’t they understand that love is above all this?

I was broke. It had been two months without her and still I had no clue where she was. I was ready to commit suicide if it had not been for that call. It was from Goa. By know I had learned almost all the STD codes in lieu of her search. Serra was forcibly married from her home town Gujrat. She was on her honeymoon in Goa. She said either she is running away or she will kill herself. We planned an escape. She courageously managed it and we met in Mumbai.

As they don’t have registered marriages in their hometown, we quickly did a court marriage. Her family couldn’t trace her and mine wasn’t bothered. We found good jobs here and a safe future. We continue to live happily and very much in love. Yes, we do miss our family, our brothers and sisters, our friends, our city but sadly we had no other option. In a few months from now, we’ll start our own family when Serra will give birth to our first baby and it will not be a Hindu nor a Muslim. It will be an Indian and above all a good human being.       

P.S- Please be lenient towards LOVE and LOVERS. There is nothing more beautiful..!!