Cauldron Classroom
I have never had a hijab-clad classmate. But I had the chance to study in some of the most
diverse Indian classrooms one could ask for, as my father was in the army and we shifted to
a new place every two years. This enriched my understanding of my country and I feel
extremely fortunate for that.
Our classrooms have seen better days. In Mumbai, you’ll find people from various
backgrounds. One day in school, my teacher gladly recounted an incident which took place
during Ramzan in the same school. A whole class unanimously took a decision to skip
eating in the break-time because their Muslim classmate was fasting. Imagine how this
collective action would have touched her! Contrast that with how humiliated a student would
feel if she was not allowed to enter the class because she is wearing a hijab.
When the Armed Forces, known for its formidable discipline, allows Sikh soldiers to wear
turbans and grow beards, why can’t educational institutions let students wear their hijabs if
they want to? And are hijabs the only religious symbols we see in schools?
It was Children’s Day in my all-girls, Christian school in Secunderabad, much-awaited by
eight-year-olds like me because it was packed with performances by teachers, along with
toffees and lucky draws. Plus, it was the only day when the teachers and nuns wouldn’t
scold you for anything – they’d reprimand you the next day! But this particular Children’s Day
was even more exciting because the Principal, a (strict) nun, herself was in one of the
performances and we had to identify her. Our guesses were on throughout the program.
Finally, the teachers revealed that the sufi singer, who was gesticulating in front of a
harmonium, was the principal. She had been sporting a head-gear, a fake beard and sufi
clothes – and pretending to sing! If things could be this fun, then why is hatred being spread
in schools and colleges, of all the places?
People express themselves through the food they eat apart from the clothes they wear. The
culinary diversity of India is at its best in classrooms during lunch-time. The sweet pongal I
brought cheered up my Anglo-Indian friend. Likewise, in Army School, Panagarh, the
contents of tiffin boxes varied from roti-sabji to idli-chutney to poha and pulao. My mother
even made mutter-paneer-dosa for me! We wouldn’t even want to imagine schools banning
certain food items.
A multi-cultural environment is what we enjoy. When I visited the Gurdwara, I tried to
memorise a few lines of the prayer-song, “Meri abhay binti sun leejay” (Please listen to my
sincere prayer) – just so that I could sing it for my Sikh friends the next day in school.
“I love my country – and I am – proud of its – rich and varied heritage,” pledge pupils with
their right arm forward. But when teachers violate this pledge, the tapestry of the colourful
classroom is torn – and takes a long time to be stitched back. “He’s making bombs in his
notebook, sir. He’s planning bomb blasts!” said one boy pointing towards my Muslim
classmate, whom the teacher had just questioned. Instead of punishing him for villainising
his classmate, the teacher guffawed in affirmation. “A terrorist, he is,” someone said. A coup
de grâce like this for scribbling in one’s notebook is absolutely vicious.
I like thinking of a classroom as a cauldron, with different ingredients and ideas cooking
inside. It evolves, holding warmth and deliciousness. But add something wrong, like spite or
hatred and things turn horrible – ideas get burnt.
India’s plural nature indicates its purity. In my father’s village, Hindus and Muslims address
each other as relatives and Muslim families whole-heartedly garland the kovil maadu (temple bull) during Hindu festivals. My mother studied in a Christian college and her friends are
friends first, and Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs and Jains next. My grandmother is a
devout Hindu who completed her schooling in a Christian convent school.
I studied in nine schools all over India and am waiting to join college. Hopefully, my next
classroom is a reflection of what India truly and proudly is.
