Ready for part two? This one is a bit more intense.
If you haven’t read part 1, take a read here.
I was in 7th or 8th grade when communal riots broke out in my own city, Bhopal. Violence erupted and we were in a constant state of fear.
Rumor in the air was that the house right behind ours that belonged to a Muslim family was going to get burned. They had two small kids and were petrified.
Everyone watched helplessly but do you know what my parents did? They opened up their doors to hide this family in safety. For them, this wasn’t about who belonged to what faith. It was a simple act of being a human that transcended any divisions we have created among ourselves.
That evening, the family quietly came into our house to hide. I still remember the little boy crouching behind our couch. The girl was too little to really register what was happening and probably thought of it as some kind of adventure.
My parents knew what kind of danger we were putting ourselves into. My sister and I slept with knives under our pillows that night.
Deep into the night, the rioters came with torches and their house caught fire. At some point, the family’s relative came by and took them from our house. They were now in a safe neighborhood, surrounded by people of their own faith.
None of this is one-sided. You will hear stories with much worse outcomes from people on both sides. But what stood out to me was my parents’ stance and their act of bravery. The ability to look beyond differences. The ability to simply love.
