WHAT IT MEANS TO BELONG

 

“We all see only  that which we are trained to see.”

Robert Anton Wilson

Shadab is a gentleman... a ‘gentle man’, I said. He is an educated man... I said an ‘educated’ man. Some years ago, when he and his wife came to live in the housing society, I was its Chairman. When he moved in, he had one daughter, Maham, who is now in her early teens. Just when Covid broke out, our family moved to a flat (owned by my brother-in-law) in a nearby society. Our own flat, meanwhile, is under lock and key.

I am very fond of young kids. I want them to develop the reading habit. Hence, for many years, I have been gifting our books to several kids. Maham has been a beneficiary of these books.

One of the many books I had gifted to Maham was titled ‘I am Good, The World is Good’. The  book had an apt baseline – ‘Jaisi Dhrishti, Waisi Shrishti’. The book was intended to sensitize young kids to develop an inclusive outlook towards the society... help them stay away from social and religious prejudices. So, we had encouraged little ones and young ones, alongside many adults, to write something beautiful about a friend, a classmate, a teacher, a neighbour, one of their drivers or maids – but, who belonged to other (religious) communities... They wrote beautiful articles from clean lenses.

                         Maham, on receiving our latest two books

Now, Maham has a kid sister, Zoha. I am told, that she, too, loves to read...

I was remembering Shadab and his two little girls yesterday, on the solemn day of Mahashivratri for a different reason. You will be able to find this reason through the letter Shadab shared in our society group early, last night...

Dear Parents,

I hope you are all well. Warm wishes on Mahashivratri to those celebrating — may kindness and peace touch every home.

I wanted to share something that stayed with me.

Yesterday, as I entered the society, I saw my little Zoha — just six years old — sitting quietly near the A1 front area. Her eyes were filled with tears; the kind children try hard to hold back so no one notices. Just a few steps away, a group of children her age were playing, laughing, and enjoying themselves.

I walked up to her and gently asked what happened. She didn’t say anything at first. She is usually like most children — quick to smile, quick to forget. When she saw I had brought her a small treat, her face lit up, but behind that smile, the sadness lingered. That innocent, brave smile with teary eyes stayed with me long after.

This morning, during breakfast, she finally shared what had hurt her. She said one child had told the others not to include her because she is Muslim and rest followed. What struck me even more was that she immediately requested me not to tell anyone, fearing it might make things worse for her.

As a parent, this was deeply unsettling. Not because children disagreed or refused to play — that happens — but because of the reason. It made me pause and wonder how such heavy ideas find their way into such small hearts.

I do not write this to accuse, blame, or start a debate. Children often reflect the world they see and hear, and all of us, as parents, are trying to do our best.

I am only sharing this as a gentle reminder — for myself as much as for all of us — that our children are growing, watching, and learning every day. These early years are where they learn friendship, kindness, and what it means to belong.

Like many of you, I send my children downstairs to play so they can experience real laughter instead of screens, real friendships instead of virtual ones, and grow into emotionally healthy and compassionate human beings.

Perhaps together, we can help them build a childhood filled with inclusion, warmth, and understanding —where no child sits alone (just because of a different faith) with tears in their eyes while laughter happens nearby.

What I admire in this letter are the amazing grace, restrain, respect, tolerance displayed by my friend, Shadab. Undeniably, he is pained and angry. But, note the choice of words, the tone and the healing strength and dignity, and, yes, the earnest appeal to conscience...

It's easy to downplay this episode as something children always indulge in while playing with their peers. But, we know, it’s not just another playground episode...

I saw several members empathizing with Shadab’s concerns and expressing the need to help kids grow up in an unbiased – inclusive – atmosphere... Yes, as Shadab wrote in his letter – help them learn ‘what it means to belong.’

One can only hope. Charity begins at home, Sir. Whether we agree or not, our kids are our mirrors... They reflect us!

Vanny Vabiola is a sensational, young singer from Indonesia. And she is a Muslim. The world is mesmerized by her velvety voice. I have been lucky to discover this talented woman on YouTube many years ago. Let me tell you this:  her millions of admirers, including myself, aren’t concerned about  to which religion, country or culture she belongs...

Vanny Vabiola belongs to ‘us’ - the mankind... the borderless, casteless, bias-less world...

A Utopian world?

Well, I don’t know, that... except the fact, that ‘We are the World... We are the People.’

 

GERALD D’CUNHA

 

Pic’s: 1. Pixabay/Vikasss

 

Video: Vanny Vabiola