Gujarat as another country
The making and reality of a fascist realm
Ahmedabad is a divided city. On one side resides fear and anxiety, helplessness and anger. Walk across Jamalpur, Mirzapur, Dani Limda, Kalopur, Lal Darwaza and other parts of the Walled City. Go to Juhapura – one of the largest Muslim ghettos in India. Scratch a little, and people want to talk. An entire community feels under attack, with many resigned to their newfound fate of being second-class citizens. Rights are negligible, and the sense of representation non-existent. What remains strong is the cry for justice, and the knowledge they will not get it – not in Gujarat. Why? "Because", explains one elder in Shah Alam, "we pray to Allah. That is our transgression."
There are the borders everywhere. A patch of road, a wall, a turn across a street corner, a divider in the middle of a road – this is all it takes to polarise and segregate communities throughout Gujarat. Each town and city now has countless borders, forcibly making people conscious of their religious identity. Me Hindu, you Muslim. Or one could look at it differently: the borders on the ground merely reflect and reinforce the polarisation that has already taken place in the minds of ordinary Gujaratis.