{"id":4164,"date":"2009-07-01T23:23:00","date_gmt":"2009-07-01T17:53:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.indiauncut.com\/?p=3437"},"modified":"2009-07-01T23:23:00","modified_gmt":"2009-07-01T17:53:00","slug":"my-mothers-fault-by-salil-tripathi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/indiauncut.com\/my-mothers-fault-by-salil-tripathi\/","title":{"rendered":"\u2018My Mother\u2019s Fault\u2019"},"content":{"rendered":"
My friend Salil Tripathi<\/a> was in Bombay this week to promote his marvellous new book, “Offence: The Hindu Case.”<\/a> This is part of a series that examines the growing intolerance around us in the name of religion: Kamila Shamsie looks at the Muslim case, Brian Klug at Judaism and Irena Maryniak at Christianity. Regular readers of IU will know that this is a subject close to my heart: I’ve unleashed countless rants on how giving offence is treated as a crime in India, and of the consequences of that for free speech. Salil’s book lays out the case for free speech wonderfully well, and if the subject interests you, I recommend you buy it. (You can pre-order it here<\/a> or here<\/a>, and it will also be on the stands soon.)<\/p>\n But this post isn’t just a plug: one of my favourite parts of the book is a poem Salil wrote for his mother, Harsha Tripathi, dedicating the book to her. I was quite moved by it, and with Salil’s permission, I’m reproducing it here:<\/p>\n My Mother’s Fault<\/b> You marched with other seven-year-old girls, Five years later, they did.<\/p>\n You smiled, ‘Have those people seen any of our ancient sculptures? Those are far naughtier,’ Your voice broke, ‘We have just killed Gandhi again,’ you said.<\/p>\n We had.<\/p>\n Aavu te karaay koi divas<\/i> (Can anyone do such a thing any time?) You were right, each time.<\/p>\n After reading what I’ve been writing over the years, I live abroad: what do I know of India?<\/p>\n But I knew you; that was enough.<\/p>\n And that’s why I turned out this way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My friend Salil Tripathi<\/a> was in Bombay this week to promote his marvellous new book, “Offence: The Hindu Case.”<\/a> This is part of a series that examines the growing intolerance around us in the name of religion: Kamila Shamsie looks at the Muslim case, Brian Klug at Judaism and Irena Maryniak at Christianity. Regular readers of IU will know that this is a subject close to my heart: I’ve unleashed countless rants on how giving offence is treated as a crime in India, and of the consequences of that for free speech. Salil’s book lays out the case for free speech wonderfully well, and if the subject interests you, I recommend you buy it. (You can pre-order it here<\/a> or here<\/a>, and it will also be on the stands soon.)<\/p>\n But this post isn’t just a plug: one of my favourite parts of the book is a poem Salil wrote for his mother, Harsha Tripathi, dedicating the book to her. I was quite moved by it, and with Salil’s permission, I’m reproducing it here:<\/p>\n My Mother’s Fault<\/b> You marched with other seven-year-old girls, Five years later, they did.<\/p>\n You smiled, ‘Have those people seen any of our ancient sculptures? Those are far naughtier,’ Your voice broke, ‘We have just killed Gandhi again,’ you said.<\/p>\n We had.<\/p>\n Aavu te karaay koi divas<\/i> (Can anyone do such a thing any time?) You were right, each time.<\/p>\n After reading what I’ve been writing over the years, I live abroad: what do I know of India?<\/p>\n But I knew you; that was enough.<\/p>\n And that’s why I turned out this way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,39,9,3],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nby Salil Tripathi<\/i><\/p>\n
\nSinging songs of freedom at dawn in rural Gujarat,
\nBelieving that would shame the British and they would leave India.<\/p>\n
\nWhen you first saw Maqbool Fida Husain’s nude sketches of Hindu goddesses,
\nAnd laughed,
\nWhen I told you that some people wanted to burn his art.<\/p>\n
\nYou said.<\/p>\n
\nOn December 6, 1992,
\nAs you called me at my office in Singapore,
\nWhen they destroyed the Babri Masjid.<\/p>\n
\nYou asked, aghast,
\nStaring at the television,
\nAs Hindu mobs went, house-to-house,
\nLooking for Muslims to kill,
\nAfter a train compartment in Godhra burned,
\nKilling 58 Hindus in February 2002.<\/p>\n
\nSome folks have complained that I just don’t get it.<\/p>\n
\nby Salil Tripathi<\/i><\/p>\n
\nSinging songs of freedom at dawn in rural Gujarat,
\nBelieving that would shame the British and they would leave India.<\/p>\n
\nWhen you first saw Maqbool Fida Husain’s nude sketches of Hindu goddesses,
\nAnd laughed,
\nWhen I told you that some people wanted to burn his art.<\/p>\n
\nYou said.<\/p>\n
\nOn December 6, 1992,
\nAs you called me at my office in Singapore,
\nWhen they destroyed the Babri Masjid.<\/p>\n
\nYou asked, aghast,
\nStaring at the television,
\nAs Hindu mobs went, house-to-house,
\nLooking for Muslims to kill,
\nAfter a train compartment in Godhra burned,
\nKilling 58 Hindus in February 2002.<\/p>\n
\nSome folks have complained that I just don’t get it.<\/p>\n