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My Father-in-Law Often Spoke About

In this poem, Vineeta portrays the deep ethnic divide between the two communities post-partition. Earlier, there was no such clash – an exclusive for Different Truths.  

the pot of water he’d left behind in Lahore.
This was1942. He was 11,
one of the six Hindu boys
in a class of eighteen other Muslim students.
They shared everything- books, pencils, tiffins…
only the water container
was separate for each religion.
 
No one ever touched the other’s vessel.
Or the doya used to draw out the water
from the earthen container.
No mischief, no evil, no vandalism.
Respect was the keyword.
There was unity in this separateness.
 
The pots sat quietly
like grass beneath the feet.
Undisturbed.
Unlike post-partition,
when provocations
formed the hard carapace of religion.
 
He remembers
the tranquil water pots of his classroom –
resting on a common plank, side by side,
quenching thirst. Nothing else.

Doya: Long ladle to extract water from the pot.

Picture design Anumita Roy

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