A Calamity Level Hatred

So much hatred that a calamity level it has reached.

We talk about Gaza and cry but our home is no more different as it earlier seemed.

“Madam you are from which state? UP or Bihar?”

Well, Mishra is my name and I am not from a state very far.

He went on and said he is happy that the roads are empty

“The only good things about Eid-ul-Fitr is that there is less traffic at this hour”

“Why can’t these Muslims fight amongst themselves and die”

“Why can’t we be a Hindu state and flaunt our cultural tie”

I was sitting at the back seat, shun as a robot and quiet as a toy

Couldn’t digest the fact that my driver has just broke into my ‘peaceful India’ coy.

“I hate these people” and he kept staring at the road ahead in wheeze.

When asked his reason for hate, he could only say this

“We go to Dargah but they never visit a Temple. They live on a lie”

And I said: I am a Hindu and I never go to temple. Do I deserve to die?

He looked back and smiled and then turned to his loving road with his mouth mum.

The pang in my stomach remained and I still don’t know what is in our kitty in the days to come.