Often still recited in morning assemblies in several government and secular schools in north India, the Hindustani prayer, Lab Pe Aati Hai Dua (literally “Prayer that comes to the lips” but commonly known as the “Child’s Prayer”), was written in 1902 by one of the subcontinent’s greatest poets, Muhammad Iqbal, whose song Saare Jahaan Se Achhaa is loved and repeatedly sung by millions of young and old Indians. But when the other morning children in a school just outside Bareilly (one of UP’s major cities) sang it, the “Child’s Prayer” resulted in the suspension of two Muslim educators. One, a woman called Nahid Siddiqui, is the school’s principal. The other, Wazeeruddin, is a male adjunct or para teacher there.
It seems that along with some others, Sompal Rathore, president of the Bareilly unit of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (World Hindu Council), went to a police station and complained that “teachers Nahid Siddiqui and Wazeeruddin were making the students recite… as per Muslim method with an intention to hurt sentiments of the Hindus… This is being done by the two teachers to attract students towards Islam… Both the teachers are hurting the sentiments of Hindus and preparing for the students’ conversion.”
The suspension of the principal and the adjunct teacher quickly followed. (We may wonder whether supposed seekers of fresh adherents really begin their exercise by hurting the latter’s sentiments, but in his complaint the VHP leader used the words he did because “hurting the sentiments” of a religious group is a legal offence in India.)
The only “Islamic” element in the beautiful short prayer, although some would call the element universal, is the word Allah. The VHP, a powerful wing of Hindu nationalism, seems unable to tolerate this word, which many Christians in the Middle East also use for the Almighty. Before long “God” too may be deemed an offensive word by the VHP and its allies. Even though millions of Hindus spontaneously and daily utter the word God, like Allah it is not in origin a Hindu word or sound.
Prayer is legal and common in India’s government schools, with a variety of words used for God, including several “originally” Hindu words like Ishwar, Bhagwan and Parmatma, which haven’t caused Muslim, Christian, Zoroastrian or Jewish parents or associations to complain of “hurt sentiments”. However, the Hindutva agenda requires that anything that directly or indirectly recalls Islam, e.g. an Arabic or Urdu word for God, should be opposed and if possible banished.
The suspension of Siddiqui and Wazeeruddin will result, we can be sure, in the removal of the Child’s Prayer from options that teachers in many of UP’s government schools have thus far retained for their morning assemblies. The suspension has already delivered a fresh blow to the standing of Muslim teachers and students in a state where Muslims form 19 percent of the population. After all, humiliating Muslims is a crucial part of the Hindutva agenda.
Pronouncing India as a secular state, our constitution assures equal rights and equal protection to members of religious minorities. However, the reality on the Indian ground is very different. Vigilante groups, a one-sided mass media, an oft-intimidated judiciary, and a silent and seemingly acquiescent central government combine to enforce majoritarian supremacy.
Still, Indians who love liberty, equality and fraternity add up to immense numbers. They were jolted a few days back when NDTV, the only large channel airing unpleasant or unwelcome realities, was taken over by India’s wealthiest man, Gautam Adani. Prannoy Roy and his wife Radhika Roy, the couple who created NDTV, fostered high-quality, independent television in India, and raised a generation of gifted anchors, reporters, camerapersons, and producers, lost their control over their influential child.
An immediate and jolting result was the resignation from NDTV of its brilliant, brave, and tireless anchor, Ravish Kumar. For seven decades, I have practised or closely observed Indian journalism. I cannot think of any reporter, columnist, or editor who in impact, tenacity, penetrating investigation, or courage has surpassed Ravish Kumar. Followed by millions, Ravish has earned a lasting place in their minds and hearts.
No one should conclude that Ravish’s major task is over. It is true that his teamwork with NDTV, in particular with Prannoy and Radhika Roy but also with a remarkable crew of reporters, producers, camerapersons, editors, and others, cannot be replicated. The stirring and hope-giving currents we received from Ravish were the result of his alliance with NDTV.
Yet Ravish, who has more than earned a break although he has also invited the disfavour of supremacists, is only 48. He retains both the energy and the following to produce another magnificent chapter in his life story and in the story of Indian journalism.