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Why #AwardWapsi is no longer necessary. Two friends discuss 'intolerance'

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Minhaz Merchant
Minhaz MerchantNov 25, 2015 | 16:58

Why #AwardWapsi is no longer necessary. Two friends discuss 'intolerance'

Suleiman Khan was excited. Back in Saudi Arabia after a month spent touring India and Pakistan, a pleasant surprise awaited him: an award from his information technology company in Riyadh for "excellent and meritorious service".  

He quickly phoned his friend Anwar Sheikh in Mumbai. "Anwarbhai," Suleiman said, the words tumbling out of his mouth, "I'm coming back to India for a few days."

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Anwar was surprised. "So soon, Suleiman?" he asked. "You left just a few weeks ago."

"No, no, Anwarbhai. Listen to me. I've just won an award here in Riyadh. I want to return it. Like Arundhati Roy, Nayantara Sahgal and all those other award wapsis."

There was a long silence at the other end of the line. "Are you there, Anwarbhai," Suleiman asked anxiously, blaming his new 4G smartphone for the bad network connection.

Anwar finally spoke. "Listen, Suleiman. You can't return your award."

"Why not, Anwarbhai?" asked Suleiman, taken aback by his friend's icy tone.

"Well," said Anwar, his voice softening, "yours is a private Saudi company, Suleiman. In India, we only return awards given by the Indian government or Indian institutions. Besides, it's too late. The awards wapsi season is nearly over."

Suleiman was puzzled. "Nearly over, Anwarbhai? What do you mean, it's nearly over. I want to register my protest against intolerance in India."

Anwar replied grimly: "That too is over, Suleiman. India is no longer an intolerant country."

Suleiman couldn't believe his ears. "But Anwarbhai, just last month, when I was in India, dozens of artists, writers, historians and filmmakers were returning their awards to protest against intolerance. How can intolerance rise and fall in one month? Aamirbhai just said his wife Kiranji was actualy thinking of leaving India. He sounded genuinely alarmed."

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Anwar sighed. "Suleiman, you have to first understand Indian politics. It's not as simple as you think. There are complications - wheels within wheels. You've been away from India for far too long."

Suleiman didn't quite understand what his friend meant. But he was determined to find out. "Anwarbhai, I'm arriving in India tomorrow. I've booked my ticket, direct from Riyadh to Mumbai. And I'm bringing my award with me to return to the government as my symbol of protest."

Anwar knew it was no use arguing with his friend when he was in such a truculent mood. "Okay, Suleiman, I'll see you soon."

Suleiman reached Mumbai the following day. Anwar picked him up at the airport. In the car on the way to Anwar's suburban home where Suleiman would be staying, he showed his friend his award. It was a gold-plated plaque with his name embossed on it. "This," Suleiman announced, "is what I'm going to return."

Over dinner, Anwar broke the bad news to Suleiman. He explained that returning awards was no longer necessary.

"No longer necessary?" asked Suleiman, fork suspended in mid-air as he tucked into his chicken biryani. "What do you mean, Anwarbhai?"

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"Well," said Anwar, with a mild trace of embarrassment," the Bihar election is long over. There's no further need for returning awards."

Suleiman was bewildered. "But what about intolerance? What about all those protests last month? What about that elderly man we saw shouting on television, some Patwardhan or the other. What about Aamirbhai and Kiranji worried about growing intolerance? And what about Arundhati Roy who called us a 'nation of fools' for tolerating this government's intolerance. Hasn't she returned her Booker prize for the novel she wrote twenty years ago?"

Anwar shook his head. A note of impatience crept into his voice. "Forget all that, Suleiman. I've booked a flight for us to Delhi tomorrow. Parliament's winter session begins on Thursday." He addd conspiratorially: "Protests over intolerance have their own timing and logic."

On their first day in Delhi, the two friends got off an auto to eat at a small restaurant near Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg. "That Suleiman," Anwar said pointing to a row of buildings, "is where the offices of India's major newspapers are located."

"Oh, so this is where the news is made," said Suleiman.

"Made?" Anwar asked sharply. "You don't mean manufactured, I hope."

"No," Anwar said quickly, "of course not."

After lunch, the pair took an auto to India International Centre. Anwar, a longtime member, greeted several distinguished looking men talking earnestly in little huddles around tables.

Anwar introduced Suleiman to one of the groups. They joined them and ordered a cup of tea and grilled sandwiches.

"So Suleiman," said a gentleman with a handlebar moustache and a mild Sandhurst accent. "How are things in Saudi Arabia? Fewer lashings these days, I hear. What with Paris and all that sort of thing."

A retired IFS bureaucrat chipped in. "Those ISIS chaps are financed by the Saudis," he said to Suleiman, a little frown playing on his face. "No offence meant, old chap, but these Saudis are (expletive deleted)."

Anwar smiled thinly. He rather liked the Saudis. Suleiman, he was surprised to note, agreed enthusiastically with the bureaucrat. "Yes sir," he said, "the Saudis can be difficult, very difficult. I should know. I've been there for ten years now."

"And what brings you to India, Suleiman," asked the third member in the group, sipping slowly on his tea.

"I came to return my award," Suleiman said brightly.

A sudden silence descended over the table. Anwar broke it, smiling weakly. "He's just joking. After ten years in Saudi you develop a sense of humour. Only way to survive."

Suleiman looked blankly at his friend. What on earth was he talking about? Anwar hurriedly finished his tea and grilled sandwiches and got up. "Have to run," he said, nudging Suleiman and smiling at the others around the table. "Got to show him more of Delhi."

Back at their hotel, Anwar ran into an old friend with whom he'd played college cricket. Sitting in the hotel lobby, the three chatted. The talk soon turned to India-Pakistan cricket. Anwar told his college mate: "I hope the series goes through in Sri Lanka without a hitch." His friend nodded in agreement.

Suleiman was surprised. "But I thought playing Pakistan will allow the Dawood gang to get into betting and match-fixing," he said. "In Saudi, we heard the third ODI between Pakistan and England last week in Sharjah may have been fixed. Pakistan dropped so may easy catches, three batsmen ran themselves out and the team collapsed, losing eight wickets for 75 runs."

Anwar and his college mate looked at him in mild exasperation. "See Suleiman, that's what it's all about," Anwar said. "The real money is in betting and fixing."

"But shouldn't BCCI …"

Before Suleiman could finish his sentence, Anwar interrupted him with a strained smile. "Suleiman, it's time for dinner. Let's go."

They took leave of Anwar's college friend and headed to the hotel's Indian cuisine restaurant. As they settled down to eat, Suleiman said reflectively: "Anwarbhai I didn't read anything about protests over beef in today's papers."

"No, of course, not," said Anwar. "We'll see protests over beef and communal violence only before the West Bengal elections next year."

Suleiman was now beginning to understand the strange ways of Indian democracy. But he kept his counsel. He didn't want to ask his friend many of the questions that were swirling in his mind: beef, Bihar, award wapsi, intolerance, Aamir Khan.

As they went up to their hotel room, Suleiman began to unwrap the award he'd received days ago from his Saudi company. He thought of showing it again to his friend as he had briefly done in the car ride from the airport into town but decided against it.

He would wait till the next award wapsi season arrived to protest a new wave of intolerance.

Anwar looked at him as he repacked the gold-plated plaque without unwrapping it. "What's that," he asked curiously.  

"Oh, it's nothing," said Suleiman. "Just something a friend, Swaminarayan Premdas, told me to keep in my bag as a good luck charm when I travel."

Anwar gave his friend a strange look but said nothing.    

 

Last updated: November 27, 2015 | 13:15
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