Banno, writing on Upperstall Blogs, remembers what it was like growing up amongst different communities and wonders when the ‘one’ became the ‘other.

In Agripada, where I lived until I was 12, we lived amongst Anglo-Indians, Catholics, Parsis, Hindus, Muslims, all of them having their own smaller, distinct communities. When we moved to Pune Cantonment, to the list were added Tamilians, Iranis, Sindhis, Punjabis, Kannadigas, Konkanis. It was not only that people of different religions and regions jostled with each other, but also people of different classes. Around us, there were children who were richer than us, children who were poorer than us, even the children whose mothers worked in our homes, and we played in each other’s houses, ate at each other’s houses, slept over at each other’s houses and often, studied in the same schools and colleges. It didn’t seem like a big deal, then.

When I go back to Agripada now to visit some relatives, I can see only Muslims there.

When I go back, I myself feel like an outsider. Even when I make a long dreamt of visit to Mohammedali Road for Ramzan Iftar, I feel like a tourist, thrilled with the crowded markets, the food stalls, the smells of the food that belonged to my childhood.

and later,

In Bhopal, feeling very brave, I walk into a RSS office for an interview. My name is not immediately recognizable as a Muslim name. They mistakenly hear it as a Hindu name. I do not correct them. They rave and rant about ‘those people’. They say ‘We should go and rape their women, burn their houses.’ Yes, they say it, and I hear them. They say, ‘They never let their women marry Hindu men’. Someone mentions Nargis and Sunil Dutt. They say, ‘Oh, those film people, they do anything.’ At the end of the meeting, I say, ‘Shukriya’ instead of ‘Dhanyavaad’. A man’s ears perk up. He starts to whisper something to the person next to him. I hurry away, scared. They are 12, I am alone with 1 assistant.

I feel like the Pakistani spy (Priya Rajvansh) in Chetan Anand’s ‘Hindustan ki Kasam‘ who says ‘Hai Allah’ and is caught out. Or was it the other way around – an Indian spy who says ‘Hai Ram’? How does it matter really? It’s hard to say who is ‘the one’ and who is ‘the other’, whether I am ‘the one’ or ‘the other’.