The Other Landcape

Her world was not down on any map, yet, it was as dear to her as reality.

“What is your name?” asked a stern voice. A man dressed in a typical dhoti enquired.

“Sanya, Sir”.

“Sanya?” Very strange. He had heard this name for the first time in his life.

Mr. Deshpande was very proud of his rich Mahastrian lineage. A middle-class married man with a son and a young daughter, he was very conservative in his way of living. Be it the vibrant Ganpati Visarjan or the beef ban, he seemed to view himself as the upholder and preserver of his reverent culture

“What does it mean?” He further asked inquisitively. “I don’t know. My Mom kept it.” Sanya said bashfully.

Sanya and Jai studied in the same class. In their brief encounter with each other, they seemed to create a world of innocence that was bereft of harsh realities. Jai was not proficient in Mathematics which is why the teacher made him sit with Sanya, who was the topper of the class. A little girl with curly hair and magnificent blue eyes, she preferred to remain in her confined space. A slight random conversation which started with the calculation of the number of sides in a regular polygon, eventually culminated into a beautiful bond,

Jai was flushed with embarrassment at the interrogative nature of his father. “Aayi is preparing the delicious Pav Bhaji for Sanya today.” He started showing Sanya his house and she was startled to see the pooja ghar. She was reminded of the praying rituals in her house. She ardently talked about the namaz ritual of her culture. Jai was a bit startled, but then Sanya profoundly remarked, “It is just the end that matters, what role the method plays?”

There was something about Jai that really amazed Sanya. His vibrant demeanor, his wit and most importantly his outlook towards life radiated positive energy which made him one of the most loved children of the class. His vivaciousness was in perfect contrast with the Sanya, who preferred to stay in herself – a self-created space away from the commotion of the class. Yet, they clicked. Their diverse natures blended, leading to the birth of a secluded space. Sanya had incorporated Jai in her world, a landscape where she belonged, where her joy, sorrow and aspirations lay. Sanya and Jai were inseparable. While Sanya brought the delicious biryani which Jai relished, his Pav Bhaji never failed to disappoint her.

Just then, Jai’s mother arrived with juice and delicious samosas for the kids. They sat in the other room where Jai began to narrate about their interesting experiences at school. “You know Aayi, Sanya reads the best in the class. She even got an A grade in reading and writing. And, the art teacher is all praises for her drawing skills. And she makes Mathematics so simple.” “Wait Wait!” Aayi said, trying to interrupt his train of words. “Have your juice first.” She instructed. Somehow, she was relieved after meeting Sanya as she did not fail to impress her. Her dispositions, mannerisms and outlook startled her and she was overjoyed at the meaning and depth of their bond. Her influence was profound as she had witnessed a progressive transformation in his son. He seemed to have improved in every front- Be it academics or his attitude towards his friends and family.

“It is getting late. Ammi would be waiting at home.” Sanya whispered in Jai’s ear. Aayi captured that murmur and seemed to understand. She gave an affectionate hug to Sanya as she got up from the chair. She formally thanked her for being so kind and hospitable. As she was entered the drawing-room to head towards the door, she saw Mr. Deshpande immersed in reading. “It would be very kind of you to visit my house. I stay nearby at Azma mansion. Probably Jai can come over with Rashi.”

Mr. Deshpande stopped reading immediately. He shot a grave look at Sanya and sternly asked, “Are you the daughter of Asif Iqbal Siddhiqui?”

Sanya grew pale. She could not fathom the significance of such an abrupt question. “Yes.” She stammered. The color of Aayi’s face vanished. Mr. Deshpande walked to the other room in agitation. Mrs. Deshpande tried to conceal the awkward departure of her husband by her false smile. Jai was as dumbfounded as she was. With a perplexed look, Sanya departed.

While walking back, her mind was flooded with thoughts. She was still struggling to comprehend the nature of the incongruous question asked by Jai’s father. The consequences of having a Muslim surname never made sense to her. She could never understand the meaning of those strange, judgmental gazes that her Ammi received when she went out on the streets dressed in the burqua. She had read about the tumultuous chapter of the Indian partition in her history book but she could never apprehend the lingering bitterness associated with this painful episode that persisted even today. They were not accepted in their own colony as people always cast aspersion on his father’s character as according to religious fanatics, he was a part of the larger group who had communal extremist tendencies. It is a sheer pity that even after so many years of independence from British rule, our stagnated society could not appreciate its plural societal fabric as it continues to alienate a major section of the society by virtue of their religious affiliations.

Sanya always longed for a landscape that was devoid of any kind of social judgment. She craved for a liberating space that could enable her to express herself and realize her true potential. She wanted to be amidst those people who accept her as she was, without using the social lens.

The next day, Sanya was anxiously waiting for Jai. Her mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. She could not be at peace from the previous day as she was contemplating over the perplexing episode.

Suddenly, to her relief, Jai entered the class, looking pale and lost, as if searching for something. Her eye brightened at his arrival. She was about to get up from her bench when he instantly passed by her without even looking at her. She was stunned at this gesture. Probably her idyllic world with Jai was contaminated now with the superfluous social prejudices and regressive beliefs. She has to now look for another landscape.

The chair beside her remained vacant for the entire day. Perhaps, she had to pay the price of being Sanya Siddhiqui.