The coming islamic partition of India and what can be salvaged

[G.Subramaniam]

From Sandeepweb

Mini-pakistan formed street by street by low level jihadism



I was born in a huge ancestral house in a small town near Bangalore where I was raised for three years and visited it several times each year till 1993-94. My locality comprised some 6-7 blocks, a sizeable area inhabited almost completely by Hindus—only a few tiny Muslim houses existed on the fringes of this locality. Almost all houses on my road, which stretched for about half a kilometre, were spacious by any standard (if I recall correctly, the “smallest” house was built on a land measuring about 4000 Sq ft).



One of these Muslim houses was owned by a fellow who was running a lorry transport business with exactly one lorry at his disposal. Nobody knows when or how he made it big but what we knew was the fact that he purchased the huge house of a family friend in our locality—5-6 blocks from where we lived. Our family friend simply couldn’t resist the enormous sum he offered.



Things began to change slowly but steadily.



During my summer vacation after that land deal, I noticed how completely the house had changed. The compound wall, which was made of stone and was scalable even by kids, was now tall and imposing and painted green. An enormous dome visible even from a long distance jutted out from the middle of the compound inside, dwarfing the tall compound wall. Stuff was engraved in Urdu all over the green wall.



That change was stark and shocking and is still embedded in my memory because that was the house I used to walk into with childish impunity and have all my tantrums catered to by the erstwhile inmates. Other changes began to occur, although not with such utterness. Over the years, that man began to buy out smaller Hindu houses using the same tactic of monetary lure. He then rented them out to his friends, relatives, and employees.



And then in the course of about 7-8 years, two new mosques made their appearance in my locality. Then, a government doctor who lived opposite my house was transferred to Bangalore. He let out his house to a relative of that transport guy. Elsewhere in the locality, there was a sudden increase in the population of pigs. Eventually, these beasts multiplied phenomenally and spilled over to our street and claimed it. Waste and filth flooded the already-overflowing public garbage pits. Municipal lorries were prohibited from picking them up. Complaints to authorities fell on deaf ears.



When the government doctor returned to inspect his house after 2 years, he was appalled to note how comprehensively the tenants had altered it. He simply named a price, sold it to the tenants, and left town forever. A couple of years later, the palatial home at the end of my road—our ancestral home stood at the other end—was bought out by some rich Muslim grain merchant. Other developments had occurred in parallel. I was in college then. One October, I woke up to the fact that the community Ganesha festival had been discontinued that year for good. Apparently, the “troubles” had began to gradually escalate over the past 3-4 years. Muslim neighbours would complain to the cops about the loud devotional songs. The cops would rush in and shut the festivities down not after bitter altercations with the festival organizers. The pandals that housed the Ganesha idol would be mysteriously slashed overnight. Fruits and vegetables set as offering for the God would disappear.



And then finally, it hit home. During different festivals that we used to celebrate throughout the year, our family priests who came home to conduct puja would be “accidentally” touched by Muslim youth roaming on the street—which itself had by now, become a common occurrence. When this “accident” increased in frequency, the priests stopped coming home. Then, grandmother gradually got used to being greeted by generous amounts of pig excreta, which awaited her every morning when she woke up to clean the compound. The pig excreta seemed to materialize overnight, every night. The compound stayed clean throughout the day till bedtime. Equally, my uncles and aunts and all our tenant-families who lived in the compound got used to listening to loud and vulgar obscenities exchanged between Muslim youths who thronged outside our gate indulging in friendly banter. Nobody could ask them to leave.



By then, the entire locality had become completely Islamic.



And so, ultimately, we sold the house standing on a land of 10,000 Sq Ft in 1993-94 for a kingly ransom of 40,000 rupees.