‘Bangaliana’ ethos that animates our beliefs, city of joy's togetherness during Eid
Telegraph | 1 April 2025
“There is no compulsion in religion.”
Verse 2:256 of the Holy Quran encourages engagement in respectful dialogue with people from different faiths and recognises shared beliefs and tolerance.
Ramzan is a month of exercising self-discipline, of abstaining from creature comforts and of giving, to the best of our abilities, to those in need. It is a call for spiritual growth and encourages reconciliation and empathy.
That is why the basis of the holy month remains relevant in these times of global inequality, unrest and divisiveness. The rituals of distributing Zakat and Fitr serve as powerful tools to bridge societal gaps. These acts of charity, associated with Eid-Ul-Fitr, are not just religious obligations but a call for economic justice and shared humanity. It is a reminder that faith is not only personal but a social process, meant to uplift the weakest among us.
I come from a devout Bengali Muslim family with roots in Murshidabad and Birbhum. The best years of my life have been spent as a Jacobean and then a Xaverian, under the tutelage of Christian educationists and I have married a Hindu Brahmin. I state this as a ‘not too uncommon’ setting for many Indians in similar situations, living peacefully for years.
If there has been a consistent love interest in my life, it is certainly Calcutta. This city has shaped me as a person.
In Calcutta, ‘Bangaliana’ is not only a way of life but an ethos that animates our beliefs.
Much of the “differences”, “debates” and “discussions” between our two families before our wedding was diffused over “belonging” to Mohun Bagan, agreeing that Maniktala was a better fish market (we are emotionally attached with the process of buying and cooking fish the “correct” way!) than Park Circus Market and our common political ideologies.
The basis of every religion is to bring people together, in shared living, in empathy and to organise us into community existence. No religion preaches divisiveness. It is on us if we allow people with narrow interests to interpret the tenets of our religion to us, even when it is clear that they are doing so to serve their selfish purposes.
When hundreds attend kirtans, or play Holi together, when large congregations pray in churches, when the bigger the jamaat the more “sunnat” one earns while offering namaz, then why are we rethinking what each religion preaches?
My wife and I have prayed at the Bom Jesus Basilica and our school churches. My in-laws and my Hindu friends offer puja in my name, too, just as I offer namaz daily at home and pray for my dear ones. This is what Eid and all other festivals mean to us in Calcutta.
Eid means waking up to the smell of home-cooked delicacies, offering namaz with friends and family on Red Road in pristine white clothes and an open house for my friends and family, irrespective of their religious beliefs.
In our city, Eid is not a festival restricted to Muslims. People from different faiths participate in the Iftar gatherings. You don’t have to be a Muslim to enjoy haleem or biryani. There is something beautiful about hundreds of people breaking the fast together. It is a reflection of the human urge to stay together.
I grew up playing carrom and cricket in the golis of north Calcutta and among friends from different communities.
I had many friends from the Anglo-Indian community, their distinctive culture, cuisine and way of life is another beautiful thread woven into the mosaic of this city. Calcutta holds in her heart the flame and warmth of festivities. We visit Park Street and Bow Barracks during Christmas, we enjoy the Iftar spread at Zakaria Street during Ramzan and we go pandal hopping or meet old friends at Maddox Square with equal enthusiasm during Durga Puja.
I am seriously involved with the Durga Puja of my para club in Hazra, which is 83 years old.
Religious festivals are a time to come together as a community.
Does this mean I have never felt othered? The trick is not to allow it to burn a grudge into our hearts.
Only the unintelligent will hold on to the insensitive and hurtful behaviour of a few and overlook the love and goodness of the majority.
Every individual is entitled to their own choices and opinions. That is the crux of democracy. A progressive society allows differences of opinion to coexist instead of feeling threatened by them. Real education is being tolerant towards various views. A friend with a different opinion doesn’t become a foe.
Let us live exactly like we have been living over the centuries! History may be rewritten, even forgotten, but the past resides unchanged in history. And this is where, as responsible world citizens, we need to remain vanguards against anything that divides and breeds hatred in the name of God, in the name of gender, language or any other barbed wire.
I believe overthinking about religion and attaching too much importance to rituals may cloud our thoughts in times when we need to ask the right questions and act upon the pertinent things.
We are on the brink of far more pressing crises right now — climate change is real, we have poisoned our air, the next big war will probably be over drinking water, the world economy is swinging towards a dangerous low and the only commerce that seems to be happening is over weapons for war.
As responsible adults, let us remember that we are answerable to our children. They will not ask which religion we practice but will call us out for our torpor, accusing us for what we have done to this beautiful planet.
For Indians like me, living in the city of Joy, Eid-Ul- Fitr will forever be a time for spiritual recharge, a time to reset our conscience so we can act upon making the world a safer, happier place for every living being. May Eid-ul-Fitr usher in a world where we live together with more acceptance and much more compassion.