Free Holi Dance, Story and Craft Workshop
Join us for a fun session of Dance, Craft & Stories with Ms. Ajanta, the award-winning co-author of Maya/Neel books and co-founder of Bollywood Groove.
Book Review – Multicultural Children’s Book Day 2022
Book Review – If you were me and lived in…
Multicultural Children’s Book Day continues to be one of my favorite events of the year!
bG for India: COVID Relief Fundraiser!
Let’s dance and help those in need. India is suffering terribly but we can all make a difference. Join us for bG Cardio on May 18 and 25th at 6 pm CENTRAL
100% of the proceeds will be donated towards India COVID relief.
JOIN THIS GROUP TO ATTEND AND DONATE: https://www.facebook.com/groups/bGCardio
Why I co-wrote the Eid book? Part 2
Ready for part two? This one is a bit more intense.
If you haven’t read part 1, take a read here.
I was in 7th or 8th grade when communal riots broke out in my own city, Bhopal. Violence erupted and we were in a constant state of fear.
Rumor in the air was that the house right behind ours that belonged to a Muslim family was going to get burned. They had two small kids and were petrified.
Everyone watched helplessly but do you know what my parents did? They opened up their doors to hide this family in safety. For them, this wasn’t about who belonged to what faith. It was a simple act of being a human that transcended any divisions we have created among ourselves.
That evening, the family quietly came into our house to hide. I still remember the little boy crouching behind our couch. The girl was too little to really register what was happening and probably thought of it as some kind of adventure.
My parents knew what kind of danger we were putting ourselves into. My sister and I slept with knives under our pillows that night.
Deep into the night, the rioters came with torches and their house caught fire. At some point, the family’s relative came by and took them from our house. They were now in a safe neighborhood, surrounded by people of their own faith.
None of this is one-sided. You will hear stories with much worse outcomes from people on both sides. But what stood out to me was my parents’ stance and their act of bravery. The ability to look beyond differences. The ability to simply love.
Why I co-wrote the Eid book? Part 1
People often ask me why I wrote this book. Unlike for other books, this is a layered question. What they are really asking sometimes is that why someone who was raised in a Hindu family, decided to write about a Muslim festival.
So here it goes. And hang tight, because this is quite a story!
The seed was sown when I was a little girl and would ask my mom to tell me the story of her lost beloved home, over and over.
My mom was born before India was partitioned, in what is now Bangladesh. Land and natural beauty were in plenty back then! They had a beautiful house with a pond, dozens of fruit trees, and whatnot.
Image credit: Re-thinking the future.
Then came the dreadful phase of the country splitting up. Communal riots erupted with extreme violence. Hindus fled Bangladesh and Muslims fled the West Bengal state of India.
My grandpa had already moved to West Bengal for a job to support his family. So here was my grandma, all alone, with her kids when they had to make the heartbreaking decision to leave their home overnight.
They packed up whatever little they could and made the dangerous journey over to Kolkata. And just like that, they lost everything. For my mom, who was 9 at the time, it wasn’t the loss of money or possessions but the loss of that charming little house and the idyllic garden that left her heartbroken.
Years later, they learned that a Muslim person who used to come by to drop milk at the house took over the property. This isn’t a one-sided story. Identical things happened in India too.
Till the very end, my mom held onto the memories of her beloved lost home. She could describe each tree, each fruit, each spot in that garden. Although it could have been so easy to harbor these feelings, I never sensed any hatred or dislike targeted towards anyone. All I sensed was a sadness about the futility of communal disagreements that sometimes turn violent and cause destruction.
These stories shaped my childhood in more ways than I had realized. The next story is one of an unusual mix of hope and despair. Stay tuned…