notes from a fort

There is a dull candor around town now-a-days. It is the color of cement. And its been painted on the sky, hiding the bright blue skies of any other October. 

Last Sunday an Aunt (who settled) in Guntur called. I asked her why she wasnt here?

"Werent you supposed to be here a week ago?"

Brief silence and then "You Telangana folks dont want us!"

What?

She had started and had been stalled somewhere en-route and the scared bus driver decided to turn back. I told her that we in Hyderabad are absoutely fine - working normal days. It was a class lie used by someone who doesnt need need the RTC-Bus.

"Thats because you are a local!" she said. We are bad people there.

I felt the line, not as the boundary between Telangana and Andhra but between you and us. But this is a sign of times, a will of the majority, a change inevitable - my aunt must accept it and so should I. That doesnt mean we shouldnt feel sad about it. When did movements become this unkind - that they should rob us even the feeling of genuine loss?

But that was last Sunday. Today we were with a real estate agent. I needed a flat I asked him in the local language. We laughed and spoke, he warming up to a business idea and me wanting to bargain. Thus far any normal business transaction. Until amidst some jokes he asked me:

"Where are you from?"

"Born and brought up in Hyderabad."

Did I not understand the question "I mean" he insisted "where are your parents from - Andhra or Telangana?"

How did it matter? I thought and said so. Later, outside, I wondered if I really was that naive! Ofcourse it mattered to the agent and thats why he asked me. I blew my chances by not committing. But then again wouldnt my answer depend on which side he is on? Shouldnt I be Andhra origin for Andhra folks and Telangana for people from here. But then again - why did he want to know? Does he maintain a list and will he mark my home with a cross - to be burned by the 40 thieves. How can I blend in?

These are tough days to be a Hyderabadi - striked against, boycotted, hounded in and bullied. Perhaps it is a time of a revolution - but if it helps remember that the sky hasnt been cemented in. It is still blue, still any old October.