Different faiths share many core celebrations, and offer hope during troubled times: Opinion

Different faiths share many core celebrations, and offer hope during troubled times: Opinion

Twenty-one years ago, when I came to America from India, I was amazed by its opportunities. Wasting no time, I started a software company that will celebrate its 22nd birthday next May. Doing business in the country was more straightforward, and accessibility to various institutions was much more comfortable than in India. However, when it came to how our president is elected, I still can’t say I have all the answers.

After a few years here, I realized that not everything between the two countries is different. Both are democracies, of course. More remarkable to me has been how America resembles India in look and spirit during their respective year-end holiday seasons. Homes, offices and markets in both countries are lit up during this period because of the different festivals and traditions each country celebrates.

For Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hannukah, Christmas and New Year’s Eve here during these weeks, India has Dussehra, Diwali, Bandi Chhor Diwas, Guru Nanak’s birth anniversary, Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Diwali is the greatest of them and celebrated nationally in October or November as per the dictates of the lunar calendar. It is celebrated on the same scale as Christmas in America and other Western countries.

Diwali is also called the “festival of lights,” and fireworks are an integral part of the celebration. Thanks to last year’s efforts and the initiative of Jay Muthukamatchi, it became possible for the first time in Delaware to buy and sell fireworks 30 days before every Diwali.

Halloween reminds me of Lohri (a bonfire celebration), which falls in the middle of January. Looking at boys and girls in the neighborhood going from door to door asking, “Trick or treat?” I recall my Lohri days as a young boy going with a group of other boys to various houses on my home street and adjoining lanes asking for “Lohri!”


The grand Annakut celebration at the BAPS Swaminarayan Mandir (Temple) in New Castle. During the celebration, there is an offering of different kinds of goods to God, accompanied by prayer. Annakut is part of the five day Diwali, or “Festival of Lights,” which coincides with the Hindu New Year and is celebrated around the world by millions of Hindus, Sikhs and Jains.

Neighborhood folks gave us cooked groundnuts and traditional Lohri sweets made from jaggery. It was incumbent upon those neighborhood houses to be extra generous in giving where a son’s wedding had recently happened, or they had been blessed with a male child. The gender bias has since largely passed, but unfortunately some of it still lingers on.

I am a Sikh. In Thanksgiving, I see the personification of Sarbat Da Bhala (prosperity, well-being, and glory of the whole universe) spirit. Every Sikh prayer, no matter what occasion, day, time, and place, ends with these three words: Sarbat Da Bhala.

I, too, said these words with everyone else because I had seen my parents, siblings, relatives and other Sikhs do the same. But I understood its essence only after arriving here in America and experiencing Thanksgiving and learning its background. To me, native Indians had enacted and personified the Sarbat Da Bhala’s underlying meaning in the Sikh prayer.

This year, while I am happy to see lights on neighbors’ houses and front yards, I can also see apprehension in many of their faces about what this election and the days and weeks following it will bring. Maybe the lights are illuminating the darkness convulsing our hearts and minds ravaged by the soaring coronavirus numbers, historic unemployment, increasing pain and suffering of the poor and vulnerable, and divisions like never before among this country’s various communities.

Regardless of whether America retains Trump or sends our Delaware’s Joe Biden to the White House, I want and wish that there be a light for everyone in the embrace of hope and peace.


Delaware Air National Guard Adjutant General Carol Timmons (center left) speaks with Charanjeet Singh Minhas of the Delaware Sikh Awareness Coalition at a Thanksgiving prayer breakfast.

Fortunately, I know of many ordinary Delawareans doing extraordinary work toward that goal: veterans in the Interfaith Veterans Workshop group founded by Rev. Tom Davis; members in my writing group, Brandywine Writers Circle, founded and led by Joan Leof; and a host of others — pastors, imams, rabbis, Hindu and Sikh priests in Delaware — who are part of efforts to spread love and peace and defeat hatred and violence.

They are all — in their languages, in their traditions, in their own homes or their places of worship, in their own words and ways — praying for Sarbat Da Bhala.

We vote for a president in November — and can choose a livable planet | Opinion

We vote for a president in November — and can choose a livable planet | Opinion

As many observers have noted, the human and economic toll from the COVID-19 pandemic outbreak is unprecedented in our lifetimes. The disease spares some and ravages others and will not stop until we find a solution in the form of a vaccine and effective treatments.

One of the first symptoms health professionals look for in a potentially COVID-infected patient is fever; the abnormal warming of the body tells us something is wrong.

There is an unsettling parallel in rising earth temperature, popularly referred to as “global warming.” Scientists, experts, and activists who know and care about climate change are aware of how seriously this planet is ailing. They predict its illness will grow in just a few years to cataclysmic and irreversible levels. The rest of us are ignoring its symptoms: increasing atmospheric temperatures, superstorms, droughts, tsunamis, floods, degraded soils, rising sea levels, and more. These symptoms tell us that the earth is sick and does not have much more time.

If the disease goes unchecked, it will metastasize into global conflict and human tragedy, which will cause even more environmental damage in a devastating cycle of destruction.

 


President Donald Trump speaks from the South Lawn of the White House on the fourth day of the Republican National Convention, Thursday, Aug. 27, 2020, in Washington. (AP Photo/Evan Vucci)

 

I am a Sikh, and most of the world’s 28 million Sikhs live in India’s Punjab region, where I was born and raised. As in other parts of the world, water scarcity and distribution comprise an existential issue in this predominately agricultural state. Drought is a constant reality. In a sad irony, efforts to more effectively manage scarce water resources through more modern farming techniques and seed varieties have caused increased carbon emissions, which exacerbate global warming and lead to more drought in dry regions.

However, the crisis is not isolated to India. Man’s unbridled pursuit of convenience, wealth and territory, often fueled by misguided cultural and religious differences, have contributed to catastrophes around the world. Many of us have witnessed the evidence for ourselves.

 


Audience members watch from their cars as Democratic presidential candidate former Vice President Joe Biden, seen on a large monitor, speaks during a CNN town hall moderated by Anderson Cooper in Moosic, Pa., Thursday, Sept. 17, 2020. Carolyn Kaster, AP

 

My former teacher, Tilak Raj Arora, a climber, mountaineer and environmentalist from his high school days and currently working for YMCA in Halifax, Nova Scotia, told me that he remembers seeing the results of Saddam Hussein’s order to burn the Kuwaiti oil fields 30 years ago.

“I could see the soot from there on Himalayan glaciers,” he said. “It trapped the heat from the sun, causing melting.”

The scourge of natural resources exploitation and pollution is across countries and continents, including many I have visited. Australia’s Great Barrier Reef is highly vulnerable. In the past three decades, it has lost half its coral cover, pollution has caused outbreaks of destructive starfish populations, and global warming has produced horrific coral bleaching.

Even in Morocco, a relatively developed African country, the effects of overgrazing and desertification are visible. South American deforestation, along with landslides and urban development, threaten Machu Picchu in Peru. Intense rainfall, heatwaves, and receding Alpine glaciers illustrate Italy’s climate woes. Because of coastal erosion, Norfolk in the U.K. is sliding into the sea, and other towns like York, Leeds, and Somerset are experiencing frequent flooding. The escalating violent and devastating weather and climate-related events in our own country are familiar to us all.

The only hope for mitigating the injuries from our environmental virus is a firm, courageous, innovative, and scientifically grounded national commitment. That starts with leadership dedicated to prioritizing solutions.

“We’ve run out of time to build new things in old ways,” Rob Jackson of Stanford University told Justin Worland of Time magazine.

We have seen the current administration’s retrograde position on just about everything, including climate change. Look no further than the withdrawal of the U.S. from the Paris Agreement to reduce greenhouse gases.

Many of us are praying for a new administration capable of healing our pandemic, economic, cultural and environmental illnesses. Some see Joe Biden’s selection of Kamala Harris for vice-president as a major step in that direction. As a presidential candidate, her climate plan put environmental justice front and center. This month, she and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez introduced the Climate Equity Act in Congress. The act would set up a new Office of Climate and Environmental Justice Accountability within the Office of Management and Budget.

Unsurprisingly, women are in the forefront of these changes. Traditionally they are the healers, the ones we turn to when we are in pain, the ones we seek out for solutions, protection, and comfort.

As women continue to assume more positions of leadership, they may offer new points of view that can lead us back from the brink of irreparable disaster.

As my friend Arora said, women “suffer the most and worry the most about what this climate change will do to their homes and their children.”

Therefore, he asserts, “Only women can save us.”

—————

This column was published online by the https://www.delawareonline.com/ on September 18, 2020.

Joe Biden’s Selection Of Kamala Harris As VP Is Good For Climate Action

Joe Biden’s Selection Of Kamala Harris As VP Is Good For Climate Action

As many observers have noted, the human and economic toll from the COVID-19 pandemic outbreak is unprecedented in our lifetimes. The disease spares some and ravages others and will not stop until we find a solution in the form of a vaccine and effective treatments.

One of the first symptoms health professionals look for in a potentially COVID-infected patient is fever; the body’s abnormal warming tells something is wrong.

There is an unsettling parallel in rising earth temperature, popularly referred to as “global warming.” Scientists, experts, and activists who know and care about climate change are aware of how seriously it is infected. They predict our planet’s infection to grow in just a few years to cataclysmic and irreversible levels. The rest of us are ignoring its symptoms: increasing atmospheric temperatures, superstorms, droughts, tsunamis, floods, degraded soils, rising sea levels, and more. They tell us that it is sick and does not have much more time.

If the disease goes unchecked, it will metastasize into global conflict and human tragedy, which will cause even more environmental damage in a devastating cycle of destruction.

Like many other parts of the world, plunging groundwater levels in Pakistan alongside unpredictable monsoon is an existential issue in the predominately agricultural state. Drought is a constant reality. In a sad irony, efforts to more effectively manage scarce water resources through more modern farming techniques and seed varieties have caused increased carbon emissions, which exacerbate global warming and lead to more drought in dry regions.

However, Pakistan alone is not facing this crisis. Man’s unbridled pursuit of convenience, wealth and territory, often fueled by misguided cultural and religious differences, have contributed to catastrophes around the world. Many of us have witnessed the evidence for ourselves.

My former high school teacher, Tilak Raj Arora, a climber, mountaineer and environmentalist from his high school days and currently working for YMCA in Halifax, Canada, told me that he remembers seeing the results of Saddam Hussein’s order to burn the Kuwaiti oil fields thirty years ago.

“I could see the soot from there on Himalayan glaciers,” he told me. “It trapped the heat from the sun, causing melting.”

The scourge of natural resources exploitation and pollution is across countries and continents, including many I have visited. Australia’s Great Barrier Reef is highly vulnerable. In the past three decades, it has lost half its coral cover, pollution has caused outbreaks of destructive starfish populations, and global warming has produced horrific coral bleaching.

Even in Morocco, a relatively developed African country, the effects of overgrazing and desertification are visible. South American deforestation, along with landslides and urban development, threaten Machu Picchu in Peru. Intense rainfall, heatwaves, and receding Alpine glaciers illustrate Italy’s climate woes. Because of coastal erosion, Norfolk in the U.K. is sliding into the sea, and other towns like York, Leeds, and Somerset are experiencing frequent flooding. The escalating violent and devastating weather and climate-related events here in America are well known.

The only hope for mitigating the injuries from our environmental virus is a firm, courageous, innovative, and scientifically grounded national commitment. That starts with leadership dedicated to prioritizing solutions.

“We have run out of time to build new things in old ways,” Rob Jackson of Stanford University told Justin Worland of Time magazine.

We have seen Trump’s retrograde position on just about everything, including climate change. Look no further than his withdrawal of the U.S. from the Paris Agreement to reduce greenhouse gases.

Many of us are praying for a new administration capable of healing our pandemic, economic, cultural, and environmental illnesses. Some see Joe Biden’s selection of Kamala Harris for vice-president as a historic step in that direction. As a presidential candidate, her climate plan put the environmental justice front and center. This month, she and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez introduced the Climate Equity Act in Congress. The act would set up a new Office of Climate and Environmental Justice Accountability within the Office of Management and Budget.

Unsurprisingly, women are in the forefront of these changes. Traditionally they are the healers, the ones we turn to when we are in pain, the ones we seek out for solutions, protection, and comfort.

As women continue to assume more positions of leadership, they may offer new points of view that can lead us back from the brink of irreparable disaster.

As Mr. Arora said, women “suffer the most and worry the most about what this climate change will do to their homes and children.”

Therefore, he asserts, “Only women can save us.”

—————

This column was published online by the https://nayadaur.tv/ on September 02, 2020.

Why Indians in America don’t support Blacks?

Why Indians in America don’t support Blacks?

It was 1982. I was in my older cousin’s village in India’s Haryana state during my school’s summer holidays.

One morning, while my cousin was watering the paddy fields, which spread all around his tube-well — I saw him signaling a Dalit, or an “untouchable,” girl standing in the middle of the fields. She came over to us. Next, as if the two had been rehearsing this scene for a long time, both silently entered the bricked enclosure that sheltered the well.

“Keep looking…no one should come on this side…ten minutes,” he told me while folding the wooden planks of the room door shut.

I was old enough to know what happened in “ten minutes,” but did not understand the reasons behind the depraved sexual exploitation until much later. The fields, with or without crops, were — and still are in many Indian villages — the only open-air toilets in the places that lacked septic or sewage services. The tube-wells for most villagers were their single source of water and its tanks their most convenient destinations for washing laundry and large pots.

Landless lower castes, especially Dalits, submitted to the upper caste farmers’ exploitation in return for permission to use these facilities. How could they survive without the tube-well water and using the fields?

Just like that young city boy in the 1982 Indian village, I knew nothing about racism in America when I landed here twenty-one years ago. Even now, I struggle with the question, “What is your race?” asked on a form or an application. For Indians, it is easy to identify one’s caste simply because it is part of everyone’s name.

I had read that equality and liberty for all are guaranteed by the law, by the constitution, in America — it is securely lodged in the scripture of this great country. America’s economic and military muscle along with its international clout punished countries it accused of violating human rights. Upon arrival here, however, I learned that the same laws and the same constitution, when first written, failed to prevent one man from owning another. Black was the property of white. Legally. The owner could deed his or her possession to another like the title of a car.

Those who owned black people, stolen and kidnapped from Africa, included twelve American presidents, even the one who declared, “All men are created equal.”

In becoming a citizen of the U.S., I was shocked to learn all this but pushed it aside, ascribing it to a painful past not relevant in today’s America, one that lectures the whole world on human rights and values.

I learned differently on a Thursday in May of 2011, when two white guys and a girlfriend of one of them called me and my two friends “niggers” while we enjoyed a drink at a local establishment. For no reason.

When my friends went out to smoke, these three attacked them. The cops came and took us to the hospital because my friends needed stitches. The white judge gave the most violent of the trio only a six-month suspended sentence despite his long history of violence.

But I finally realized the ugly truth after watching and watching and watching George Floyd’s murder video. Derek Chauvin’s regally planted knee on George Floyd’s neck with his hand in the pocket was a proclamation that the white man is the undisputed master of the black man — a theatrical performance matching Ku Klux Klan (KKK) era public events. Bystanders’ pleas of mercy and “he can’t breathe” warnings gave the choker the high he needed to underscore his sense of superiority, impunity and entitlement.

Chauvin was aware he was being filmed and the whole world was watching him. In KKK tradition, the audience and the witnesses only made him more determined. He knew he had allies across America: The White House resident, Congress, judges, all Americans who elected Trump president for “taking America back” — as former KKK Grand Wizard, David Duke’s tweet proclaimed after Trump’s election and cabinet picks.

The only difference from the earlier KKK days was that Chauvin no longer needed to cover his face.

During their 200-year rule of India, the English abolished Sati — the self-immolation of the widow on the funeral pyre of her husband — quickly and resolutely but left caste cruelties intact.

They are natural allies, racism and casteism. They share so much in common.

Last year my wife was at her friend’s son’s birthday party in a local county park. The birthday boy’s older sibling had invited his black girlfriend and her family to the venue. When they arrived, the host family prayed for the earth to crack open and swallow them. The boys’ grandmother told my wife, “I don’t know what sins I did that my grandson, so intelligent and capable, is showing us this day…I don’t know where to hide my face.”

This colorism is a deeply ingrained issue in India and among Indians globally. In Punjab the saying goes, “Never trust a black Brahmin.” So, even though colorism existed in India before the Europeans’ arrival, the imperialists’ conquests and rule permanently embedded white superiority in Indian minds.

Most Indians in America are upper caste, not necessarily Brahmins, the top caste, but non-Dalits. (In 2003, only 1.5 percent of Indian immigrants in the United States were Dalits or members of lower castes, according to the Center for the Advanced Study of India at the University of Pennsylvania.) They view blacks as Dalits and adore whites as their role models and revere them more than their temple priests. They call whites “fair” no matter how unfair they are treated by them. They are their role models in life and look. That’s why Unilever’s “Fair and Lovely” whitening cream did $500 million of business in India in 2019.

Many South Asians have indiscriminately borrowed the white supremacist lexicon — blacks are inferior, dumb, dangerous, criminals, drug dealers and always on food stamps — and many refer to them as “habshi” — a derogatory Indian term for black people — in their interpersonal and communal conversations. An Urdu translation of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” I am presently reading uses the term in reference to blacks.

I was surprised and disappointed to see the Indian-American community’s apathy toward George Floyd’s killing in my boarding school and engineering college WhatsApp groups and during discussions with friends and colleagues. I was shocked to hear and read, “What’s wrong with police killing a criminal?”

The millennia-long caste apartheid has made upper-caste Indians insensitive to discrimination. Years in college have given them the skills to earn but no reason to learn basic human values. Here in America, they have no Dalit friends. Research and surveys by Equality Labs show it categorically. No wonder that the immutable attitudes and approaches ensure ongoing discrimination.

Do they differ, racism and casteism?

Like most things western, racism was planted with objectivity in mind, namely its perceived economic benefits. In contrast, India’s casteism was primarily perpetuated because of subjective sociological distinctions. It is impossible for the colored to escape racism because skin color can’t be changed or hidden. However, in India today it is possible, though difficult, to sneak out of the caste cage. Those with education or skills can shed the crushing weight of the caste pyramid by moving to big cities where caste is not as visible. Some stop using their last names or change them to avoid caste identification.

Racism’s foundation is materialistic — economic exploitation. Cravings for status and power built the labyrinths of casteism. But their benefits are not mutually exclusive.

The Indians who don’t oppose white racism in support of the Black Lives Matter movement don’t realize that a white supremacist America will hurt and kill their children and grandchildren in the years ahead because they are perceived as blacks. Remember that white supremacy by its very name devalues and vilifies any non-white culture. The racially motivated attacks on Jews, Muslims and Sikhs in this country are proof of that. So why the growing Indian community in this country don’t realize this truth? At first, their numbers were too small to invite the attention of racists. Take the case of H1B visas. How drastically the reaction and reception changed over the last 20–25 years?

Democratic institutions and technological advancements haven’t loosened the grips of racism and casteism as many had hoped and wished. It is interesting to note that virtually all of the most successful Indian executives in America are of the Brahmin caste. If the New World’s most successful companies’ ownership remains white, its top management is becoming increasingly Indian upper caste. Is it an accident that Indira Nooyi (former Pepsico CEO), Satya Nadella (Microsoft CEO), Sunder Pichai (Google and Alphabet CEO), Shantanu Narayen (Adobe CEO), and Arvind Krishna (IBM CEO) — are all Brahmins. Ajay Banga, the Mastercard CEO, is no Dalit. The list is long and growing.

There are many who use data to argue how one race or caste is superior, more capable than others. Is the comparison fair? Haven’t the centuries of deprivation and subjugation played an undermining role in blacks’ lives? Don’t better facilities and opportunities have an enabling role? If not, why has no Indian citizen won a Nobel Prize in science or economics since the country’s independence in 1947? Only Indians who migrated to the U.S. and U.K have: Har Gobind Khorana (Medicine), Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar (Physics), Venkatraman Ramakrishnan (Chemistry), Amartya Sen (Economics), and Abhijit Banerjee (Economics).

The only Pakistani, and the first Muslim — ironically, Pakistan didn’t consider him Muslim because he was Ahmadi — to get a Nobel Prize was Mohammed Abdus Salam, but only after his immigration to the U.K. Even the aforementioned Indian CEOs accomplished their stellar successes only after arriving in the U.S.

The solutions to inequality are — as the old saying goes — simple but not easy. Whether a Dalit in a squalid Indian village or a black child in an American slum, only equal education and opportunity over time can improve their lives collectively. As long as those benefits are restricted to the wealthy and powerful and to those of a certain skin color, caste, racism and discrimination will thrive. The availability of a long-term stimulating environment determines how living species grow. Until we commit to providing that nurturing opportunity to all people, regardless of color or caste, we have no right to judge them in ways that are unfair, unethical, and inhumane.

—————

This column was published online by the https://medium.com/ on July 30, 2020.

First-hand experience of racism in US

First-hand experience of racism in US

I am a Sikh born and raised in India. Twenty-one years ago, when I came to the US, I knew nothing about racism in this country. Even now, I struggle with the question, ‘What is your race?’ asked on a form or an application.

In India, I was aware of the mobs of one religion killing people of another faith, and, people of one caste discriminating against others. No such primitive and uncivilised stuff, I was told, happens in America — the world’s wealthiest and most advanced nation.

I was told that equality and liberty of everyone are guaranteed by the law, by the constitution here — it was securely lodged in the scripture of this great country. Upon arrival here, however, I learned that the same laws and the same constitution, when first written, had allowed one man to own another. Black was the property of white, legally. The owner could deed his or her possession to another like the title of a car. Those who owned black people, stolen and kidnapped from Africa, included 12 American Presidents, even the one who declared, ‘All men are created equal.’

In becoming a citizen of the US, I was shocked to learn all this, but pushed it aside, thinking it is a painful past not relevant in today’s America. I learned differently on a Thursday in the May of 2011, when two white men and a girlfriend of one of them called me and two of my friends ‘niggers’ — for no reason — while we were enjoying a drink at a local establishment. When my friends went out to smoke, these three attacked them. Cops came and took us to the hospital because my friends needed stitches. The white judge gave the most violent of the trio only a six-month suspended sentence, despite a long history of violence.

But I finally realised the ugly truth after watching again and again George Floyd’s murder video. Derek Chauvin’s regally planted knee on Floyd’s neck, with his hand in the pocket, was a declaration of superiority and impunity. He knew he had allies across America.

And just when I think things are changing — the dismantling of offensive statues across America, the removal of Confederate flags, the Black Lives Matter movement, the banning of choke-holds and knee-holds — the President of the United States posts a video of one his supporters chanting ‘white power’.

For someone who worked hard to escape a culture where discrimination is woven into the fabric of life, I realise now that I expected too much, too soon from my new country. But I remain hopeful. Despite their faults, and we all have them, its founding fathers built into the system a mechanism for change — voting.

If we can keep that process free from interference, both external and domestic, we still can keep moving toward a nation of ‘liberty and justice for all’. It is true of India, too.

—————

This column was published online by the https://www.tribuneindia.com/ on July 10, 2020.

Eid’s Seviyan

Eid’s Seviyan

Sometimes, claims of “greatness” can skew into unintended directions with unfortunate and ironic consequences. The current administration in Washington loves to boast that the U.S. is number one in most all things. Sadly, this is true in one regard: America tops the world coronavirus infection list.

According to fivethirtyeight.com’s latest polling numbers, 43 percent of Americans still approve of Trump’s presidency. If the Covid-19 numbers are an indication, he has certainly delivered on his promise to“Make America Great Again!”

I live in Delaware, the country’s second smallest state, which has stayed true to its low visibility reputation. Although it is called the First State because it was the first to ratify the U.S. Constitution, it may be the last state anyone thinks of, even in this country.

How unknown is Delaware? During a trip to Patiala when I was frequently visiting India, an acquaintance in Model Town asked me,“Gill Sahib was saying your family is in Amrika?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Really? If so, why do you live here then?” he asked, as if he had caught me lying.

“I, too, live there,” I said with a smile.

He seemed baffled and started looking at my friend, Ajay Singla, who was standing next to me.

“Okay, if you insist…then tell me where in Amrika, California or New York?”

“Delaware,” I replied.

“No, no, hear me properly, I am not asking about your software business in Bangalore.”

Delaware is truly nice and quiet, relatively speaking, even though it has not been spared the effects of the pandemic. Many of us miss the traditional gatherings and events that we cherish. For example, this year I missed hosting the annual interfaith iftar dinner during Ramadan on behalf of Delaware Sikh Awareness Coalition. It was always a pleasure to behold 400-500 men, women, and children of various faiths and ethnicities intermingling in the joyous spirit of sarbat da bhala.

Well, as one of my teachers in P.P.S. Nabha used to often say, “When you genuinely wish something, Waheguru will always show the way.” So, on the day of Eid, I prepared a number of gift bags. In addition to the boxes of sweets and dates, I included a handmade Eid Mubarak card prepared by my daughter’s college friend, who comes from Islamabad and has stayed with us since the evacuation from their university campus because of the Covid crisis.

In the message on the card, I showed off my recently learned Urdu and drove around dropping off bags outside my Muslim friends’ houses. My Eid satisfaction was made even sweeter when one of the recipients, Khalid Motorvala, dropped off a bowl of seviyan outside my door that same evening.

As for Delaware, its relative obscurity may be coming to an end because it could be that the nation’s next president will come from our little state, which really would be a first for the First State.