The shire of humanity

BY RANI JHALA

Exhausted after a difficult day, Elizabeth Sealy seated herself in front of the TV. She enjoyed her work, but there was no challenge left in it. She fought her cases and won most; then she came home tired to her cup of tea and her favourite shows.

Just as always, the news anchor informed the masses of the day’s happenings. Yesterday’s news, revamped as today’s headlines. But this evening, the scene that unfolded caught her attention. A meeting at a local town had been filmed. Agitated voices expressed arguments. But Elizabeth was a lawyer, an extremely successful one. And what she heard over the din was a desire to hold on to the past by some, and a fear of changes that the future would bring, by others.

The meeting had been called by the local council, in the hope of bringing about an amicable solution. On the one side stood the local residents, on the other side were the neolocals from a diverse faith. One did not want a new shire; the other was desperate to have a place of worship. One feared their culture would get eradicated, the other hoping to hold on to a part of theirs. One lot did not want any changes in their country, the other lot hoped to keep up with the changes that were already in progress. The first feared their religion would be overtaken, the second feared theirs would be lost. But underlying all these varied emotions was the need to stay true to faiths, and a struggle to understand the true meaning of multiculturalism.

As expected, the meeting did not produce a solution. The council became wary of giving approval and the meeting ended with ‘no conclusions’.

And then Elizabeth saw him. The tall man wearing immaculate clothing, making his way slowly, to the front of the crowd, shaking hands with those he passed. Both sides were known to him, both sides received acknowledgements. As he said goodbye to the local leader, the camera picked up on the leader’s comment, “Ash, this is not personal. But a precedent will be set, and we fear that the changes that will come will be undesirable. There will be the unavoidable increase in traffic, the demand for more amenities and conveniences. Our domestic neighbourhood will become a thoroughfare for visitors. We don’t want to see our beautiful community tear each other apart when problems occur, and they will. There will always be a clash of cultures.”

Calmly the man replied, “I understand that fear, but pushing the problem onto another suburb or community cannot be the answer either. If you let us be in residence, then you must give us the privilege to worship without having to travel to the ends of the earth.”

At that moment Elizabeth knew that this was the calling she had been waiting for! Secure in her personal belief, unthreatened by moral dominance and secular in her religious views, she rang the TV station. By the next afternoon she had made contact with Ash and they met over coffee.

She convinced him, that discussions do not change history. Only the law has the power to do that. She offered to be their representative. She assured him of her support.

During the next six months they met daily. She learnt of his beliefs, he read up on hers. She fought his verbal battles, he wrote the emotional pleas. But the path they had taken was a difficult one, emotional and soul-searing; it called for fortitude and demanded perseverance. If anything blossomed in those difficult days, it was love between two people, so different by birth, so similar in view.

Finally the day in court arrived. It had been Elizabeth’s idea to tell Ash’s story. She had said,

“It is not enough to just feel, you must make others feel. You must tell them what you have told me and what your heart tells you every day.” And so Ash’s life became the first exhibit.

“This is Ash’s adopted country and he remains loyal to it. Proud of the land that gave him birth and glad for the opportunity to be linked to both. He gave up the language of his birth so that he could learn the language of this land. He changed his name, from Ashwant to Ash, so he could blend in.

When you go to another country, it is your duty to accept their rules, to embrace their principles and forge bonds with their citizens. At the same time, when a country accepts you, it is their duty to welcome you, to bridge friendships and to tolerate differences.

What we are asking for, is not to change what exists now. What exists here, is what attracted most migrants in the first place. Materialistic and emotional values can be adapted or compromised for a greater cause, but the spiritual need of man, asks to be met. Yes, he goes to churches, mosques and temples. Yes, he says prayers of different faiths. But on three occasions, only your own religion can perform the rites - at birth, marriage and death. You need a place for that to happen. You need a ‘shire’ for salvation.

True he can drive two hours to an outer suburb, away from ‘native’ places of worship. But how practical would that be with infants and the elderly. How fair would that be, between residents?

The laws of this land will not be broken. The place of worship is for peaceful congregations. All they ask is the right to have a place to worship.

Ash came from a land which was historically invaded. Each brought their faith, and the forced conversions. But neither was the culture nor the religion lost. Even today those that believed, continue to believe.

Yes, society changes, but time does that, nor particular ‘people’. Fear of that change is stillchanging things!”

Elizabeth won for them, their battle. She gave Ash, the ‘Shire of Humanity’. A year later the Shire was standing and at the inauguration, Elizabeth was asked to do the honours. During his opening speech, Ash spoke of the person who was most responsible - Elizabeth Sealy, and dedicated these words to her, “We shall always be indebted to a woman who fought for a cause that was not hers, for a religion she did not belong to, and a people, who were alien.”

This is a work of fiction; however, it is dedicated to a Sydney woman who helped a group of new Australians secure a place of worship for their faith

Biwi or billi?

Dear Auntyji

Some weeks back I wrote to you and told you about this wonderful man I met, who is perfect in every way, but has a strange relationship with his cat. He seems to obsessively love his tirchi ankhon wali, and at first, I thought I would live with him and see what happened. If you recall, I said I disliked cats. Well, now I have developed an allergy to the billi rani and I scratch and itch like I’m a lifelong user of dope. What to do now Auntyji, what to do now? Neel loves the cat and wants a doctor’s opinion that I have an allergy. He says he cannot understand how I can just suddenly develop this condition. I need your help.

Confused Cat-hater

Auntyji says

Oh, you poor little chuhi, I totally sympathize with you. Now you might say that Neel is wonderfully perfect, but listen to me you little nadaan, the man prefers his billi over you. If he loved you, he would realise that you have an allergy and would re-home the cat. But there is none of that happening. In fact, he has demanded a doctor’s certificate, as though you were a recalcitrant schoolgirl who