Wanted to share my real life story with you all. The day when I was reborn! Was waiting for the right time. So here it is.
It was the summers of 2007. I cracked IIT entrance exam that day. Result was out. Family members’ joy knew no bound. But I will remember the day for another reason.
We had a cricket match scheduled in a cricket ground in Ghaziabad (Muslim population above 30%) that morning. The ground (situated in Muslim area) was such that at least 30 different matches would go on simultaneously. Those who have played cricket in big grounds on Sunday would know what I am talking.
We occupied central pitch. Ours was proper cricket ball (leather) while other matches were being playing with tennis ball. We were the team of Pandits, Baniyas, Sunaars and a few Jats (a typical Ghaziabad caste composition). The opponent team had only ‘Bh*ngis’ and ‘Ch*ma*s’.
We batted first. I was hitting the ball like anything. Their main fast bowler was already hit for three consecutive sixes in first three balls. The fourth ball was a bit yorkish. I hit it too with strong bottomhand. But because the ball was full, shot didn’t get elevation. It went for a flat six. Beyond the boundary, a boy with skullcap was fielding for his team.
Ball hit his head head on. It was hit so hard that ball almost came back to the bowler after hitting him. Boy’s head started bleeding and he fell on the ground instantly. I was worried about him. I started almost running towards him removing my helmet. But then my teammates stopped me saying – mar jaayega bhai tu, rehne de (don’t go there, you will be dead). I slowed down but kept walking.
And then I saw in no time, 25-30 boys and men (mostly with skullcaps) equipped with cricket bats, stumps, chains, belts and a knife were approaching me. My teammates screamed- pad utaar, bhaag (remove your pads and run). I didn’t. But I stopped. I was watching 25 men with blood in their eyes and hearing abuses in screams. And I knew very well what it means to upset a mob of 25 Muslim men well equipped in Ghaziabad in a Muslim area. I had realized this was my last day.
I closed my eyes, said goodbye to Amma, Pitaji. Opened my eyes, removed my gloves, held the bat tight so as to put up a fight no matter for few minutes. I started walking again. Towards them. To prove that I am not a coward.
Then I realized some men are following me. I was surprised! It wasn’t my teammates but the opponent Bh*ngis and Ch*m*rs whom I slaughtered mercilessly that day in batting. They just kept following. They were hardly 5-6.
When I was just 10 meters away from the mob, those 5-6 men surrounded me and formed a chain around me. The main bowler whom I hit for 4th six 2 minutes ago went straight to the leader of Jihadi mob and held his collar like a boss. I can never forget that scene. It was like a lion about to hunt a deer in front of deers’ gang. His hand was tight on his collars and he shouted- Kaun hai yahan gunda, jisme dum ho haath laga ke dikha de bhai ko. (who is the brave here? dare to touch my brother). And suddenly those 25 gladiators turned pussycats. No one shouted back.
He again roared- Ek baap ka hai yahan koi jo Bhai ko haath laga de? Saamne aa jaa. And there was a pin drop silence. And then he removed hand from his collar, held Jihadi leader’s face now and showed him the way – chala ja jahan se aaya tha – go back where you came from.
Martial race Gladiators dispersed in no time. And the bowler came to me. I had tears in my eyes. I said- Bhai, main tujhe nahi jaanta, tu mere chakkar me kyon pada? Mera to koi saathi bhi nahi aaya mere saath? Tu kyon aaya?
He replied- “Bhai hai tu hamara, kisi ***** ki kya aukaat hai jo hamare bhai ko maar jaaye. Bhai haath nahi lagne denge tujhe“. He put hands on my shoulders. We hugged each other and that day I realized how despite so much of bloodshed and Jihad we are still surviving.
We were coming back to our pitch. I started removing my pads. He said what happened? Nahi yaar, dobara lag gayi to… (what if I injure someone again?), I said. He laughed and said- Bhai tu dobara maar vahin maar, tab bhi nahi haath lagne denge tujhe, tu maar (you hit again, there itself, we will see who touches you!).
I won match that day and he won me forever. We became friends. He called me Sher. I called him Sher. And one day I lost my brave brother forever. He went somewhere and never came back.
O Brother, be blessed wherever you are. Be brave wherever you are. I am still waiting for you and always will. Meanwhile, I will always work for unity of those whom you considered your people. I declare openly that all Bh*ngis and Ch*m*rs are Kshatriyas of Hinduism who have protected Dharma for centuries. Anyone who tries to create divide between our people and help terrorists will be silenced in all respects. Anyone who has problems with my stand can leave me right now. I can’t upset a lion because of some cowards.
Love you Bhai. Years later, I found big Brother Sanjeev Newar. I was so fortunate. Now we run anti caste and anti terror organisation- Agniveer with Sanjeev Bhai’s inspiration and blessings. I hope you are seeing your ‘Sher’ from somewhere.
PS : And a pig belonging to a political party said a few months back that Jihadis will rule India if ‘Dalits’ and Muslims unite. Listen piglet, one ‘Dalit’ Sher is enough to silence your 30 martial race gladiators in your heartland. Now we run into thousands. Save your a$$ instead.
Facts from the accounts, chronicles, and biographies of Muslim rulers on how sword, slavery, destruction, and subjugation were used by Islamic invaders to hand over the legacy of Islam over to the native Indians – Hindus.More info →