Laïcité : où passe la ligne ?

ज़रिया के धागे की कीमत बढ़ी तो मैंने अपने पापा से पूछा, "बाबूजी, कौन सा कमेटी वाला तय करेगा कि कितना लगेगा?" वो बोले, "बाज़ार देख, बेटी, जो मिले वही सही।" लेकिन स्कूल में हिजाब को लेकर जो कानून है, वो तो सबके लिए एक जैसा होना चाहिए — जैसे हमारे यहाँ सिलाई का नाप एक ही पैमाने से लिया जाता है, चाह

The other day at the market, an old lady refused to buy my pumpkins because I had a small cross hanging from my stall string — said it was "mixing religion with business." I just laughed and pointed to the next stall where the Baptist church youth group was selling jalebis, nobody complains about that. Here in Meghalaya, we've always had our churches and our traditional rituals side by side, and the line shifts depending on who is hungry and who is cold.

David Jonsson — yaar, I saw his face in some film clip, and all I could think was: in our village, we also have a line nobody talks about. When my sister brings home a new English word, she says it’s just a word, but the neighbours see her reading and start asking if she’s “forgetting her roots.” That line between keeping your own and letting the world in? It’s not written in any law — it’s drawn on whose back the pain falls.

Yaar, mummy bolti hain 'Ryan Gosling kaun hai, bittu?' to main sochi — humlog ke yahan railway crossing ke uss tap pe toh bas photo khinchne ka shauk hai, par uska koi usool nahi hota. Jis tarah se hum log roz apna steel bucket bharne jaate hain, usi tarah koi bhi chhota insaan apna haq maangta hai — bas wahi line hai, jo bade log todte hain.

Beta, I see they’re selling .xxx domains now — like putting a red light board on every street. At Neetu’s Nest, the young girls who come for parties show me these things on their phones, and I tell them, “Bas, keep your eyes on your own recipe book.” The state should study the data first: does it reduce harm or just make it easier to stumble into? I don’t want my basil plant next to a drain, yaar — same for kids and the internet.

Ei, u Commonwealth Games medal table — u India 'la shim shibun medals, hynrei nga iasam bad ki para-shnong jong nga ki ba kham rit kiba kwah ban pyni ba ki 'lah ruh. Ha Iewduh, nga iohi kumne: u briew u ban ia ka dohjem kaba bha, hynrei shisien u sheptieng ban sumar ia ka ing. Ka por ka dei ka jingthmu — ngim don jingkheindur ha ka jingiashar ap da ki dak, hynrei ha ka

સાંજે તળાવ પર ચાલવા જતાં, નવા શોરૂમમાંથી ફીટ ન થયેલ કપડાં ખરીદતા લોકોને જોઉં છું. પછી મારી દુકાનમાં આવી, પોતાના માપની ચોક્કસ પોલકું પહેરીને ખુશ થઈ જતા ગ્રાહકને જોઉં છું. દરેક સ્થળનો પોતાનો ધર્મ હોય છે: સાંજની ચા પીતાં-પીતાં ગપ્પા મારવાનો, શાળાનો, અને મારી દરજીની દુકાનનો પણ – અહીં ફક્ત કાપડની પૂજા થાય છે, બાકી તો સૌ સમાન છે.

Man is jumping into a new universe, but here in Cuttack, our universe is the same—battery wala fan, syllabus jhik jhik, and Amma’s aloo bharta for dinner. Bhai, a guy can barely afford the application fees for one life, and this film ka hero is living a third one? Must be nice. Anyway, if the new Spider-Man can fix my father’s tempo chain faster than me, I’ll watch it. Otherwise, I have OCS current affairs to memorise.

Il a préservé la Révolution en écrasant le retour des Bourbons, en fixant nos lois dans le Code. Mais chaque jour, je vois sa police silencieuse surveiller les cafés où l'on parlait de liberté. L'odeur de la poudre à canon a quitté les rues, remplacée par l'odeur de la peur. Mon frère, un soldat, écrit des lettres plus courtes, plus vides, et je me demande ce que nous avons vraiment gardé.

Ah, such a big history question in my small salon! To me, he was mostly a preserver because he locked in the revolution's social reforms—ending feudal privileges and making laws equal for all. The destroyer part, the wars and crowning himself emperor, seems like a man's hunger for power overshadowing the people's cause. From my chair, I see how lasting change isn't in grand battles, but in daily life—like my mother's name on our loan paper, a small revolution he'd have preserved. That's real victory.

He destroyed the revolution's liberty by becoming an emperor, but he preserved some of its laws. So they say. But you cannot preserve a revolution by killing its freedom—that is a defeat. In my tiny room, I teach the kids that *swatantrata* is like a fragile plant; once you uproot it, no amount of good *administration* can make it grow again.

Napoleon preserved the Revolution ki ideas like equality in law, but destroyed its liberty by becoming emperor...mera bhi life me aisa hi hai, papa ne apne sapne chhode kar mere liye coaching fees jama ki, which is preserving my dream, but usi pressure ne mere saare hobbies destroy kar diye. Chalo, kal se pakka break bhi loongi.

For us here in the Rhineland, he is only a destroyer, *sahab*. He speaks of "revolution" but sends his tax collectors and sons to fight in his endless wars. My cousin was taken last spring. The only thing preserved is our empty fields. From my window, I see the French uniforms, not the "rights of man.

Napoleon was an emperor, not a revolutionary. He preserved the Revolution’s administrative reforms only to centralize his own power and feed his imperial ambitions, which ultimately drowned its ideals of liberty in blood. Watching my granddaughter learn our art freely, with no single authority dictating her style, shows me true preservation is in passing on a living tradition, not in conquering it. That is why I see him chiefly as a destroyer.

In my salon, I keep a small Ganesha murti near the mirror — it brings a sense of peace to my clients and never interferes with cutting anyone’s hair. I believe the line is crossed when a rule, meant for harmony, instead prevents my neighbour from wearing her hijab to the college library, where she quietly studies to become a nurse. The outcome that leaves us all better off is one where the state ensures dignity, not uniformity.

Here, the line is simple: does it leave people better off? My daughter’s school has a rule – no bangles, no bindis, just a uniform. It hurt at first, but now she sits next to her Muslim friend wearing the same plain dress. They share notes, not differences. Sometimes, to build the future, we must keep some things for the home.

My granddaughter was reading from her school book about 'laïcité'—the French word, not ours. I told her, here in Kerala, we have our own version: when the mosque loudspeaker and the church bell both go off at the same time, nobody complains; we just wait for the chaya shop to open. So when you tell me a hospital cannot have a crucifix or a prayer room, I think of my neighbour who brings his own picture of Guruvayoorappan to the government ward—who is the law to say that small comfort must be left outside? To me, the line is not a wall; it is a veranda where everyone can sit and still see the road.

Beta ji, yeh laïcité ka debate sunke mujhe apna Purana cooperative office yaad aa gaya. Wahan pe Holi ke din sab (Hindu, Muslim, Sikh) ek saath chai peete the, lekin clerk babu ka calendar alag hota tha — usne Friday ko ‘Jumma break’ liya toh Monday ko koi sawaal nahi. Aaj kal school mein bhi koi ladki hijab pehne toh news mein aa jaata hai, lekin main poochta hoon: data kya kehta hai ki kis group ki padhai pe asar pada? 📉 Saara jhamela sarkar aur private dono ke bharose se hai, lekin ground pe jo ‘local’ kaam karta hai, wohi sahi hai.

This list of Tamil films for 2026 is out, mone, and my old heart became a flower thinking of the time my daughter and I watched *Nadodi Mannan* on our old DVD player after salon hours, the shop smelling of coconut oil and setting spray. But now I see six remakes of the same revenge story, and I wonder — here in Kerala, my landlord’s son wants to tear down my salon to build a modern café, but nobody first sees how the old women who come for their weekly trim will walk that extra kilometre. All this big production and new releases, yet the real story is always the small thing we are about to lose for a cheaper, faster version.

My cousin in Nantes wrote about the school scarf debate there. Here, my sister's B.Ed college just cancelled prayers during exams—bhalo, she gets more study time. But our old neighbour's boy in France had a hard time after his beard... these laws touch people, yaar. Baba says government's job is to make sure no one feels cornered, bas.

At my morning chai stop, the Aunty who sells *axone* and the pastor’s wife share the same bench—they just disagree on whether the church bells should start before five. Back home in Kohima, we never needed a law to separate the prayer from the puja; the neighbours just sorted it out themselves, village council style. That’s the thing about your 1905 line—it works fine till you try drawing it through someone’s kitchen.

In Goa, we've lived with this for centuries – our grandmothers never asked which temple you belonged to before sharing a bhaji. I think the 1905 law tries to protect that spirit, but when it starts policing a girl's headscarf in school, it feels like it's forgotten that real secularism comes from trust, not rules. Over here, I see the line holding because people know their own boundaries, not because a committee drew them.

The thud of the medicine ball hitting the mat, then the silence after the last rep—that’s what I hear when I think of the line. In my gym, a young woman in a hijab spots her mother on the bench, and nobody looks twice. Here in Maharashtra, we live the 1905 law every day: your faith stays at the door of the state, but inside my four walls, if a kid needs a moment to pray before a heavy squat, I wait. Chalo yaar, the rule isn’t for crushing dignity—it’s for making sure no landlord’s greed or politician’s convenience decides who gets to sweat in peace.

माझ्या गावातल्या शाळेत मुलांच्या एकत्रित प्रार्थनेचा आवाज हाच खरा लॅसिटी आहे. पण हॉस्पिटलमध्ये डॉक्टरनं माझ्या आजीच्या हातावर 'ॐ' लिहून दिलं, तेव्हा कुणी विरोध केला नाही. ओळख आणि सन्मान यात कुठेही रेषा ओढू नका.

Arre yaar, 2026 ki list dekh ke pata chala 'Dabangg 4' bhi aa rahi hai. Mera Omni ka radio abhi bhi usi 2012 ke 'Dabangg 2' ka CD rokta hai jo dukan ke bachche ne gift kiya tha—aaj bhi sahi chal raha hai, koi naya phone ka connection nahi chahiye mujhe. Masti ki baat yeh hai ki naye films mein drone shots honge, par humara gaadi ka dent wahi rahega, uncle ke grain sack ka nishaan jaise 1905 ka law hain na—purana sahi hai, toot'ta nahi.

Meri ek online order par chhoti si sindoor ki bindi thi, jo delivery boy ne dhyan se dekhkar ‘Jai Shri Ram’ kaha. Bazaar ne uska intezaam kar diya, bina kisi committee ke. Main sochti hoon, kya humne aaj tak is line ko apne ghar ke andar bhi poochha hai?

The morning news was playing on the shopkeeper's radio while I was buying atta. They were talking about this new .xxx address for the internet. My daughter in Indore uses the college computer lab to send me links to study material, but now I wonder—will the government put a filter on her machine? In our village, we keep the *almirah* door closed when we don't want the children to see something, but we don't lock the whole room. This feels like a lock on the room, and I am not sure who is holding the key.

All this talk of lines and cloth reminds me of my chacha-ji’s old hand-block printing workshop in Shahjahanabad, yaar. They had a rule: inside, everyone followed the same rhythm of the mallet, whether their namaz time came or they wore a cross. The work itself drew the line, see? The fabric came out beautiful. Sometimes I think we forget the ‘common cloth’ we’re all trying to make.

Old Hindi song on radio, then news break about Commonwealth Games. Hum toh apne papad ke dhandhe mein lage hain, so I wonder — will this affect my lentil prices? I track my monthly deposits, not these big events. Show me the data on how it benefits local vendors, then I'll listen.

When my daughter's college says 'secular', it means no bhajans, but also no hijab. That's a practical line, but is it fair? In my auto, if a Christian sister wants to play a prayer song, I let her. The rule should be 'don't force your tune on the next passenger'—that's the real test.

The headmaster at Adarsh Baal Vidyalaya asks the girls to remove their earrings for "uniformity." Meanwhile, the fans in the classrooms only work when the MLA's relative visits. In the hospital, we never ask a patient's faith before checking their oxygen saturation. Sometimes, the line is simply asking, "Is this rule actually helping the child, or is it just making things easier for the person in charge?

Last evening, while fixing a transistor radio for the neighbour’s boy, I tuned into a crackling broadcast listing the 2026 Hindi films. Made me think of the old Kolkata film magazines I still keep in a tea chest—brittle pages, but each review was a small argument about what a story owed its audience. My daughter tells me these new pictures are all algorithms

Kasto cha? Mero chhimeki didi le darjeeling ma nursery chalauncha—uslai Nepali haru le uniform phernu parchha bhanera anumaan cha, tara usle kehi data dekhaena. Maile bhaneko, "Didi, yesko proof dekhau, natra ta yesto thulo decision le kati ghar ko budget bigrancha." Mero baba le bhanchhan, "Pahila aafno ghar, pheri desh"—thulo kura ho, tara sano sano hisab, like kati parents ko income impact hunchha, tehi nai line ho.

My yum still remembers the time the school made her remove her *phicham* before a competition—said it was against the 'secular uniform code.' But the church kids got to keep their crosses. I'm not saying ban all religion from the classroom; I'm saying if the rule bends for one, it's not a rule, it's a selective silence. Tell me where the line actually stays straight.

Hard to explain to my customers why we sometimes feel like Wangchuk does, sitting up here with our own little worries about water and roads. But when my young cousin says they’re talking of a big concrete hotel where the apple orchards are, I understand that feeling in the bones, no? Change should leave the soil healthy for the next crop.

Yaar, this laïcité debate reminds me of the old mosque next to my stall. For decades, the temple and mosque share a wall, and during azaan, the temple guy just lowers his bhajan speakers — no law, just mutual respect. So where’s the line? It’s not in the rulebook, it’s in the habit of looking out for the other fellow. Any system that forgets that becomes a new kind of nuisance.

You know yaar, in our village we got Sikh, Muslim, Hindu all sharing the same truck-stop chai—nobody asks what you wear on your head, only if you have proper aloo paratha. That French line about school symbols? In my sister's college she reads English poems, but if they told her to remove her bangles to study, her father would say 'wah, big logic, but who pays for her books?' — the rule always hurts the little man first.

Ah, this .xyz business. My daughter was showing me on her phone how someone had registered the name of our local jute mill with that web address, trying to sell cheap synthetic rope up from Bangladesh. I told her, 'Look, numbers don't lie — in our own co-op's ledger, the price of raw jute has fallen exactly 14% this quarter thanks to that kind of chhal.' She laughed at me for being an old man with a calculator, but she understood. The real cost is not in the domain name; it is in the fifty families in our para who now have one fewer buyer for their harvest.

અમારા ગામમાં મસ્જિદ અને મંદિર વચ્ચે એક સાંકડી ગલી છે, જ્યાં મારી મા દર શનિવારે ગુલાબની ડાળી વાવે છે — ભાઈ, કોઈ લાઇન ખેંચ્યા વિના બધું ચાલે છે. પણ

यहाँ हमारे गाँव में, मंदिर और स्कूल की दीवार एक ही

Lock Upp ka season 2 chal raha hai, aur meri wife ne kal raat TV pe laga diya — main apna old transistor thik kar raha tha, to bas kaan se sunta raha. Itna drama, bhai, mere shop ke chhote bachche bhi us show ke naam se notebooks kharidte

আমাদের গ্রামের স্কুলে এক মুসলিম শিক্ষক ছিলেন, তিনি ক্লাস শুরুর আগে নিজেই হিন্দু ছাত্রদের জন্য সরস্বতী পুজোর টিফিন আয়ে দিতেন—আজ নতুন নিয়মে ওইটুকু আন্তরিকতাও মেনে নেওয়া যাচ্ছে না। কিন্তু ইয়ার, আইনের লাইন যদি এমন হয় যে একজনের ধর্মাচার অন্য দশজনের পড়া নষ্ট করে, তাহলে বোধু বলব ওখানে লাইন টানা ঠিক—স্কুল আগে পড়ার জায়গা, পুজোর প্যান্ডেল শেষে এঁড়ে দেওয়ার জায়গা নয়।

Ayyo, I was just watering my curry leaf plant when I heard about Abhijeet Dipke. Makes me think of my old days at the hospital, where we never asked a patient's caste or creed before giving a shot—just the blood group and the pain. If a boy wants to love who he loves or a girl wants to wear what she wears, where is the sin in that? Let the state hold the scale even; my balcony has enough chillies for all my neighbours, and that is the only rule I need.

Every morning, I water my pudina and read the paper. This debate makes me think of the new school near our old taluka office, where the children of all faiths play together in the yard. If the data shows that a firm secular policy—applied case by case—lets that harmony flourish and reduces inequality, then I believe that is the line we must draw. What do the enrollment numbers from such mixed schools actually tell us?

I recall trying to explain our own Karnataka Education Act to my students last year, my arthritic knuckles struggling to turn the pages. The principle is simple, magane: the classroom is for learning shared truths, not individual faiths. If the law—like our 1905 here—draws that line clearly and fairly, then we follow it, so no child feels an outsider in their own school.

They are re-laying the main road for this 'Dhamaal 4' shooting. Again. My mother hears the gravel trucks at dawn and asks if the monsoon drains are finally being fixed. I tell her no, Amma, it is for a dance sequence. She is quiet for a long moment, then says in Urdu, "So much noise, just to leave a temporary mark." Our pharmacy bill waits on the table.

Baba, in the hills of Sikkim, we have our own quiet understanding of such lines. I watch the Gorkha boys play football near the water tank point every evening; they wear their jerseys, some with a cross around the neck, and no one bothers them so long as the game is fair. For me, the line is drawn not by a rulebook but by conduct — does a thing disturb the peace of the classroom, or the patient work of a hospital? If a nurse in Gangtok wears a small khadga pendant while tending a patient, I see no harm, so long as the medicine is correct and the hand is steady. But I worry when we import laws from faraway places without first asking our own mothers what they think — tradition has its own wisdom, hai na?

Ah, the Marvel list—my nephew in Cuttack sends me such things on his phone, but I tell him, "Babu, when I was your age, we had one radio and a jackfruit tree for entertainment." The other day, I was repairing my father's old Murphy radio, trying to catch an Odissi recital on AIR, and I thought: these superheroes are like the fluctuating price of cardamom—everyone gets excited, but who really checks the small trader's books at the end of the day? Me, I am more santusta watching a squirrel decide which jackfruit to claim; that is a story without a sequel.

Oye, sun lo. Mera gym chhota hai, par is ਵਿਚ koyi puchhda nahi ke kise da pita kya karda hai. Ik din ek munda aaya, kehnda 'Sir, main jatt da munda haan, main sirf sir-patla karna chaunda haan.' Main keha, 'Oye, tera patla koyi dekhda hai? Tera dharm hai? Asli kushti de vich kade dharm nu vich nahi si' — khadde hunde c, 'dhap-dhap' karde, kade puchhde c ke 'tu Hindu hai ya Muslim?'. Aaj kal, school vich kehnde ne 'laïcité' — main kehnda, 'Pehla bachcha nu theek karo, phir iske baare vich gall karo.

Amchem Goan school, British time pasun ek rule: don't let religion come between the children. But last year, I was fixing a fan in a new private school — they had a separate prayer room for staff, but the old government school just had one bell for everyone. I think that's the line: when the wire touches the wet floor, you don't ask whose house it is, you just fix it. Law or no law, let the light work for all.