Where's the faith?

Is Delhi less communal than Ahmedabad? Haider says no. Haider had stayed in Delhi much longer than I have.

Almost seven years. And by his own admission, the city was good to him. An economic migrant from Kolkata like me, Haider had moved up Delhi's corporate ladder fast. It showed. New car, a south Delhi flat, new loves (Haider insisted that had nothing to do with his doing well professionally). Life was a breeze till a fateful Saturday night last year.

It had been a long day. With a headache, Haider decided against a late night and hit the bed early. At around 1 am, he was woken up by a loudspeaker honking away to full glory. Looking out, he saw a congregation at a makeshift pandal. There was a jagran. His girlfriend, who was also woken up by the commotion outside, insisted he go out and tell someone to tell off the loudspeaker. "The noise is beyond permissible limit," she said. Haider hesitated. "See, if you don't protest, they will go on like this forever," she rebuked. So Haider went out and approached the nearest guy in the crowd. "Could you please lower the volume?" He was told it would not be possible. "Call the cops," she said. "But?" "But nothing! We have a right to protest."