Some might feel the Rajasthan government’s recent move to pass a law banning religious conversions was long overdue, while others might call it an infringement of the fundamental right to religious freedom. But, undoubtedly, life after conversion in a backward hamlet can be traumatic.I remember travelling to the south Rajasthan districts of Ajmer and Pali in 1992 for a cover story I was doing for a weekly magazine on a ten-year, meticulously executed programme of conversions. Traditionally, the colourful Mehrat and Rawat communities, living in the districts of Ajmer, Pali, Udaipur and Bhilwara, were a tolerant, homogenous community. Though predominantly Muslim — following Muslim rituals like burial, the nikaah ceremony, the eating of halal meat and the abjuring of idol worship — they celebrated festivals like Eid, Holi, Diwali and Shab-e-Baraat with equal fervour. But their peaceful lives were disrupted after the launch of an RSS-VHP programme to bring them back to the Hindu fold, with religion acquiring a new meaning.After months of persuasion, the building of a temple, and a slew of development projects like hospitals, balwadis (nurseries, where children aged six upwards were taught the fundamentals of Hindutva,) and schools to initiate teenagers into Hinduism, the villagers succumbed. A three-hour-long film on legendary Rajput King Prithviraj Chauhan screened in a mobile van, reminded villagers of their Hindu lineage.The campaign worked. Over a decade, close to 50,000 people were baptised as Hindus in a ritualistic ceremony called “homecoming”. RSS worker Uma Shankar Sharma gloated over his achievement, putting it rather crudely, “People wondered how we could bathe a donkey and transform it into a horse!”Enticed by the propaganda, the new converts became misfits, unable to follow old social customs. As new convert Badami Devi, daughter of a devout Muslim family confessed,”Now my husband says it is a crime to celebrate Eid. We have stopped visiting each other even at festival time.” Hakim Singh, 28, earlier plain ‘Hakim’, said simply, “We Mehrats do not have any religion.” But unlike the earlier camaraderie and social equality, he had stopped even drinking water in a Muslim home after his conversion.For the three converted Muslim families in Pali’s remote Niyabari village, life became a daily war of attrition. Initially, fellow villagers barred them from crossing their fields or drinking water from their wells. This was followed by a violent clash on Holi in which many converts suffered injuries, some fatal. Frightened out of their wits, the converts had to flee their homes for one and a half years. Later a posse of VHP workers camped in the village, dug a new well and intimidated the Muslims with a show of strength. The consequence? Boasted a VHP worker, “They have now realised the VHP can retaliate powerfully.” Peace, finally, but at a price.There has been no cessation of conversions since then, with the whole process escalating into a contest between different communities. In a region famed for communal amity and home to the inter-faith shrine of Ajmersharif, this could be regarded as sacrilege.
