IndiaParentMagazine

People's Interest ignored in Andhra Divide!

I am from Andhra Pradesh. Born in West Godavari district and brought up almost entirely in Hyderabad, bifurcation of Andhra Pradesh into SeemaAndhra and Telengana doesn't make sense to me. All my life, conversing entirely in Telengana Telugu during day time with my friends, shopowners, autowallahs, and coming back home to speak Andhra Telugu with my mom and dad, I always thought both versions were an extension of me and didn't even realize the difference between their nuances. It was my way of life. I am a Hyderabadi after all. In fact, today my best friends not only here in the US but also in India are from Telengana.

Recently when I went to India, I could not explain the unbearable pain I had in my chest to see a broken and destroyed Tankbund. Tankbund is to Hyderabad what the Golden gate is to San Francisco –– a landmark. A bridge that unites Hyderabad and Secunderabad over Hussain Sagar. I used to hangout with my friends eating ber and bhel puri as a teenager, play hide and seek with my brother, roll down the slopes of the lawn as a child, and enjoy the sailing club with my family. The most unforgettable memory was my conversation with my dad just one day prior to my wedding. At 10 in the night he brought me to the Tankbund (we live in Secunderabad) facing the Hussain Sagar, and said to me solemnly, "Meenamma, dont be scared. Just because I am sending you away so far (this is almost 25 years ago and I was still wet behind my ears) in the US doesn't mean you are alone. If anything bad happens to you or if you feel you cannot adjust, I am there for you. Don't be scared to tell me. I will bring you back." Later, of course, after coming to know my husband well, he realized that I am the hazardous one to my husband and not viceversa.

Tankbund sustains such sweet memories for me.

That said, I can't talk for the rural people of Telangana who feel so wronged. Being city-bred, coming from a well-off family, and mingling with all communities at the University of Hyderabad (in my Masters class there were 14 of us, 11 of whom belonged to different states from Kashmir to Kanyakumari), I can't even imagine their problems. I am sure the injustice they suffer is grave, and that needs to be addressed. However, I still believe that, although their end may be justified, their means are far from it. Almost every state, every region in India suffers from poverty. What if each one of them were to divide themselves from the whole? It's like two sisters wanting to kill each other solely because one is prettier than the other. And the saddest part of it all is that almost all hatred is driven and fueled by the politicians and their selfish greed for power.

For every one person who wants to see a torn Andhra, there are thousands of people who wouldn't want this dreadful divide to happen. Almost all know that this is a political game, a game that is not even well thought out. Even to think of a future of a segregated Andhra is frightening. Just as Pakistan and India, the Kashmiri pundits and Kashmir, this separation between people of a common language on the basis of geography is a futile and blood-stained path with no visible peaceful future.

Andhra Pradesh was created in the early 1950's after a lot of struggle. Later, the States Reorganization Commission (SRC) had proposed a formula, formally accepted by the then-government, specifying language as the criterion for future division of states, a rule which is brazenly broken now.

Andhra Pradesh is termed as the 14th largest country in the world, with nearly 140 million people speaking Telugu.

In the words of analyst TSR Subramanian, "when such a large part of India is to be split, and when the separation is to be between people who speak the same language and share the same culture, one would expect a much greater degree of preparation, prior consultation among all interests, and a broad agreement on the major contours of the implementation. It is astonishing that the final decision clearly was the result of a sudden spur of ‘inspiration'—there was as much preparation as in cutting a large birthday cake. Indeed, the conclusion is inescapable that the main consideration related to a crude and cynical assessment of the number of MPs that the ruling party in Delhi could garner from the bifurcation. Ultimately, such a major decision, affecting crores of Indians, is triggered by prospects of minor parliamentary benefit to the ruling party— the concerns, impact, and consequences for such a large state, sharing the same language, clearly were callously not taken into account."

Clearly, the impending 2014 elections are given more importance than a community that thrives on shared history, culture and, above all, language. The center decided the border in a matter of two days and pushed the decision of Hyderabad, the ownership of which is a moot point, for another 10 years, an impending bomb to explode.

My heart aches with so much pain for my state. For my Hyderabad, which has so much cosmopolitan history. For a state that could have beaten any other province with its economic growth. A state which, when I look at it now, is solely characterized by broken statues on tankbund, a horrifying indication of a dreadful and hazy future filled with hatred and bloodbath which I now is to occur. Unless the people of Andhra Pradesh come up with a miracle leader like Gandhiji who can turn the tide of this bifurcation among Telugu people, the future of this beautiful state remains gloomy and violent.

By Meena Yeggina

The statue of Sri Sri, my favorite poet and champion of equality, is burned down at the Tankbund.

Here is a before and after picture