News from home usually brings a sense of comfort, a gentle reminder of where I come from. But the recent headlines from Cuttack during the Durga Puja immersion did the opposite; they sent a wave of sorrow through me. On a day meant for the heartfelt farewell of Maa Durga, the streets of my city, which should have echoed with chants and celebration, were silenced by clashes and a curfew.
As someone born and raised in Cuttack, this is a reality I have never known. The Cuttack I carry in my heart is a city of profound harmony. It's a place where our Odia culture is so beautifully interwoven with respect for all. I've written before about our unique tradition of singing bhajans dedicated to devotees of other faiths—a testament to our inclusive spirit. This isn't just a story; it's our identity.
We saw this identity shine brightly during the pandemic when the world watched Odisha. The sacred Rath Yatra was granted permission to proceed based on a heartfelt plea from a Muslim devotee. News like that makes my chest swell with pride. It’s the story I tell people when I speak of my home.
To hear that this very fabric of unity has been torn is deeply unsettling. My heart sinks.
I wish I could shout to those responsible: For the sake of your political ambitions, do not destroy the proud, beautiful image of Cuttack that we carry around the world. You cannot imagine how deeply it hurts when you gamble with the very sentiments that define us.
Who benefits from this division? Is this how you want to be remembered—as people who broke a community for power, rather than building or uniting it? It is a sad, hollow victory.
May wisdom prevail, and may my Cuttack heal soon.
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