Letter From A Hindu Nationalist
Dear self proclaimed leftist. There are things you disapprove of and things you despise and beyond all these things, on top of the disapproval ladder is the Hindu nationalist or what the JNU alumni call, the Hindutvawadi.
Like an INS warship cruising the vast Indian Ocean that has a radar to detect intruders, you have a radar to detect the Hindu nationalist from far away. The morbid 'class monitor like' obsession you’ve had with rooting out and humiliating the Hindutva back benchers has led you to invest hours dedicated to learning all about these saffron 'devils'. Such is your fascination with them that you’ve even kept cute nicknames for them. Sanghi, bhakt, cow worshipper.
When out in public, your eyes are aware and your mind is always sharp, on the lookout for the saffron color—possibly the worst color known to mankind. Because that’s what a Hindutvawadi is, according to you. He wears a saffron kurta, sports a red tilak and a gamcha around his neck. With his mouth full of paan, he even has the ability to use his spit as a weapon.
With his repertoire of foul words and the alleged "war cry" of Jai Sri Ram, this mythical Hindutva nationalist prowls the streets, day and night, lane by lane, looking for people to hassle. Much like a food delivery guy searching for a delivery address.
In your imagination, the Hindu nationalist is basically a random guy from UP. Is it any wonder then, that UP is referred to as the ‘Cow Belt’ in your circles? Thanks to your 'intuition' and life experience (unrelated to your African studies degree) you have it all figured out. No Hindutva scum will escape your ever watchful Sauron-like gaze.
Except—you are wrong. To say that you don’t know anything about Hindu nationalists would be an understatement. Because we are all around you. In all shapes and forms. And there is no way you will spot us. You know why? Because like you, we don’t wear our political identity on our sleeves. Neither do we get triggered at the drop of a hat or hide in the confines of our group-think bubbles. We don’t.
Not only are we all around you, but you probably have a lot in common with us too. We frequent the same South Bombay sushi restaurants that you do. We are there at the French New Wave film festivals too. From the U2 concert to the TED talks, we attend the same events as you do.
In your imagination we might be eating gobar and drinking gaumutra, but in reality we take as much relish in eating our traditional food as we do in consuming a Cipollate con Pancetta or a Coq au Vin. In fact, we probably indulge in this a lot more than you do, because most of us actually earn a living.
It will shock you to know that our Spotify playlists have more than bhajans and bhakti songs in them and at the same time, we will be excited to discuss the plot of the new season of La Casa de Papel. Heard of it haven’t you? It’s called Money Heist in English.
And yes, as you must’ve guessed by now, I am a Hindu nationalist—and Proud of it. Because there is nothing wrong in being a fundamentalist when your fundamentals are rooted in the most essential of human values. Like Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam (the world is one family).
And as much as the Marxist rags would have you believe—no, we don’t hate you. We just pity your ignorance. No, we don’t hate Muslims, we just want them to stop waging violence against us. Neither do we have any problems with the spiritual Christians, only with the missionaries who come from abroad to manipulate the unsuspecting Hindus.
We don’t want much. We want the government to leave our temples alone. We want to be able to practice our religion on our own terms and we have no problem with what other Indians belonging to different faiths do. As long as they do not disrespect our culture and customs(as has been the norm).
But you will never hear us out, will you? Because the image of the Hindu nationalist you've constructed in your head is too comforting to let go. It allows you to feel intellectually and morally superior without having to engage with the nuance of our position. Your academic echo chambers have taught you that we are nothing but violent, uncouth zealots and questioning that narrative would require you to question your entire worldview.
While you were mocking Ayurveda as pseudoscience, global pharmaceutical companies were filing patents based on our traditional knowledge. While you were dismissing Sanskrit as a "dead language of oppression," it was being studied at MIT for its computational logic.
The irony is that you'll readily defend every culture on earth except your own. You'll passionately advocate for indigenous rights in the Amazon but consider Hindus asking for justice as "communal." You'll attend workshops on decolonizing academia but sneer at those who question the colonial narratives about Indian history. You'll celebrate diversity everywhere except when it comes to diverse viewpoints within your own country.
Many of us were once like you. We read the same books, attended the same universities and believed the same dogma. But then we started asking questions. We began to see the double standards, the intellectual dishonesty, and the thinly veiled contempt for our civilization that permeates leftist discourse on India. We didn't abandon reason – we applied it more rigorously.
So the next time you're at that poetry slam or that craft beer festival, look around. The Hindu nationalist might be the person discussing Chomsky with you, or debating climate policy, or recommending a Netflix documentary.
We don't fit your caricature because your caricature was never real to begin with. We don't need your approval, but we would appreciate your intellectual honesty. We don't ask you to agree with us – merely that you engage with what we actually believe rather than what you've been told we believe. Is that too much to ask from the self-proclaimed champions of dialogue and understanding?
Your caricatures and dismissals aren't just intellectual exercises—they have consequences. They embolden those who vandalize our temples, who mock our deities and who belittle traditions that sustained our ancestors through centuries of colonization and oppression.
Each time you casually toss around terms like 'bhakt' as an insult, you're not just attacking a political position—you're demeaning the very concept of devotion that millions hold sacred. Does that feel progressive to you? Does ridiculing an inclusive faith make you feel enlightened?
Perhaps one day you'll realize that the real fascists aren't those who want to preserve their cultural heritage, but those who seek to demonize and silence anyone who doesn't conform to their narrow ideological framework. Nevertheless, we'll continue to exist all around you – invisible to your prejudiced gaze but integral to the nation you reluctantly call home.
And yes, some of us do enjoy a good paan occasionally. But we're just as likely to be sipping your favorite single-origin pour-over coffee – probably at the table right next to yours. The difference is that while you're busy looking for enemies, we're simply living our lives – preserving a civilization that survived a millennium of invasion not through hate, but through an unshakable belief in its own inherent worth. Perhaps that's what truly unsettles you.
So the next time you spot someone in a business suit speaking fluent English and holding progressive views on climate change & gender equality, remember—they might just be reciting the Hanuman Chalisa every morning and donating to temple preservation funds every month.
We're not hiding; you're just not seeing. And perhaps that's the most radical act of all—existing authentically in a world that expects us to be either apologetic or caricatures.
