"Did you hear? They've brought out a movie about Aurangzeb's brutality!" cried my neighbour, his eyes widening with excitement, as though the Mughal emperor was about to storm into our apartment complex.
"Oh wonderful," I muttered, "just what we need, another reason for people to glare suspiciously at each other across the street."
Now, don't get me wrong. History is important. Understanding our past is vital. But when governments start digging up centuries-old grievances like a child unearthing buried treasure, we should ask ourselves why. Are they trying to teach us a lesson in peace, or are they just tossing a few communal sparks into dry tinder to get votes?
"But Bob," my neighbour protested, "people need to know the truth!"
"Yes," I replied, "but what exactly is 'the truth?' Is it the part where Aurangzeb was ruthless and cruel, or the part where he was also a brilliant administrator? Or better still, the truth that all rulers, no matter their faith or background, had their fair share of good and bad?"
"But what about justice?" he pressed on.
"Justice?" I laughed. "Are you going to haul Aurangzeb to court now? Summon his ghost and ask him to apologise in prime-time news?"
The truth, dear readers, is this: governments that dwell on historical wrongs to stir up division are not leading us forward; they're dragging us backwards. They're like drivers who keep staring at the rearview mirror, convinced they can reach their destination without crashing. And what happens? Bang! Another communal riot, another bitter argument over dinner tables, and another generation taught to blame their neighbours for something that happened 400 years ago.
Instead, what we need is leadership like Nelson Mandela's. Imagine if Mandela had decided to spend his presidency recounting every act of cruelty inflicted on black South Africans under apartheid. The nation would have been smouldering in anger.
Instead, Mandela chose to forgive. He built bridges, not bonfires.
Forgiveness is strength. It takes courage to rise above anger, to hold out a hand of friendship rather than a fist of vengeance."
History should teach us one lesson above all: Never repeat the mistakes of the past. We can't erase what happened, but we can choose not to let it poison our present or ruin our future.
"So, what should we do once such films are out?" my neighbour asked, his frown softening.
"Simple," I smiled. "Watch them if you like, learn from them if you must, but don't let them make you hate your present neighbour. Because the past is gone. It's what you do today that shapes tomorrow."
As I returned home, I imagined Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj himself looking down in all his majesty from a cloud above, his warrior face calm yet wise. "Yes," he seemed to say, "I want my people to move on, and I want them to prosper by doing so. That is how true strength is built...!"