The Knot That Guards Us

The Knot That Guards Us

Most of my friends know me as someone who grew up in Kammagondanahalli, where I spent my school days and much of my youth. Recently, I moved to the outskirts, but for over twenty years, that middle-class family home was my world—a space that felt both familiar and luxurious in its own way.

In rural areas, owning a home is more than just having a roof over your head. It’s a treasure passed down through generations, a foundation that nurtures families and memories alike. Every corner tells a story, and the house itself becomes a guardian of traditions.

Urban living, on the other hand, often lacks that sentiment. Many choose rented flats, moving from one place to another as convenience dictates. The deep emotional bond with a house—the sense of permanence and security—is less common.

Yet, whether rural or urban, the first instinct when you occupy a home is to ensure it is safe—that it remains untouched by intruders. This safety is often invisible, like a silent guardian.

No one can disturb the peace of your home unless they first undo the protective knots tied by its occupants. These knots are not literal strings or charms placed outside your door—they are symbolic bonds, crafted with care and vigilance by those who cherish the home.

There will always be someone who tries to unravel these knots, seeking to make your space vulnerable. So, if you enjoy the safety and comfort of your home, take a moment to thank the people who have tied these knots for you—the ones who guard your sanctuary, often silently and selflessly.

Because behind every safe home, there is love, care, and a knot that keeps the world at bay.

We don't own the Tug

You’ve probably heard of the game of tug-of-war. In this game, participants split into two teams and pull against each other to test their strength. The team that overpowers the other emerges victorious.

The teams may change, but the rope—the tug—remains central to the game. Each new group of players uses the same rope to test their strength and aim for victory.

But what happens if the tug itself becomes the prize? When the rope becomes the object to win rather than the tool to play the game, the entire dynamic changes. It no longer serves the new participants but instead undermines the very purpose of the game.

This is similar to what happens when democracy is reduced to a struggle over the vote itself rather than a means to determine leadership. When the “tug”—the vote—stops serving the game and instead becomes something to own or control, the essence of democracy is compromised.

A tug serves its purpose only when it remains part of the game, not the property of the players. Likewise, a vote fulfills its role only when it belongs to the democratic process, not to those who seek to possess it.

Basic structure and its basicness

Everything in life has a basic structure. A building, for example, stands strong because of its pillars and roof. In the same way, the human body is supported by its skeletal system. The exterior may vary for countless reasons, but it is the inner structure that provides stability through both good and bad days.

Our lives are no different. We experience joyful days and difficult ones. On the good days, we celebrate; on the bad days, we grieve. But what truly matters is how much we allow these moments to influence our core structure. For instance, on good days we might skip cooking at home and treat ourselves to a restaurant or plan an outing. Yet cooking remains one of the fundamental routines of our lives—something that exists regardless of whether the day is good or bad.

Just like cooking, many other simple routines form the basic structure of life. When this foundation is disturbed, we often lose our sense of direction. Some routines may seem insignificant—like reading a book once a week. Skipping it might not bring immediate consequences, and no one will punish us for it. But these small actions can have subtle effects over time.

Whether the day is joyful or challenging, it is our responsibility to stay rooted in our basic structure. These everyday habits define us far more deeply than any temporary high or low ever could.

**How the Destruction of the Babri Masjid Became a Gap in Evolution**

 **How the Destruction of the Babri Masjid Became a Gap in Evolution**

History rarely moves in straight lines. Societies evolve through negotiation, dialogue, conflict, and compromise. Yet sometimes an event occurs that feels like a tear in the social fabric — a moment that interrupts the gradual evolution of values, institutions, and collective trust. For many observers, the **destruction of the Babri Masjid on 6 December 1992** represents such a rupture: not a biological or scientific “gap in evolution,” but a **break in India’s socio-political evolution** toward pluralism and constitutional democracy.

## **A Moment That Shook the Foundations**

Independent India’s project was shaped around a few core principles:

* Secular governance

* Equality of all communities

* Conflict resolution through institutions, not mass mobilization

* The idea of a shared national identity that allowed space for difference

The demolition of the Babri Masjid challenged each of these pillars at once. What had been a legal dispute and a contested historical claim exploded into a nationally televised moment of institutional breakdown. For the first time in independent India, a place of worship was demolished in full public view during a political rally, despite explicit court orders.

This event felt like a **jolt to the system** — a moment where the social contract seemed to crack.

## **When Evolution Regresses**

The term “gap in evolution” here is metaphorical. It reflects the sense that the country’s journey toward secular coexistence suffered a sudden interruption, almost like a skipped step in a carefully built sequence.

### **1. The Gap in Institutional Evolution**

Before 1992, institutions — courts, parliament, state governments — were increasingly becoming the arbiters of public conflict. The demolition signaled:

* Failure of state machinery

* Triumph of mobilized crowds over legal processes

* A crisis of credibility for institutions meant to protect the rule of law

Evolution thrives on stability. The event introduced **a crack in institutional trust**, and the effects echoed for decades.

### **2. The Gap in Communal Harmony**

India’s religious communities have coexisted for centuries, not without conflict, but with a cultural rhythm of accommodation. The demolition intensified Hindu–Muslim polarization, giving way to:

* Nationwide riots

* Heightened mistrust

* Identity-based political mobilization

Instead of moving toward deeper integration, society shifted into a period of **reactive identity politics**, creating a detour in its social evolution.

### **3. The Gap in Democratic Culture**

Democracies evolve by strengthening dialogue over confrontation. The Babri Masjid demolition normalized:

* Street-level assertion over constitutional channels

* Mass symbolism over legal reasoning

* Majoritarian sentiment as a political tool

This did not end Indian democracy, but it altered its trajectory — a form of **evolutionary mutation** in political culture.

## **A Turning Point More Than a Pause**

Not everyone interprets the event as a “gap.” Some see it as:

* A political awakening

* An assertion of cultural identity

* A correction of perceived historical wrongs

Whether one agrees with these viewpoints or not, the demolition undeniably marked a **turning point**. Evolution is not only progressive; it can adapt, realign, and even regress before stabilizing in a new form.

## **The Legacy: Still Unresolved**

More than three decades later, the Babri Masjid remains a reference point in debates about:

* Secularism

* Religious freedom

* Historical memory

* Majoritarianism

* The boundaries between faith and state

In many ways, India continues to navigate the aftershocks of that day.

## **Conclusion: The Gap as a Reminder**

Calling the demolition a “gap in evolution” is a way of acknowledging that:

* Nations evolve not just through growth, but through crises

* Evolution can be fractured

* Sometimes a single event reveals unresolved tensions beneath the surface

The destruction of the Babri Masjid did not stop India’s evolution, but it **redirected** it. It became a fault line that shaped the politics, identities, and institutions of the decades that followed — a reminder that evolution is fragile, and that the path forward often depends on how societies confront the ruptures of their past.

And The Best Generation Award Goes to the 80's

Generations are often grouped into different categories based on the time period in which they were born. For example, the 80s kids are known as Millennials, followed by the 2K kids, Gen X, Gen Z, and so on. A quick search on the internet will give you plenty of information about how each generation is defined and which time span shaped them the most.

Every generation has its own strengths, but as an 80s kid myself, I feel the need to defend that era. Growing up in the 80s meant living at the perfect crossroads between a more traditional world and a rapidly modernizing one. On one hand, we were raised with strong values, discipline, and “sanskar.” On the other, we had to adapt to the modern outlook that was emerging all around us. We learned to respect our elders while also connecting comfortably with those younger than us.

If I were to put it in electronic terms, we were like regulators. If our elders represented the analog world and the younger ones the digital world, we stood right in the middle—experiencing both worlds firsthand. We know what it was like to live in an analog era and we also understand today’s digital age. Take television, for instance: we grew up with bulky CRT TVs and later embraced sleek LCD screens. We’ve used and appreciated both.

So what makes us special? It’s the fact that we are the transition. We witnessed the world shift from analog to digital. The younger digital generation may not fully understand the analog world, and the older analog generation may not relate to today’s digital reality—but we bridge that gap. That bridge, that blend of experiences, is what makes our generation uniquely remarkable.