Harshvardhan Rai's Blog

War and the Post-truth World

 

As soon as the ceasefire was announced between Indiaand Pakistan, both sides exhibited eerily similar sentiments—oscillatingbetween celebration and scepticism. Some Indians celebrated the ceasefire. Somerejected it—saying that India had an upper hand in the situation, so why did itagree to ceasefire? But, unanimously, the popular consensus and narrative inmedia and the common public was: India had won this war.

On the other hand, Pakistan had a similar sort of narrative in theirmedia. Their PM came for a media address in the late night—claiming that theyhave destroyed India’s Defence Systems, Air Force bases, fighter jets such asRafale.

India also claimed the same—destroying many Air Force bases, destroyingtheir F-16, JF-10 fighter jets, and annihilating their Air Defence Systems.

But then came the contradiction. The ceasefire, though mutually agreedupon, seemed to be simultaneously upheld and violated. Reports of freshshelling and cross-border firings began to surface. India accused Pakistan ofinfiltrating territories along the Line of Control (LoC), of drone incursionsand missile launches. Pakistan, imperatively, mirrored the sameallegations—claiming Indian aggression, destruction of villages, and targetingof civilian zones by Indian Armed Forces. Ceasefire violations became mutualaccusations. Both claimed to be reacting, both denied initiating.

So, what is the truth? Or does any exist in the first place? What weknow, confirmingly, is that there was a ceasefire violation in the LoC and theInternational Border (IB). Drones and missiles were intercepted in many partsof IB in India. Many people, media houses and officials confirmed the same.But, when you look at the media and social media of Pakistan, you realise thatthey also have the same narratives. Their people are claiming the same—accusingIndia of the violation.

‘Truth’ and ‘Fact’ are two distinct concepts. When nationalism,identity, and jingoism are involved, the place of ‘Facts’ does not stay. EveryIndian believes that they have won. Every Pakistani believes that they havewon. And that is how the common public is fed by media, authorities,institutions and establishments.

So, who broke the silence first? Who retaliated and who provoked? Thefog of war thickened. As always. And in this haze, a haunting question emerged:What is the “truth”? Or rather—does a truth even exist in the first place at atime of a war?

The term “post-truth,” coined in the earlytwenty-first century and first recognised by Oxford Dictionaries in 2016,refers to situations in which objective facts have less influence on shapingpublic opinion than appeals to emotion, sentiments, personal belief, andideological narrative. Post-truth, as a theoretical framework, allows culturalcritics to investigate how the media, politics, institutions, establishments,power structures, and public discourse construct realities through affect,repetition, and spectacle rather than facts. When applied to wartimenarratives, particularly those between India and Pakistan, it allows for asharp assessment of how both countries manage historical memory, patrioticpassion, and public perception, making truth elastic, replaceable, andultimately negotiable.

We are, of course, aware that violations did happen. Drone and missileinterceptions have been reported across India’s border with Pakistan. Multipleindependent confirmations were received from local authorities, eyewitnesses,and media outlets. However, at the same time, when one explores Pakistani media,one notices that an essentially identical narrative emerges from their side aswell. Subsequently, they also have “proof”, “testimonies”, witnesses, andauthoritative declarations. Their common people are convinced that Indiainitiated the conflict, to which Pakistan reacted—justifiably.

This is not simply a matter of perception. It is a symptom of a deeperdisorder—a post-truth reality where facts are outbid by emotions, where truthis no longer sought, but constructed. It is not the accuracy of the informationthat matters, but its ability to resonate with national identity, culturalmemory, and popular sentiment. In war—especially between nations ashistorically charged as India and Pakistan—truth becomes a curated experience,not a shared discovery.

Well, additionally, the question that inevitably arises in the psyches,from this narrative is this: Is it even possible, in today’s world, toactually find and authenticate a “winner” in a full-fledged war?

Victory in previous eras was measurable in terms of seized territory,overthrown governments, or treaties. However, uncertainty fuels modernconflict, particularly between governments that are politically or nuclearlylinked, such as India and Pakistan. Perception turns into the lastbattleground, tactical victories are fleeting, and strategic objectives arefrequently obscured.

Today, victory is designed rather than gained. It is portrayed ontelevision screens, repeated in hashtags, and legitimised in press conferences.Success metrics, such as death figures, infrastructure damage, and geopoliticalleverage, are open to manipulation or selective visibility. The media no longerinforms; it performs a spectacle. Citizens are no longer passive observers offacts, but rather active players in carefully controlled beliefs.

Every Indian believes they have won. Every Pakistani believes the same.And this belief is not accidental—it is sculpted, disseminated, and performedby media channels, political leaders, official institutions, and amplifiedacross social media. In such a climate, truth is not the convergence of factsbut the convergence of collective agreement.

What, then, does truth look like in a time of war? When nationalism,identity, and jingoism flood the discourse, where does “fact” stand? When everyimage, every clip, every news report becomes a tool for emotional mobilisation,can we even speak of objectivity without appearing naïve?

The post-truth world redefines reality rather than just obscuring it. Itsubstitutes loyalty for evidence, sentiment for history, and theatrics forjournalism. And in this transformation, war is transformed into a narrative tobe told rather than a tragedy to be lamented.

So, we must ask—if everyone wins, has anyone really won in the firstplace? If truth becomes merely what survives within the echo chambers ofideological comfort, what happens to the people caught in the crossfire ofthese comforting illusions?

We always strive to explore these very questions. Might also becritiquing not the military actions alone, but the cultural, psychological, andmedia-driven architecture that sustains these illusions. Because, in a worldwhere war is televised and truth is manufactured, it is not bombs that do themost damage—it is belief. The war had only just ended, but television screens,mobile phones, and internet platforms were ablaze with victory speeches,flashing tickers, and colourful graphics—each side exhibiting images of missilelaunches, triumphant warriors, and “exclusive” battlefield footage. Even beforethe ashes had cooled, narratives had been implemented.

Indian media houses showcased confident generals, retired defenceanalysts, and news anchors with loud voices and louder opinions. Maps weredrawn, arrows traced paths of invasions and counterattacks, while video loopsof missile trails and airstrikes played on repeat. “Pakistan has been taught alesson!” echoed on one channel. “India gave a befitting reply!” screamedanother one. There were animated simulations of how India’s Rafalesoutmanoeuvred enemy jets. Panels debated tactics, celebrated destruction, andcondemned any scepticism as anti-national. Fairly.

Meanwhile, across the border, Pakistani media also mirrored thechoreography with eerie precision. Their anchors saluted their armed forces.They displayed grainy night-vision clips of explosions, claiming Indian radarinstallations were wiped out. Defence experts—some real, othersself-declared—explained how Indian bases had been “neutralised,” how Pakistan’sretaliation was supposedly “measured, mature, and devastating.” Footage ofcaptured drones, destroyed vehicles, and aerial dogfights—regardless of originor authenticity—were passed off as proof.

Following the ceasefire, Pakistan’s retaliation activities againstIndian military sites and civilian areas deserve close scrutiny. WhilePakistan, like India, presented its military activities as a moral response toperceived aggression, a closer look reveals a more problematic pattern ofjustification based on national myths rather than actual realities.

Pakistan’s narrative of a measured, “mature” response convenientlyoverlooks the wider ramifications of targeting Indian military bases as well ascivilian infrastructure. The airstrikes on Indian soil were heralded asnecessary acts of retaliation, presented as surgical and precise. Yet, suchacts cannot be dissociated from the fact that they were, at their core, acts ofaggression, not just retaliation, ones that also risked civilian casualties andfurther destabilization of the fragile peace that existed in the region. Theline between military and civilian zones became increasingly blurred in mediaportrayals, with a focus on military triumphs overshadowing the possibility oflarger-scale collateral damage. Consequently, truth becomes a collective agreementrather than a factual convergence.

What is particularly concerning is the justification of theseretaliations within Pakistan’s own mythmaking machinery. Historical events,often misrepresented or manipulated, have played a significant role in fuellingnational pride and self-righteousness. The mythology surrounding previouswars—such as the 1965, 1971, and 1999 conflicts—has been perpetuated to justifycontemporary aggression. An average Pakistani is often unaware of Pakistan’slosses in 1965, 1971, or 1999. These events are not just questioned, butdeliberately overturned in public discourse. Past successes, real or perceived,have been recast as moral high ground from which Pakistan can claim legitimacyfor its retaliatory tactics, regardless of the actual repercussions.

In the particular case of military strikes on Indian land, themyth-based narrative emphasises revenge and restitution for perceived wrongs,rather than a reasoned or proportionate response. With its appearance ofcertainty, Pakistan’s media unearths certain elements of previous battles,interpreting them in ways that support the cause for current military action.To the average Pakistani, these myths of historical success and vengeance givea soothing image of constant resistance—one that demonstrates their country’sperseverance. However, no matter how confident this narrative is, it missesreality’s intricacies.

India is no stranger to its own mythologies. From the 1971 narrative ofliberators in East Pakistan to more recent airstrikes portrayed as divineretribution, media has often celebrated militaristic responses while eclipsingthe complex causes behind them. The rhetoric of “befitting reply” and “nationalhonour” perpetuates a cycle where dissent is sidelined, and emotionalgratification becomes the goal. These stories, too, form a parallel mythologythat elevates selective truths while silencing nuance.

This mythological framework, when examined closely, is dangerous becauseit perpetuates a cycle of violence in which the reality of human cost isconveniently hidden behind the banners of nationalist pride and righteousretaliation. It is no longer the facts of the present moment that matter, butthe emotional resonance of a carefully constructed past. The tragic irony isthat, in this emotional calculus, real human suffering—both military andcivilian—becomes a mere footnote.

What is even more troubling is the self-fulfilling nature of this myth.As narratives are constructed and re-constructed in both India and Pakistan,they reinforce each other in a vicious cycle. Pakistan’s actions, justified bymyth and emotion, are reflected back in India’s responses, creating a feedbackloop that, rather than fostering genuine dialogue and reconciliation, deepensthe sense of enmity and mistrust.

The question arises—not just of what was reported—but why it wasreported the way it was. The answer lies in the very purpose media seems tohave assumed in wartime: not to inform, but to affirm. To not challengenarratives, but consolidate them. To not provoke thought, but to sedate doubt.

The media is used as a weapon in post-truth warfare, but not just forspreading false information but also for manipulating emotions. The intendedvictim? That is definitely the consciousness of the common citizen.

When news turns into spectacle, and facts are stripped of theircomplexity in favour of digestible patriotism, the audience does not merelyconsume—they conform. The act of questioning is disincentivised. Nuance islabelled as weakness. Doubt becomes betrayal. The public does not demandaccuracy—they demand catharsis. They want to feel vindicated. They want to feelvictorious. And the media—well aware of this—feeds them what they crave.

And in doing so, it does not just blur the line between truth and lie—iterases it altogether.

A blurry image of a demolished aircraft hangar becomes “exclusiveproof.” Another warfare zone’s random footage is clipped and re-captioned.Press briefings are translated selectively. And the intended fabrications havealready gone viral before the reality had a chance to catch its breath.Furthermore, it isn’t always done with pure malice. Ratings can be a factor. Itcan be pressure at times. Occasionally, it’s the convergence of institutionalambitions with political preferences. However, the outcome is the same.

And, what is worse—people stop caring. Surprisingly, if they know thereality already, they choose to ignore it because it usually does not alignwith their belief and conformity. Why? Because it no longer matters whether theimage shown is real, or whether the claim made is verifiable. What matters isthat it feels true. And that is the very cornerstone of post-truth culture:truth is not what is; truth is what resonates.

The tragedy is not just that both nations fed their people illusions ofvictory, but that the people accepted them without hesitation, andoften—without even curiosity. As if the truth no longer needed to be uncovered,just delivered in palatable headlines.

No one asked: What did we lose? Who died? What did this escalate? Was itnecessary? Could it have been avoided?

Of course, ‘rage’ does not accommodate ‘sanity’ and ‘conscience’ in asort of society we live in.

While screens flashed animations of fighter jets and soundbites ofvalour, a small child in Poonch slept through the thunder of shellfire,dreaming of schoolbooks buried in rubble.

Instead, the public danced in digital victory processions, posted flagemojis, and trended hashtags declaring national pride. Meanwhile, familiesgrieved in silence, lives disrupted by conflict fell into media shadows, andgeopolitical tensions simmered—waiting for another spark. It is here we see themedia not as a window to the world, but as a mirror to collective delusion. Andeach time we look into it, we don’t see war—we see ourselves, victorious,righteous, and unchallenged.

But mirrors lie—especially when they’re made of screens.

And so we return to where it began: a ceasefire marred by contradiction,confusion, and celebration. Two nations, one silence, and yet two victoriesclaimed. This moment, now archived in social media timelines, stands as theclearest metaphor for the post-truth era—where perception trumps precision, andmemory is weaponised.

The tension between the actual events of war and the narratives ofvictory we construct is a delicate one. As we’ve seen, both India and Pakistan,in the wake of military confrontations, portrayed themselves not only assurvivors but as victors. The paradox is glaring: when truth becomes malleable,is there really a victor at all?

The post-truth environment we inhabit today, fuelled by the media,social platforms, and political structures, constructs versions of reality thatserve the emotional and ideological needs of the populace. In times of war,this manipulation of truth is magnified—war is no longer merely fought onbattlefields but in the hearts and minds of the people. And in this war forcontrol over belief and perception, the boundaries of truth erode.

The overarching question, therefore, remains: What happens when truth isno longer a shared understanding but a battleground? Can we ever reclaim thenotion of objective reality in the face of rampant emotional manipulation?

In this context, war becomes less about the physical confrontationbetween nations and more about the psychological and cultural warfare waged onthe home front. Through carefully curated narratives, victories are declared,enemies are demonized, and the wounds of war are buried under the gloss ofpatriotic fervour.

But the cost of this manipulation is significant. When media narrativesare weaponised, they not only obscure the real costs of war—lives lost,families torn apart, international relationships strained—but also strip awaythe possibility for reflection, reconciliation, and the pursuit of lastingpeace. The truth, in such an environment, is not an inconvenient reality to bereckoned with—it is an inconvenience to be discarded.

In this post-truth world, where truth is subjective and selectivelycurated, the war between India and Pakistan becomes not just a geopoliticalstruggle but a cultural one—a fight over whose narrative will define thereality of the conflict. Both nations may claim victory, but the greatertragedy lies in how easily the people are manipulated, made to believe insomething that does not exist in its full, unvarnished form.

The price of such mythmaking is clear: in a post-truth world, it is notjust the soldiers on the ground who suffer. The people—the ordinary citizenscaught in the crossfire of these mythologies—bear the true cost, unaware thatthe truth they hold dear is nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion.Thus, when victory is claimed on both sides, we must ask ourselves: what havewe truly won? And more crucially, what have we lost?

Perhaps, then, the first resistance to post-truth warfare lies not ininstitutions, but in our individual refusal to be comforted by certainty. But,this is something, in today’s times, one can only hope for… 

विडम्बना



हिंदू धर्म जैसे विशाल एवं विस्तृत औदार्य धर्म की आधुनिक मलिन समाज में स्थिति देखिए, कि सभी भगवानों को एक विशेष व्यवहार और विचार से जोड़ कर रख दिया गया है। शिव जी को नशे संबंधी कुरीतियों व आदतों से जोड़ा जा रहा है। राम जी को केवल युद्व के आह्वान से संबंधित किया जा रहा है। हालाँकि घर के कुछ बड़े बुज़ुर्ग अभी भी उनके नाम को जपने के लिए इस्तेमाल करते हैं। लेकिन युवाओं के लिए वे अब एक सेंसेशनल स्टार हैं, जिनके लिए उनके फ़ैन कुछ भी करने को तैयार हैं। उनके असल विचार क्या हैं—यह मायने नहीं रखता। उनके नाम को प्रभुत्व दिखाने के लिए इस्तेमाल किया जाता है। कृष्ण जी अभी तक थोड़े शांत विचारों जैसे प्रेम एवं विरह से संबंधित किए जा रहे हैं। वे अभी तक तो किसी भी क्रूरता या ग़ुस्से से दूर हैं। हनुमान जी शारीरिक रूप से बलिष्ठ होने के द्योतक हैं। बाक़ी भगवानों को उतना ग्लैमराइज़ नहीं किया जा सका है। उनका कोई स्टारडम नहीं है। कोई भी भीड़ “जय श्री गणेश” या “जय श्री ब्रह्मा” के नारों से उद्वेलित नहीं होती। गणेश जी और ब्रह्मा जी जैसे शांत और अंडररेटेड भगवानों को बहुत कम मौक़ों पर याद किया जाता है। ब्रह्मा जी अभी तक लोगों के भीतर अपना क्रेज़ बना पाने में असफल हैं। क्या एक आम हिन्दू शायद अभी भी किसी मुसीबत के दौर में सिर्फ़ ब्रह्मा जी को याद करके संतुष्ट हो सकता है? क्या परीक्षा के परिणाम से पहले कोई युवा ब्रह्मा जी की आराधना करके अपनी मानसिक व्यग्रता को शांत कर सकता है? शायद नहीं। इस काम के लिए कुछ भगवान निश्चित कर दिए गए हैं। शायद हर काम के लिए भगवान निश्चित कर दिए गए हैं। और हर भगवान के भक्तों के प्रकार भी निश्चित कर दिए गए हैं। ब्रह्मा जी घर के वे बुज़ुर्ग हैं जिन्होंने मेहनत से पूरा घर-आँगन बसाया था और आज उसी घर के किसी कोने में बैठे हुए अपने पोते-बहुओं और बेटों से 2 घड़ी प्रेम की बातों की अपेक्षा लिए बैठे रहते हैं। विष्णु जी के मौलिक स्वरूप को यादृच्छिक रूप से उनके बाक़ी प्रकारों के रूप में याद कर लिया जाता है।
यह दर्शाता है कि पिछले कई दशकों में शनै:-शनै: भगवानों का एक निश्चित प्रारूप और चित्रण बनाया गया है। ठीक वैसे ही, जैसे फ़िल्मों में होता है या “Popular Culture” में होता है। अत्याधुनिक सोशल मीडिया के युग की भाषा में इसे PR या Public Relations कहते हैं। जो बड़े-बड़े अभिनेता, नेता, खिलाड़ी व कलाकार समाज में अपनी छवि बनाने और सुधारने के लिए किया करते हैं जिसका कि आम जनता को आभास भी नहीं होता; कि कब किसी नेता या अभिनेता के रास्ते में पड़े कूड़े को उठाने की एक रील देखकर, जिसमें कि एक भावुक संगीत जोड़ा गया है, आपके मन में उनके प्रति अनायास ही संवेदनशीलता आ जाती है। ठीक उसी प्रकार; किस भगवान, देवी या देवता की कैसी छवि बनानी है, यह अब हज़ारों सालों के अविरल प्रयास से रचे गए प्राचीन ग्रन्थ, वेद, पुराण, उपनिषद या धार्मिक टीका–टिप्पणी तय नहीं करेंगे। अब यह heroic भावनाओं से ओत प्रोत किशोरों द्वारा social media पर slowed and reverbed संगीत से गूँजित, आँखों में तेज़ चमकीली दीप्ति लिए यूट्यूब के शॉर्ट्स और इंस्टाग्राम की रील्स तय करेंगी। जहाँ भगवानों को एक फ़िल्मी महान नायक की तरह युद्ध लड़ते हुए या उसे रोकने की क्षमता रखते हुए दिखाया जाएगा। जहाँ उनके असल प्रारूप और विचार, दिखाए जा रहे एक एक क्षण से कोसों दूर होंगे।
चूँकि इंसान सभ्यता के आरम्भ से जन्मजात हिंसक प्रवृत्ति का है, इसलिए वह केवल उन भगवानों को अपने लिए उपयुक्त मानता है जिन्होंने किंवदंतियों में कभी-न-कभी किसी पौराणिक महायुद्ध में भाग लिया हो। श्रीराम ने रामायण में रावण का यथायोग्य वध किया था। श्रीकृष्ण ने भले ही प्रत्यक्ष रूप से महाभारत के युद्ध में भाग नहीं लिया हो, लेकिन उन्होंने कई योद्धाओं को दिलवाया था। कईयों को जिताया था। कईयों को हराया था। वे कुशल कूटनीतिज्ञ के रूप में युद्ध में निहित थे। शिव जी ने देवासुर संग्राम में विष पीकर अपनी ठोस उपस्थिति दर्ज कराई थी। क्या होता अगर श्री राम रावण का हृदय परिवर्तन कर के उसे माफ़ कर देते; या श्री कृष्ण दुर्योधन, दुशासन जैसे सभी कौरवों का हृदय परिवर्तन कर के पांडवों को उनका अधिकार दिलवा देते और सभी पाँच पांडव बाक़ी के कौरवों के साथ सुखी रहते? और रामायण एवं महाभारत के युद्ध होते ही नहीं? क्या होता अगर शिव जी की जगह ब्रह्मा जी विष का प्याला पी जाते?
इंसान केवल कथानकों के नायकों को पूजता है। चाहे वह शास्त्रों में हो, साहित्य में हो, मीडिया द्वारा प्रायोजित लेखों में हो, या राजनीति में। ‘कौन कितने युद्ध जीत कर आया’ — केवल इस विचार की पूजा होती है। गणेश जी शायद किसी महायुद्ध के प्रतिभागी ना रहे हों। और ना ही ब्रह्मा जी ने किसी युद्ध में प्रत्यक्ष रूप से भाग लिया हो। अगर लिया भी होगा, तो उसकी भनक अभी तक मीडिया और नेताओं को नहीं लगी होगी। अन्यथा ब्रह्मा जी भी आज उतने ही पूजनीय होते। या यूँ कहें, ‘क्रेज़’ में होते। यही कारण है आज तक ब्रह्मा जी, गणेश जी को एक बड़ी भीड़ को उकसाने के लिए इस्तेमाल नहीं किया जा सका है। क्योंकि उनके विपरीत कोई खलनायक नहीं है, जिसे किसी के प्रतीक के रूप में भीड़ के ख़िलाफ़ दर्शाया जा सके। श्री राम, श्री कृष्ण, और शिव जी खलनायकों के धनी हैं। जिस व्यक्ति या विचार के ख़िलाफ़ अगर भीड़ को भड़काना हो, तो उसे रावण, कंस या असुर बताया जा सकता है। अब भगवान और नायकों के बीच की रेखा धूमिल होती जा रही है। या शायद हो चुकी है।
गोया कि लोगों की दिलचस्पी धर्म के प्रति बढ़ती जा रही है। यह क्रिया की जगह एक तरह की प्रतिक्रिया है, जो दूसरे धर्म के लोगों को देख कर की जा रही है। फिर भी, लोगों की दिलचस्पी शास्त्रों में ना हो कर शस्त्र उठाने में है। उन्हें अपने ही धर्म के मूल विचारों से कोई मतलब नहीं। और यह शायद इसलिए, कि वे जानते हैं इन विचारों को। वे जानते हैं कि धर्म के जो विचार शास्त्रों, वेदों और पुराणों में कहे गए हैं, वे उनके आज के विचारों से मेल नहीं खाते। शायद इसलिए सब धरती में सिर धँसाए शुतुरमुर्ग़ हो गए हैं। वे उस विचार को देखना ही नहीं चाहते। वे केवल उसी विचार से उत्त्तेजित होते हैं, जो मीडिया, नेतागण या यूट्यूब शॉर्ट्स अथवा इंस्टाग्राम रील्स दिखाती हैं।
और यह सब इसी तथ्य से जगजाहिर है, कि इस धर्म के सबसे बड़े आयोजन के संभाषण का विषय इस धर्म में व्याप्त कुरीतियाँ दूर करना या धार्मिक दर्शन और तत्वज्ञान नहीं हो कर यह है कि एक गुब्बारे बेचने वाली लड़की को कैसे देश के आतुर पुरुष घेर कर उसके रूप का रसपान कर रहे हैं और कैसे वह अब एक ओवरनाइट सेंसेशन बन चुकी है। कैसे एक उच्च शिक्षित युवा नशे करने की व्याकुलता को सर्वमान्य करने के लिए संन्यासी बन गया है। यहाँ दिलचस्पी साधुओं और साध्वियों की सुंदरता में है, ज्ञान में नहीं। हज़ारों साधु संत, जो मेहनत, तपस्या और अध्ययन से वैराग्य के मार्ग पर हैं, ‘सुंदरता देखने वाले की आँखों में होती है’ जैसे विचारों को हवा में विलीन होते देख रहे हैं। कौन धार्मिक दर्शन और शास्त्रार्थ को लेकर उत्साहित है? कौन धार्मिक मूल्यों के प्रचार-प्रसार के लिए तत्पर है? शायद कोई नहीं।
इन्हीं आलोचनाओं के प्रत्युत्तर में हमेशा यही एक बात कही जाती है — ‘तुम दूसरे धर्म के बारे में तो नहीं कहोगे। वहाँ भी तो इतनी सारी बुराइयाँ हैं।’ वे यह भूल जाते हैं कि जब अपने घर में कोई बुख़ार से पीड़ित हो तो सामने वाले के घर में कोई टीबी से पीड़ित है, इस बात से संतुष्ट नहीं हुआ जाता। जब समस्या अपने घर में हो तो स्वाभाविक रूप से चर्चा अपने घर में ही होगी। प्रश्नों के उत्तर में एक और प्रश्न मूर्खता की निशानी है। जो हम सब समय-दर-समय दिखाते रहते हैं।
यह तथ्य विकट शोचनीय है कि हिंदुओं ने कभी हिंदू “धर्म” को गम्भीरता से नहीं लिया, बल्कि “धर्मांधता” को पूरी तरह से सिर पर चढ़ा के रखा है। एक धर्म, जो अपने विचारों से महानता के शिखर पर जा सकता था, अब केवल दिखावे और तमाशे का उपकरण मात्र बन के रह गया है। अब यह रातोंरात प्रसिद्ध होने और नामवर होने का एक औजार है जिसे लोग जैसे चाहें वैसे इस्तेमाल कर रहे हैं।



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