As I sip my morning coffee and flip through the papers, I can't help but notice something that's becoming as predictable as potholes during our monsoons—yet another law being passed to protect us from ourselves.
This week's winner? The Love Jihad law. Next up? The Anti-Conversion Law. And while they come cloaked in the righteous robes of "protection" and "preservation," they seem to shout something else entirely—insecurity.
Let's start with this business of "protecting" our women. From what? Falling in love? Making her own choices? I mean, if I'm secure in my relationship as a husband or as a father, brought her up to be a strong woman, why should I guard her like a hawk? Why would I need a law to chain her movements or thoughts?
Unless, of course, I'm insecure!
Yes, dear reader, insecurity is the elephant in the legislative room—draped not in silk, but in saffron, green, and sometimes even clerical white. It huffs and puffs in our assemblies, whispering into microphones: "If we don't pass these laws, our women will be misled, our religion diluted, our culture wiped out!"
Balderdash!
Years ago, something similar festered in the plantations of the American South. The sight of a black man speaking with a white woman sent the white master into a frenzy. Was it morality that flared up? No, it was insecurity. The fear that the 'other' was somehow more physically appealing, more confident, more…human. So, what did the insecure master do? He chained, whipped, and made laws.
Sound familiar?
Now let's come to the Anti-Conversion law. Ah yes. The new fear of the decade: "They're converting us in droves! We must stop this menace!"
Really? Is your religion so weak that it trembles at the sound of a different prayer? So flimsy that a single baptism sends it crashing like a badly built temple dome?
I remember once being invited to a church where statistics were shown about the growing influence worldwide of another religion, and Christians converting to that faith. The elders asked what could be done. I said, "Don't ban any conversion. Just build yourselves up. If your spiritual home is warm, people will stay. If it's hollow, they'll seek shelter elsewhere."
The truth is, nobody leaves a place of love, belonging, or meaning. You don't need legal barricades to keep believers in. You just need a belief that's alive. That breathes. That welcomes.
The louder we shout from rooftops about love jihad and conversions, the more the world sees our insecurity. And it doesn't reflect poorly on the other side—it reflects on us.
So instead of writing new laws, how about rewriting our confidence? Let's build relationships that don't need locks, and faiths that don't fear another.
Because when you're secure in yourself, you don't scream. You smile.
That is the only law we need: the "Convert confidence in ourselves" law.