There are times in one’s life when the truth smacks you in the face. These are rare occasions of blessed epiphany. The randomness of the past begins to fall into perfect linear order. As you finally sit to connect the dots, the splattered shades of ink on the pages of our times come together to reveal a despicable reality. It is the revelation of a truth that was so vile that it remained concealed within the shroud of daily mundaneness. Dastardly, indeed!

It seldom occurs by chance or to anyone. Rather, only the brave can endure such moments. It is for this that they have scoured the earth for evidence, built and redefined analytical structures and emboldened their hearts to face the fury of the illusioned. Providence as such exacts due years and effort. Yet it is all worth it, for when conspiracy turns into popular theory, it is they, and only they, who shall cherish the joy of vindication.

I wish not to boast – though in all humility I acknowledge that on occasion I have been known to be a braggart – but it is in this august company that I finally find myself, as I present to you the following case. I guarantee you that upon learning of it, the ground beneath your feet shall tremble. For this is the tale of an agenda so unimaginable, so inconceivable, that it has played out for generations before our very eyes. Yet instead of identifying the cracks, deciphering the codes and unraveling the plot, we cheered it along the way.

Let me take you back to the beginning. The year was 1988. It was a tumultuous time for the world. The Soviet Union was crumbling. The US was giddy and rejoicing. Radical Islam was growing in strength in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Indian politics was changing with the passage of the 1986 Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Divorce) Act and the increasing political fracturing of Hindu society into caste identities. What was to follow in the years thereafter has been well-documented – religious fanaticism, Islamic terrorism and the evolution of Jihad. However, those were the public faces of this war. An overt strategy, if you would. Amidst all this, there was also a covert strategy – an eerie design that was being put together in Mumbai.

On April 23, 1988 the movie Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak released to a positive reception from audiences. Indians who had until then been whipped into action by ‘real’ heroes who had battled the system, stood up for the poor and unions, fought injustices and basically were angry, young men, suddenly were taken in by the charm of love. And a love that didn’t survive the harsh world by suffering through tribulations until everyone else came around, but one that preached violating the sanctity of a family – by eloping.

A Muslim man masked as a Hindu to keep the public unsuspecting. Check. A Hindu woman as the lead heroine. Check. Over-emphasis on the man’s innocent and boyish charm. Check. Associating him with something that women find irresistible, such as chocolate. Check. He promises to take her to a better world. Check. And the wooing is complete. Check.

And with that done, the stage was being set for a grand experiment. It was a new front that was being opened in what is essentially civilisational warfare. Love Jihad was truly set to begin.

Soon after that came the next salvo in 1989, with the release of Maine Pyar Kiya. Much of the tactics employed were similar here. There was even a mention of Swami Vivekananda in one scene. Underhanded, indeed! That was followed by unleashing the crown jewel in 1992, with the release of Deewana. Don’t tell me you didn’t figure out the undertones here? The husband ‘dies’ and then comes a saviour who holds the ‘widow’ in an essentially illegal marriage, as the first husband is still alive. I ask, could civil laws for Hindus have permitted that? No. It was a clever attempt at testing public appetite for polygamy. Alas, actually sanctifying this would have been tugging at the thread too hard. Hence, the poor fellow i.e. the first husband had to die, and it was portrayed that a better world awaited the lass. Despicable!

Such was the plot that slowly led to the systematic overthrow of the Hindu male lover and the Hindu family. Romance became the battleground and feminists and women’s empowerment activists soon were co-opted into the narrative. Essentially, they were naïve allies as they advocated ‘modern’ and ‘western’ ideals to undermine the ‘family honour’ by propagating that the woman could actually choose her partner. In no time, one after the other, the real-life Khans masked themselves as Raj and Prem to monopolise the fantasies of Hindu women. Also, not to mention that two of these three men are in reality also married to Hindu women. See a pattern, now?

But the audacity of this scheme can only really be understood in its entirety when one considers that even someone who upon his debut had been criticised for not being ‘masculine’ enough, grew into becoming a romantic lead in India. Yes, I am talking of Saif Ali Khan – that devious-and serial-wooer of Hindu women.

It was in this backdrop that a generation grew. Young boys and girls of the Nineties had very little clue of whom to look up to. Where were our Hindu role models of romance? They were either in prison being Khalnayaks, too invested in carrying out splits on bikes, or being Khiladis, bashing up bad guys and cleaning the system. So while they were involved in greater-than-themselves causes, our women were being wooed away. It was a treacherous time. Until one day there was a ray of hope.

There arose a man from the ashes with the promise to change everything. Such was the ground that had been conceded that even the title of his debut had to be a pleading question. Just that, in itself, shows the loss of confidence in young Hindu boys’ ‘woo-ability’. Yet, with Kaho Na Pyaar Hai there was a ray of hope. But that was soon extinguished. To begin with, he was constantly called a Greek god – a hideous attempt at undermining his Hindu good looks. Why not describe him as Shiva, who is the only male deity anywhere in time and space that ever danced that awesome. And then came the death knell as he was whisked and wooed, and married a Muslim woman. The only hope nipped in the bud. Love Jihad at its finest.

It is since then that Hindu boys and men have had to make do with the likes of Tusshar, Viveik, Riteish and the like. The only other that came through for Hindus was Ranbir, but he’s been far too discredited as being promiscuous and untrustworthy by the left-liberal media. Meanwhile, the Jihad has continued through the younger crop, one even calls himself a Kapoor! The church also got into the act with their very own John.

Perhaps now you can understand why there is such dread around our great rashtra. There has been a systematic top-down approach at undermining and destroying the ‘woo-ability’ quotient of Hindu men. With all you know now, don’t you feel really silly at sniggering and brushing aside such calls to action? http://zeenews.india.com/news/nation/poster-at-bjp-hq-warns-against-love-jihad_786428.html

I thought you would.

Thus, what we need now is a reversal of this trend. And awareness is the first step. We need a complete revival of the Hindu lover – top down and bottom up. The only way out is an urgent strategy, a comprehensive ‘stimulus’ package or something of the sort for the Hindu male. For now, though, I place the foundation by proposing that we call it The Kamdev Plan.

Image Source: [http://www.flickr.com/photos/quinnanya/3813682042/]