ABSTRACT
My father has always had a beard for as long as I remember. So as a child, the daadhi (beard) part of the ‘Daadhiwaaley Baba' (bearded old-man)—who was supposed to kidnap errant young children—never scared me. I also never associated beards with Muslims because the bearded man I knew was a Hindu. In fact, my father has always been a living example of a person unknowingly defying stereotypes. Often at home, after his morning bath or evening freshening up, he would exclaim in Punjabi loudly, ‘Mainu te maaf kardey Rabbaa!' (God, have mercy on me!) or sometimes he would say loudly ‘Hey Allah, mere maalik, reham karo!' (Oh Lord, I seek your mercy!) This, coupled with his daily Hindu puja and loud invocations to our many gods in Telugu and Sanskrit hymns and chants, left my brother and me thoroughly unaware that Rabbaa, Allah and Venkateshwara belonged to three separate religions.
