Suneel’s Christmas Message – TfL RACE CNG Newsletter December 2025

It is time to write a Christmas message. I write this message as someone that comes from a Hindu, Guru Ravidasia and Sikh background but, as everyone knows, Christmas has become cosmopolitan in the United Kingdom, even regarded by many as a secular festival. All faiths and backgrounds sit together on Christmas day to make it an occasion for family and friends. Christmas is celebrated in different ways by all of us but we share the celebration together.

In my view, one of the themes of Christmas is a belief in dignity against a society that may take dignity away from people. Jesus is born to a poor family, in a stable, and first welcomed by shepherds—people on the margins of society. In addition, Jesus was a Jew from Galilee and Jews in 1st-century Judea were an ethno-religious minority living under Roman imperial rule, with limited political power. Within the Roman world, Jewish people were often stereotyped, taxed heavily, and at times persecuted for their customs and beliefs. So for me, the nativity story, which sees Jesus as God, returns dignity among those often overlooked.

If there was an earnest belief in dignity, I believe the work of improving society would have been done and the champions of diversity could rest. This could have happened long ago. One of the great examples of the belief in dignity is the Edict of Ashoka from the 3rd Century BCE. Reeling from the devastation of wars that he had caused, wracked by guilt, Ashoka turned to compassion and respect for all people to transform himself and his world.

In his rock and pillar edicts, Ashoka affirmed the inherent dignity of every individual, passing over divisions of ethnicity, religion, or social status. Ashoka supported religious tolerance among Buddhists, Hindus, Jains, Greeks, Persians, and other groups within the empire. He promoted equal justice and humane treatment under the law, as well as respectful dialogue between cultures rather than dominance or suppression. Ashoka wrote that honouring others’ beliefs “strengthens one’s own faith,” reflecting an early understanding that dignity and equality thrive in diverse societies.

The nativity story and Ashoka matter to us today. The belief in human dignity is not a modern invention but has deep historical roots. This belief has long been essential to peaceful coexistence in multicultural societies. I hope that we can all believe in dignity so that we can all live dignified lives. Not just at Christmas, but all the year round. My thoughts go out to the Jewish community as I write because of the recent Bondi Beach mass shooting, but also to all in this world affected by those for whom there is evidently not a belief in dignity, of the dignity of life, the dignity of choice, the dignity of difference and the dignity of diversity.

Dr. Suneel Mehmi (Lead Editor)

insults (microfiction)

07.12.2025

S: Shylock can’t take their insults. For the violence of their words, he wants the violence of the law. Because the insults are words which are a law and they are violence. The language of this society is violence. It is the law of this society. There is no concealment of it. He wants to answer them in their own tongue. With the law of revenge. The violence of justice.

A: That was then.

S: I don’t write about then. I write about now. But the worst of it? They steal Shylock’s own daughter away from him. She who he loves the most in the world. They take his love away from him. They turn his love against him. That is the ending of the play. It is the unjust that win, not the just. It is the destroyers of love that win, not the lovers. It is what the poet knows. Shylock suffers the same fate as Romeo. They separate him from his love.

A: That happened in the past to you. Will it happen now?

S: In a relationship, there are not just two people. There are others. And others intrude. That is the downfall of every relationship. Here, those that intrude are the haters. They are filled with hatred and cannot bear that anyone can be filled with love. They want to kill love and the lover. That is their stupidity. You cannot kill love. There has been love in every era in human history.

A: You are saying that love is always destroyed. And then you are saying that love cannot be destroyed. Which is it?

S: That is the question, isn’t it? Which is it? Does hate win every time? Or does love win once in a blue moon? Is it true as the literary critics say, that Romeo and Juliet are joined in death? And what about Shylock? Is his love only going to be heartbreak?

A: You don’t have the answers?

S: The answers are in my heart. Because in my heart is love. Real love. There is a Hindi song. They say do not break my heart because the heart is the house of god. She broke my heart anyway. But you cannot break the house of a god. This heart, this body, this mind. It is formed after the god of love, my namesake. I am god.

the machine (microfiction)

14.11.2025

S: How do you build the perfect warrior?

A: Haven’t you seen those action films? You inject them with a serum. Or you give them a bionic body.

S: It is not the body. It is the mind.

A: How so?

S: The perfect warrior is one that has anger. He is a berserker on the battlefield. Anger gives you strength and valor.

A: Surely anger makes you make mistakes?

S: You can get away with many mistakes in a fight. The other thing you need is loyalty. Loyalty to the cause.

A: Undying and unthinking loyalty?

S: Not unthinking. And undying except in special cases. There are many such qualities. The most important one is love.

A: I knew you would say that.

S: It is a complete misunderstanding of war and love to say that ‘I am a lover and not a fighter.’ In fact, the lover can only be a fighter.

A: We have heard this before.

S: The perfect warrior can only fight for love. The perfect warrior can die for love.

A: What if there is no love in this warrior’s life?

S: You need motivation in life. You rush home to talk to someone. You rush to where you are going to see someone. It is love that gives energy. Freud said love and work. That is what makes a life.

A: And the body?

S: India made a machine. The machine came from the farmers and the serfs. Full of natural muscle. With an insane stamina. A body that can do a hundred hours of work a week for over twenty years. A natural athlete. Strength personified. But the body? It is nothing without that iron will, the indomitable spirit and the audacious, powerful brain…

A: Who do you talk of?

S: The one that scares the cowards. The one that bows his head to The Mother. The one that is the boast of Punjab…

A: The Tiger…

fighting fate (microfiction)

12.11.2025

S: Today I was in haste to get somewhere with someone. But when I arrived at the line, everything was down. There were people swearing down their phones, people with anger and annoyance on their faces, people rushing off in a huff…

A: Sounds hellish.

S: It was. All because one or two trespassers had come on the line. So they shut down all the services. One train was cancelled. One train had a failure to launch… I had to leave it. I had to cancel my plans. All there was was frustration.

A: And what were you thinking about that?

S: In life, there is always some kind of obstruction. It might not happen to you. It probably doesn’t happen to other people. But it does happen to me. Over and over again. I can never win.

A: Reason?

S: You could call it bad luck. You could call it fate.

A: And what happens when the lightning of bad luck strikes at your head?

S: It shows you that you can never plan anything in life. Because something will come in the way to disrupt all your plans. It shows you that every time you try to arrange happiness in life, all that comes is sadness and frustration. Desires are never met. Wishes remain unfulfilled. The bad luck…

A: Give me an example.

S: Just before Covid, I got this wonderful opportunity. I got trained up for it. Then? Covid and it got shut down.

A: Another one? Maybe that was just an exception.

S: At my Cambridge interview, I passed it and I got pooled. They didn’t contact me again. I passed a prestigious job interview after graduation where over one thousand people had applied for that post. They pooled me, they reserved me in first place. They didn’t contact me again. They pooled me for the PGCE when I passed the interview for a funded place. They didn’t contact me again. Even during my PhD, they pooled me for working in a prestigious art gallery. I passed all these interviews.

A: Bad luck or racism?

S: Both. It is the same with everything. I won’t go into my personal life. This is what I am up against. The curse. How they keep us down. Just one other person will destroy your life. You wonder why I am negative. What they did to me was absolutely appalling.

love without fear

06.11.2025

S: Have you ever wondered what love without fear looks like?

A: Do they that love fear?

S: There is a famous Hindi song from one of the all-time classic movies. It is called ‘If you have loved, then what do you have to fear?’

A: And?

S: The question is whether that film is an exception to the rule. Because in the film there is an Oedipal situation between Akbhar the Great and his son Salim for a dancing girl.

A: Why do you mention this film?

S: Because an Indian professor that I used to know used to call me Salim. He recognised that I was Oedipus.

A: Is it only Oedipus that can love without fear?

S: That is the question, isn’t it? Salim’s love was the Revolution. In an India where the young fear the judgement of their parents and their family and society.

A: Why do you think people fear when they love?

S: Biology. In the past, childbirth might mean death. Or stigma in a society of monogamy and religious fanaticism.

A: So that is reason number one.

S: Secondly, when you love someone, you give them a licence to hurt you badly. Irretrievably even in many cases. It is a very risky business. And therefore, there is fear.

A: Why else?

S: The law. So if you ever love anyone outside of the law, there is the fear of stigma and the repercussions.

A: And you? You do not fear?

S: What is there to fear? I cannot die giving birth. The ones I have loved have stamped all over my heart and mind. I am still here, aren’t I? I haven’t died. I am still as strong as ever. Because I am invincible. And the law? I do not believe in it. In fact, the law is my enemy. Above everything….

A: You are a warrior. Yes, I know. You have crowed about it often enough. You come from the warrior culture. Where cowardice and disloyalty are the gravest sins.

S: Besides me, I hope there are those that can love without fear. Because fear breeds insecurity and unhappiness. There is this feeling. They will leave me all alone. All alone. Often, they do. But I do not fear. The Tiger never fears. Even the lonely are living. And loving.

the tears of the flowers

04.11.2025

Unexpected acceptance can be found within unacceptable expectation.

The day was long. In the garden, the flowers wept. The grass lamented. The sky itself, it was filled with melancholies of grey.

A bird glided into the tree and S. watched her keenly. The birds of Da Vinci flew in his mind, the artist feverishly tracking and recording their movements. Wanting to become the bird.

A. had asked him why he saw poison. Why he thought poison. Why his life had become poison.

What else was there? When all the good things were being churned from the ocean, instead, the god Shiva had swallowed the poison. To prevent the destruction of the universe. His throat became blue with the poison’s anger. And S.? His name was blue. The blue skin of a god.

A. had asked him, how can you become a god? S. had said that in the West, to claim godliness is arrogance and the height of madness. It is folly. But in India, one modelled onself on god. They called the good people gods. It was the aim to become god upon the earth. A god was known by good deeds. The deeds of humanity. And S. tried his utmost.

‘So you are Shiva then?’ A. had asked.

S. had said that the hero is formed in adversity. The whole world, including the gods, fate itself, all had to be against the hero. It was only then that the triumph of the hero could be known and recognised. It was only then that the legends of the hero could be told and the songs could be sung.

Life had to be poison. Otherwise, heroism was dead.

A. had smiled. The Buddha’s smile was known. It was the sign of his wisdom. The smile delighted the hearts of his followers.

the shock of the racist (microfiction)

28.10.2025

S: It’s ludicrous, isn’t it?

A: What?

S: The shock of the racist.

A looks at S quizzically.

S: All they do is spout hate. Every single word is a hate crime. But then when you point out that they are racist, suddenly there is shock and surprise.

A: You are talking about someone in particular?

S: Look at that piece of shit Farage…

A: Here we go again.

S: He is lucky…

A: Stop there. Don’t say it.

S: Okay, I won’t. But look at their strategy. Hate crime after hate crime. The persecution and oppression of anyone perceived as other because of their culture or race. And then, if you ever point it out, then there is denial, denial, denial. Outrage even. That is the thing about a racist. If you point it out to them, they think that they are entitled to anger. They love lies and lies only.

A: And what of it? A bastard is a bastard. They cannot be legit.

S: You know what it is? The racist pretends that they love the Other. They have this deceit that they love the Other. They won’t countenance any exposure of the stuntedness of their hearts.

A: That’s going a bit far, isn’t it? How do you reckon they are fabricating a tale of love?

S: Look at imperialism. They pretended they loved us so that they could rule over us. They said they loved us so much that they were going to ‘civilise’ us. When they had no civilisation because unjust rule over another is not civilisation, it is barbarity. Thinking yourself better than another because they are different and excluding them is barbarity, not civilisation. A civilisation of barbarity.

A: You are importing your experience of that one into things. I know you. And your constant sneering is why you are unloved.

S: Love at the cost of conscience is not love.

A: Have you not heard that all is fair in love and war?

S: Stoop to their degraded level for love? Impossible for The Tiger. That is the cant of their culture, their celebration of injustice. Love is justice or it is nothing. And justice itself is love. That is why I stand apart from them. That is why there is one Tiger. And a world of sheep.

fighting the no (microfiction)

26.10.2025

S: The No had horns of fiendish sharpness. The No cut into me.

A: Did she wound you?

S: Fatally. Yet somehow I survived.

A: How did you the fight the No?

S: How do you fight a No? You cannot fight a No. There is no reason for a No that is given. There is no rationality behind a No. When someone rejects you entirely, all of you, how can there be a fight?

A: You are saying that you did not fight? You, the warrior? You laid down your arms? Like a non-man?

S: I am not saying that. I am giving you the benefit of my experience.

A: I knew you would fight the No. How did you fight her?

S: For two years I argued against the No. The No was wrong. I fought for two years for a chance. Every night I fought against that No. There was nothing. All there was was the No. I was snared in the No. All I breathed was the No. In my feverish dreams of horror, all I felt was the No.

A: When you were faced with an insuperable problem, you still fought? Why?

S: Warrior destiny is the war. It is written in the stars. Unalterable. Incontestable. But this No, it was contestable. It was a contest. My Yes against the No. Life against death.

A: But yet, Yes lost. No won. Life lost. Death won.

S: No can never win. Do you know, this world has erected a Great No? It dwarfs the one of difference. But what else do we worship except the men that fought against the Great No? The religion of my father is Guru Ravidasa. From the low castes, he fought against the Great No of the higher castes. He fought for us, the people. He fought for the Revolution, may a thousand kisses rain down upon it! The man of brown skin fights against the Great No of those without a brown hide. It is the fight against the Great No that gives meaning in life. Remember the Song of God in the Gita:

“You have a right to perform your prescribed duties, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions.”

the game of dying (microfiction)

17.10.2025

Life had become a thing with thorns in it for many. A complicated and crushing thing. It was evident that happiness was only for the others. So now, the people did not want to live.

So they would go to the game of dying.

You could die any way that you wanted to. For a moment, you could feel the ease of death. Just for a few pounds. You could escape this thing called life and this trap that was the world.

The game of dying promoted itself as moksha, the Hindu ideal of freedom and departure from the chain of being and constant rebirth.

The downside was that even after dying, you had to go back into the world.

You could choose how you wanted to die. Poisoning. Being stabbed. Burning.

First, I started off by being poisoned. After all, was this world not poison that one had to swallow? It was exceedingly painful. The throat would swell up, there was severe nausea. It was hard to breathe.

My next death was the revolver. I would sit there with it, staring into the barrel of it, completely focused. I would forget about all the many problems and the unfulfilled cravings, of the friends and loves that had betrayed me. Then when I pulled the trigger, the beautiful oblivion…

But now, the death I chose every time was burning. It was the most painful death. Excruciating and unbearable. The most intense death.

They would watch us. The ones that had led us to death, they came in droves to watch us. The ones that had taken all the happiness would watch, eating popcorn, smiling at each other. It was an amusement for them and we were their clowns. They had always watched our suffering and poured petrol upon us while we burned. That was how the world went around.

headphones (microfiction)

29.09.2025

‘So I got home,’ I was telling Alfonso, ‘and just as I was heading towards the door, I took my headphones out which I use to drown out the sordid sounds of this sordid world. As soon as I did so, I heard the harassing, haranguing voice of an absolute idiot belting out some sorry tale at eleven o’clock in the night time without any consideration that he was walking in a residential area. In his voice, pure ignorance. I keep on telling you. I hate other people.’

‘They also hate you.’ Alfonso said, smiling.

‘I know they do. That is why I return their hate with interest,’ I told Alfonso. ‘But unlike them, I don’t hate them because of their skin colour or culture. I hate them because of their selfishness and their meanness. Their love of dishonour and atrocity and injustice. The lack of any love in their hearts except for themselves. They want to fuck themselves and they do fuck themselves. There was a reason that masturbation was a prime sin in the bible.’

‘Why can’t you forgive those that reject you?’

‘Why should I? The problem that my people have faced is rejection and devaluation. In India, we were Untouchables, the lowest caste. They devalued us. They could not see us as fellow humans. Here in England, they see you as an outsider and they devalue you correspondingly. They have rejected us. And by doing so, they become devalued. They become scum. They become vermin.’

‘Can’t you just see them as having a mental condition? As patients?’

‘No. You do not believe in evil and sin. I do. They are evil. They sin. They should be punished for their wrongs.’

‘You would punish them?’

‘Any time these cowards have dared to come up in my face, I have given them the answer. Even when they walk about in their hordes like sheep. I know the truth. I never back down. They think because there are more of them, they can do whatever they want. I don’t let them. I have never backed down from a fight from anyone. It doesn’t matter if it is an institution that is more powerful than me or a group of six or eight racists. I always go. I’m a warrior. They call me Tiger. I call myself Tiger. Tiger has teeth. Tiger is always ready to fight. Always. Only the coward does not fight.’

‘There are those that believe in peace.’

‘No one more than me. But when peace becomes dishonour, then it is the time to fight. And that time is now.’

‘For you, it is always now.’

‘It is always now.’

‘One day, you will be in serious trouble.’

‘Let us hope that that beautiful day comes soon. My mouth waters at the prospect. But until then, the hand of The Mother is upon my head. I am protected.’

‘What if I said there was no Mother?’

‘She is an ideal. An ideal exists in mental reality. The Mother is a representation of the perfect warrior, the life force. And the life force has decided that nothing will ever happen to me. Even in this world of enemies.’