Mehboob and Noor host adopted son’s wedding under Hindu customs
The Naikwadis adopted Somashekhar and his brother nearly 20 years ago after a tragic road accident orphaned them.
Hearts Without Borders: Muslim Couple’s Hindu Son’s Wedding Melts Divides in Karnataka
In Hukkeri, a sleepy town hugging the Karnataka-Maharashtra border, where sugarcane fields sway and life’s simple, something magical unfolded on February 8, 2026. Amid India’s rising communal static—riots here, hate there—a Muslim couple, Mehboob Hasan Naikwadi and Noor Jahan, threw a wedding that screamed unity. Their adopted son, Somashekar Pujeri, a Hindu lad, tied the knot with Poonam in full Veerashaiva Lingayat glory: sacred threads, Linga puja, mantras echoing. No mosque, no temple standoff—just one big family feast, villagers mingling like old pals.
Mehboob, 70s, retired KSRTC driver with callused hands from years at the wheel, and Noor, his rock of 40 years, stood beaming in the marriage hall. They welcomed guests from bylanes, oversaw aartis, even sponsored the bash despite modest means—five bio kids already, home bursting. “Love knows no religion,” Mehboob grinned post-ceremony, topi askew, eyes twinkling. Community bigwig Basavaprabhu Vantamuri blessed it: “Mehboob’s act is society’s beacon amid tensions.” Cheers erupted; harmony tasted sweet.
Rewind 20 years to heartbreak. Shivanand Kadayya Pujeri, Mehboob’s buddy, and wife perish in a brutal road crash near Hukkeri. Left: toddlers Somashekar (then 5-ish) and brother Vasant, no kin stepping up. Mehboob rallied friends, scoured villages—no takers. “These are my friend’s blood,” he thought. With Noor nodding fiercely—”Allah tests the kind-hearted”—they adopted. No papers needed then; just humanity. Raised alongside their own four sons and daughter, the boys got love, schoolbooks, scoldings over homework.
Somashekar bloomed: BSc grad, now aviation whiz in Belagavi, wings clipped only by dreams. Vasant thrives too. Mehboob, assets slim as his frame, shrugs reporters: “Nothing extraordinary. Everyone here’s family. I’m thrilled they studied, jobs earned. Dying satisfied—duty done.” Noor’s quiet strength? Kitchen wisdom, festivals blended—Eid mutton biryani meets Ganpati modak. Boys call them “Amma-Abba,” faith fluid as Ganges.
Poonam, from staunch Lingayat roots, fit seamless. Family friend donned priest robes; Muslim kin danced to shehnai. Guests: Hindus, Muslims, all. In tense India—love jihad whispers, mob frenzies—this defies. Hukkeri’s no outlier; Karnataka’s border vibe mixes Marathi-Kannada, faiths fluid. Yet Naikwadis shine: Proof adoption’s heart, not blood; rituals honor roots, not rigid.
Mehboob awaits Vasant’s wedding—”Eagerly!”—wallet light, spirit full. Their home? Modest Hukkeri lane house, photos galore: boys’ graduations, Eids, Diwalis. Neighbors recall: Noor fasting for boys’ exams, Mehboob skipping smokes for fees. Somashekar: “They saved us, gave life twice.” Poonam blushes: “In-laws? Pure gold.”
This ripples. Social media buzzes—#HarmonyWedding trends. Leaders nod; haters mute. In polarized times, Naikwadis whisper: Barriers? Man-made. Love? Universal. Basavaprabhu nailed it—example supreme. As fireworks lit Hukkeri skies, Mehboob hugged Somashekar: “Go build your nest, beta.” Noor wiped tears, feeding sweets.
India needs this glow. Communal fires rage, but here, embers of empathy burn bright. Mehboob-Noor: Unsung saints, teaching faith’s true face. Village feasts on, story spreads—may it quench hate’s thirst.