It wasn't what she said
Just the murmur 
Beneath her breath 
They are Mohammedans, she said
Staring straight ahead
Not wanting to meet the eye
And give away the lie 
Of concern hiding contempt
And care as a feeble attempt
Amiability accompanying vigil
Benevolence masking grudges
Nothing personal really
Just an inheritance—
Of fear and hate.

K S Narendran

The last time I heard ‘Mohammedan’ in conversation was during long chit-chats with my mother-in-law, a decade ago.