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“Tum kuch bhi karlo, azaadi!
Tum police bulao, azaadi!
Tum dande maro, azaadi!
Hum nahi jhukenge, azaadi!
Tum jail mein daalo, azaadi!
Hum nahi rukenge, azaadi!
Hum leke rahenge, azaadi!”
A strange nervousness laced the air as I got off the Grant Road station in Mumbai to make my way to the August Kranti Maidan to protest the Citizenship Amendment Act, a blatantly discriminatory and anti-constitutional law being introduced in the country.
A part of me started playing and replaying the images of police brutality from Jamia Millia Islamia a few days back. The screams of young students, the images of blood splattered on the floor of a mosque, broken libraries filled with tear-gas shells. Was this going to be a repetition of that horror?
Mumbai, you did what I thought wasn’t possible. You didn’t just remind me of what this country stands for, you made me give up the hatred in my own heart - one, that as a member of the most othered minority in the country, I had made part of myself.
I reached the maidan at 3:30 pm, half an hour before the protest was scheduled to start, and from the moment I went in, all I saw was a constant inflow of people. People - real people. The rich to the poor, the celebrities and the children, the angry teenagers and the teary-eyed old men, the women in skirts and the women in burqas. All one, all together, all determined to do what needed to be done.
For the first time in my life, I did not care about the crowd around me. Surrounded by thousands and thousands of men, and not once did I feel unsafe. The stares for once were not lecherous, they were comforting smiles, expressions of endearment and encouragement. A sea of people as far as the eye can see. Police smiling at protestors and showing them the way. Little girls chanting “hum dekhenge...”, as celebrities came on to the stage saying what needed to be said. Protestors, fearless in their messaging, held up placards expressing their frustrations. As if those words held their pain and it was finally time to let the world see, and let it go.
The Mumbai protest against the CAA was a reminder, most of all, of the power of the people. It was a reminder of the things “internet activism” can achieve. No Muslim was asked to take off his skull-cap, no Hindu was afraid to stand there amongst them. The narrative of hate, just like internet services in Kashmir, simply did not work there. Love knows love, you see? There were no sub-groups, it was one strong muscle pushing itself to work towards defeating the disease that has entered the body. Mumbai’s song was sung loud and proud and it had one message - enough is enough, your time has come.
Mumbai helped us reclaim our identities. Mumbai reminded us that we can’t be divided on the clothes we wear and the God’s we look up to. Once again we shunned the ideas of Godse and Jinnah, because flowers are more powerful than bullets. Smiles can do more than hate speeches.
The people are knocking on doors, and they’re asking for you.
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)
Published: 20 Dec 2019,01:19 PM IST