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Perhaps, this time, you went too far.
As a Muslim in Modi’s India, there are many days when you simply feel miserable. When you wake up to politicians openly calling for your murder. Day after day after day, the government makes sure you’re reminded of your second-class citizen status, and we live on clinging to hope. Maybe this is a phase. Maybe it will stop. India has stood its ground, always. Two men can’t change anything. We’re counting days. Keep counting days.
My father teaches in Jamia. It has been a safe place for me my whole life. A place I am unafraid to see my father go to. A place where Hindus aren’t afraid of Urdu sign-boards, and Muslim teachers aren’t asked to resign. A place where the fragrance of flowers fill the polluted Delhi air with rebellion, and students’ laughter resonates in corridors, echoing through time.
A place where women from the most conservative families dare to step out, because they feel at home. A place where arts and sciences dance to the rhythm of development. A place that allows and encourages people with different opinions to learn and flourish: From a Barkha Dutt to an Anjana Om. A place where brotherhood stands beyond everything.
Dragged, abused, beaten, shot at. Hijabs ripped off, mosques tear-gassed, libraries torn apart, women hit with batons. The anti-constitutional CAA (Citizenship Amendment Act) is passed, the perfect salt to be aggressively rubbed onto Muslim wounds after the blatantly unfair Supreme Court judgment on Ayodhya. All of this, in the heart of the capital. They thought, just like then, Muslims will keep quiet. That this time too you will scare Muslims into silence. The country will keep quiet. But how far do you go with your hate? How far do you polarise people to take away from the real issues? How far do you push someone?
Music fills the air when the azaan plays with temple bells, humanity dances to that tune. You’ve done your bit, you tried a lot. You painted over secularism with black, you decorated it with the blood of innocent students, your painting disgusts me. We reject your picture of India. Just like we rejected Pakistan.
We aren’t that. But what are we? A place where thousands of languages and religions and cultures come together to make a concoction sweeter than any. Where people come together and celebrate the unity in our diversity. Where personal insecurities are never bigger than the love that holds everyone together.
You see, at a point, everything snaps.
And this time you went too far.
Come together, India. This isn’t a fight for Muslims, this is a fight to save the very heartbeat of Hindustaan.
To my Hindu brothers, who stand with us on the ground, thank you. Thank you, not for standing for us, but standing for OUR country. For reminding the Hindu-rashtra hungry wolves that we do NOT serve that meat here. To those who want to give us examples of countries like Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, we remind them that India doesn’t aim to be another failed state. I am also sorry. I am sorry your beautiful religion was ridiculed like this. That ‘Jai Sri Ram’ was turned into a war cry by these hate mongers, just like the world did with ‘Allahu Akbar’. You deserve better too.
To my Muslim brothers, salaam. You are doing so well. I’m so proud to be one of you. You glow in the patience you’ve shown over the last few years. When they call us ‘peacefuls’, own it. Yes we are, we are peaceful. We protest. We demand what is right. When they call you out for your clothes, wear your skull cap proud. Wrap that hijab tighter. Our rights aren’t dependent on the clothes we wear. The dignity we deserve as honest citizens can’t be dependent on that.
Kamzor nahi hain hum. You can’t make us fear our own identities.
Come together India. No internet blackout can silence a song sung together by over a billion people.
Abhi nahi, toh kabhi nahi.
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Published: 16 Dec 2019,05:04 PM IST