Dear India,⠀

I believed in every word uttered by Allama Iqbal in “Saare Jahan se Accha, Hindustan Hamara”. Papa made me paint my own tiranga for a Republic day event when I was five. It was one of the first things I painted with perfection. I believed him when he said, ‘beta tirange ki shaan hi alag hai’⠀

I cried with every tear you shed. I smiled with utter joy everytime the world clapped for you. I loved you, like I have loved no-one and nothing else⠀

What changed? The love is dying India. You’re killing it, day by day, body by body. Why are you choking me? What did I do? Was my love not enough?⠀

You came for my people one by one. Ikhlaq, Tabrez, Junaid, Sahrukh Halder. I thought it was just a phase. Babri 1992, Bombay 1992, Gujarat 2002, Muzaffarnagar 2013, Delhi 2020. Each time you said it was communal, then why were 80%+ victims Muslim? You killed some of us and jailed the rest⠀

You got inside my university, beat up my friends infront of me, abused them with racial slurs. I thought there was still hope. But with each blow you killed my hope⠀

Slowly and steadily. Papa taught me to love you but he never told me that I will always be hated in return, that I will never be loyal enough, that my name would always mean much more than my love⠀

Luqman was your last blow. It could as easily have been my father and brother who spent all day today distributing the qurbani meat in slums. Would you in your blood thirst have believed them if they said it was mutton and not beef? Would you have seen reason?⠀

Congratulations! You finally broke me down. Your hate has hardened beyond my love’s ability to soften it⠀

India is my country but all Indians are not my brothers and sisters. Some of them are lynchers, murderers, killers, Islamophobes, inhumane, fascism enablers, and blood thirsty individuals⠀

All they know is to hate and kill or stay silent, and celebrate the bloodshed. You will always crave my blood for I am a Muslim⠀

I wish I could help you fight the disease that has enslaved your mind and filled you with hatred. But I can do nothing if you have no desire to heal.⠀

With Deep Disappointment,⠀

An Indian Muslim

Publisher’s Note: This letter was shared with us by an anonymous user and Forever Muslim doesn’t take any responsibility of the opinions expressed in it.

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