I am a Muslim and I don’t eat mutton chicken beef. Not because someone tells me not to but because I don’t want to. With that finishes the possibility of me being lynched to death by some ‘excited boys’ who may get carried away and make a beef kebab of me.
Oh little mercies of life!
A few of my great online contacts who are first ‘coaxed’ and then ‘forced’ to read the first drafts of my articles, know well I have a beef with this Policing My Plate.
But the ever green cynic in me; in my worst nightmares could not imagine such a #Dadri.
The whole incident seems ridiculous. You kill a man because what he ate for his dinner?
Some images begin whirling around me.
Some ten years ago, A 13 year old beautiful girl was battling the last stages of Leukemia in the king of cities Mumbai always bubbling with a beautiful chaos. Several blood transfusions were needed in a day, the hospital kept demanding for donors.
Donor lao, nahin toh platelets nahin mile ga.
(Bring donors or you won’t get platelets.)
Her parents were exasperated. Where to bring the donors from? The city was alien to them. Looking at their grim faces; a police constable politely asked if he could donate blood for the girl. He also brought food for them. Just across the hospital there was an akhara and when the news reached there, blood began to flow for the little dying girl.
It may not sound anything special but what if you are told the constable and the boys from akhara were all Hindus and the dying child was a Muslim, [ with grief I share their religious identities] These Hindus too shed their blood but for a person they didn’t know and who belonged to a different hue.
A thousand salutes.
Now let’s visit Dadri.
“Even if it was beef, do they think that God wants them to beat a man to death?”
She was true to her name Veeravati, the Brave, wife of a retired school teacher in the same Bisada village, who rescued Rahimuddin who was sleeping outside his home that day, from a Hindu mob.
Official responses differ in different countries. Comparing Obama’s ‘Cool Clock,Ahmed’ tweet and our Prime Minister’s initial silence and late response, ‘Listen to My President, O, You Yeah’ are silly. Obama being a bekar president with only a limited number of phoren yatras, has nothing worthwhile to do hence tweeted,
While Muslims must condemn every single terrorist act, there should be a hushed quiet from the other side; because it communalizes the issue.
But still the akhara boys and a la Veeravati often stand up and say,
Yeh dil maange, NO More.
The Black night of odium stubbornly refuses to end. But end it must.
In Digital India as decreed by our Hon PM at San Jose among tears and pauses, I as a true Indian[ believe me if you can, try you must Sirs and Madams] am writing a few, heartfelt, headstrong, weak limb shaken hands text messages to some persons of grave importance. Those days of An Open Letter to …… ; are over. In
fact anyone romanticizing the idea of letters in these ‘Digi-times’ should be made to listen to Honey Singh for nonstop3 hours or if you are really pissed off make it Baba Ram Raheem Insan.
So here they come.
To Modi ji’s Pilot:
Boss, you are a damn good driver. 28 trips to foreign lands in 16 months! World record of sorts Yaar .Do you ever get to rest your limbs and fingers? The travel bug has really bitten you or you have become the proverbial travel bug yourself?
I hear, after landing at the Delhi airport whenever Modi ji is visiting India, you ask him “Boss, Shall I wait or go?”
Naughty naughty pilot you are. Someday divert your train oops your plane to Dadri,its just 45 kms from Delhi. Even before you say Modi ji…you will be at Akhlaque’s home or whatever remains of it.
To all the Municipalities of UP:
As the hot issue of lynching has been trending in India in general and in UP in
particular; taking cue from #Dadri ; convert all the roads and gullies of interior villages of the state of UP into, Black Tar Beauties. You never know when maai baap politicians would start popping up in your region after err……
To Mughal e Azam Khan:
Bhai, as you are leaving for the United Nations, let me pack 5 kgs of khalli, and 10 kilos of fresh grass for our buffaloes. New York grass is infected and they don’t know how to spell khalli. Say salams [and even qadam bosi( paye lagu) ] to your Bhainses.
To the poet Allama Iqbal:
Sir, this is to inform you that we are going to stop singing your, Sare Jahan se acha, with immediate effect, till further notice. Don’t ask us why, else we will ban it and cause your turning in the grave with Sare jahan se acha Bannistan hamara.
You have already left us fumbling forever with your onceptualization of Pakistan which is now our neighboring country and who, our enemies say, has better fast bowlers (unfortunately they also happen to be handsome…..Sigh…the mother of all Sighs. ) and better ghazal singers.
You should not have done this. What you did, O Iqbal ! Some people here want to send us to Pakistan when we want to eat our dinner.
It’s all your fault.
To The People:
Keep faith. Keep speaking.
To Mohammad Akhlaque
Your last desperate call was to your Hindu friend.
You died, but Hope hasn’t.
Sare jahan se acha……
Dr.Asma Anjum Khan [@saysanjum] [Maharashtra,Asst.Prof.of English at a