Bade be-aabru hokar...

Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisee ki Har Khwahish Pe Dam Nikle
Bohot Nikle mere armaan lekin Phir Bhee Kam Nikle

Thousands of desires, each worth dying for...
many of them I have realized...yet I yearn for more...

Nikalna Khuld Se Aadam Ka Sunte Aaye The Lekin,
Bade Be-Aabru Hokar Tere Kooche Se Hum Nikle.

We have heard about the dismissal of Adam from Heaven,
With a more humiliation, I am leaving the street on which you live...

Ghalib Mirza Asadullah Khan. Here 

My Little hands

I clean the shoes on their feet

That they thrust at my 7-year old face

But I understand, he’s a city man

My little hands dare not make him late.


I wake up to work, I walk to work

I sleep only so that I can work

When I get to work I’m beaten to work,

Even though I never stop,

Harder, faster, better or beating

I eat whatever makes me work.

One day we were awarded an hour’s break,

So I leaned back on the factory’s outer wall,

Looking at the buildings, and roads and shimmering dresses,

And thought: I had a hand in them all!

But as I looked at my hands,

Bruised and rough, like a tired old man’s,

I wondered: Is a hand in them all I will have?

What I was to shed as tears for my predicament,

I shed it all as sweat.

But suddenly, I was surprised to find,

A tear slowly creep out of my eyes,

How could it be? I asked myself

But then I realized…

It was just how my body sweats… in my hour of rest.

Zaynab Chinoy in her blog. Here

I am a Muslim and an Indian

I am a Muslim and an Indian

 I am a Muslim and an Indian because my heart cries every time a human is slaughtered in the name of religion

I am in shambles whenever the ‘up holders’ of rule of law use it to justify murders, rapes and pograms.

I am a Muslim and an Indian because my tears do not recognize the difference between an Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Sikh, Dalit, Tamizhan, Kannadiga, Telugu, Malayali or an Atheist

It pains to witness the Courts being used as the sheltor of merchants of deaths, rapists, murderers instead of as a place to deliver Justice.

I am appalled when judgements, meant to deliver messages of justice, call out for injustice.

I cry when innocent youth - my brothers and your brothers - lose their lives in fake encounters.

I am appalled when ordinary Muslim youth lose their precious years in jails just because they happened to be born as Muslims in India.

I am a Muslim and an Indian because inciting violence in the name of religion, caste, language offends me more than corrupted netas and swindling babus.

I am a Muslim and an Indian because I choose to speak; to question.
I want to ask, why?

Why are merchants of deaths and mass murderers allowed to get away with bails?

I want to ask, what?
What religion, ideology or culture justifies shielding cold blooded murderers and architects of Genocides?

I want to ask, where?
Where are all the promises of peace, co-existence, plurality that were promised by Indian constitution?

I want to ask, how?
How did the pillars of democracy, which were meant to guide us and hold us together in unity, became the tool for discrimination?

I want to ask, who?
Who will put an end to this tragic state of affairs?

I want to ask, when?

When will we realize that injustice feeds injustice?

But I know there would be no answer.
Ignore me. 

Silence me with your silence.

Because, I am a Muslim and an Indian.

Source of Inspiration : Sana Saleem. Here