Dear India,
He says, “We will identify the violent ones from their clothes.”
Identify me, marching forward with torchlights.
Let that light emanate from my rage to fight and unite.
Identify me by my clothes or even the direction of my votes.
But why by where I study?
Under the table, in the toilets – why do we have to hide if we are innocent?
They said it is the government’s right, but dear India, do they detest dreams too?
Now identify me, identify us, I want you to identify us by our clothes.
We may be in a hijab, a sari, a kurta. But we surpass the pain.
Our passion soars on the roads,
we find hope in those dilapidated spaces time and again.
Dear India, our ship flows in one book, one flag, and one feeling.
In that feeling, no matter our identification,
there is no us and them but only a “we”.
(All 'My Report' branded stories are submitted by citizen journalists to The Quint. Though The Quint inquires into the claims/allegations from all parties before publishing, the report and the views expressed above are the citizen journalist's own. The Quint neither endorses, nor is responsible for the same.)