*😔Happy Republic Day😔*
*(O my beloved country, may Allah always keep you safe)*
January 26th is the day when our country not only received a date but also a covenant in the form of law, a covenant in which power was bound by principle and authority was chained by regulation. January 26th is when the state promised that now decisions would not be made by desire, but by the constitution, and every aspect of governance would be subject to a set principle. January 26th is when our country was imprisoned by laws, but this imprisonment was not of slavery but of responsibility; an imprisonment that transforms chaos into order and weighs the unbridled hands of power on the scales of justice. January 26th is when everything received an organized principle, a principle that was written on paper with ink, but its purpose was to create ease, protection, and dignity in the lives of the countrymen. January 26th is what reminds us that law should not only be a weapon of the state but also a shield of the people, and the constitution is not just a book but a moral covenant of the nation. This day is also a celebration and an accountability of how much we have lived, understood, and fulfilled these principles.
O country, your honor, your elevation, your dignity is truly very precious to us. We have called this land honorable, we have sacrificed for it, we have shed blood for it, but today the truth is that every vein of ours has been wounded, there is no vein that is not wounded, there is no breath that does not include pain. We live with questions and we live in the shadow of fear.
*Sometimes our cap is attacked,* the cap that our elders considered a symbol of honor, today it is pulled off on the streets, laughed at, made a symbol of hatred, and we are told that this is all normal, this is all freedom of expression. *Sometimes our beard is attacked,* the beard that was worship, dignity, and identity, is made a crime, it is forcibly cut, it is insulted, to the extent that the beard of a seventy-year-old man is cut and he is put to death with this cruelty, and society remains silent. *Sometimes our clothes are torn to shreds,* we are stripped naked in the middle of a crowd, our honor is crushed, our humiliation is made a spectacle, and then it is said that we ourselves spoiled the atmosphere. *Sometimes our existence is injured,* we are sacrificed to illegal slogans, we are dragged and beaten to death, sticks break on our bodies, and Holi is played with our blood on the streets, but the faces of the murderers are blurred. *Sometimes the Delhi mosque is attacked,* where the sanctity of the place of worship is violated, locks are put on, vandalism occurs, provocative slogans are raised, the police are present but remain silent, and justice is nowhere to be seen. *Sometimes the Jama Masjid of Bulandshahr becomes the target,* where an attack is carried out during prayer time, the pulpit is trampled, the mosque is made a field of politics, and then the blame is also put on the Muslims that they caused the riot. *Sometimes the Sambhal Jama Masjid is attacked,* where the sanctity of the mosque is trampled, worship is made a crime, worshipers are made criminals, and the attackers roam freely, and the limit is reached when countless injured are caught in a barrage of bullets, and those who fire the bullets are not ordinary people but those who are taught the sacred book of law. *But still, the lives of Muslim children are taken mercilessly,* neither is there any mention of their fault, nor do the names of the murderers come forward, just a few news items run and then everything is buried, as if these lives have no meaning. *Sometimes a curfew is imposed in Moradabad for twenty-five days, fifty-one people are put to death,* the streets become deserted, there is mourning in the houses, but in government papers everything becomes a normal procedure. *Sometimes a poor Muslim's hut is demolished simply because he is a Muslim,* its roof is snatched from the heads of his children, the bulldozer becomes justice, and oppression is given the name of legal action. *Sometimes historical tombs in Delhi are attacked, our history is tried to be erased, our heritage is targeted, and it is said that all this is happening in the name of development. Sometimes there are talks of ending Islam, sometimes there are demands to ban the Azan, sometimes restrictions are placed on madrassas, those madrassas where knowledge, morality, and humanity are taught, they are viewed with suspicion and linked to terrorism, sometimes the Babri Masjid is martyred, and even after years the wounds remain fresh, hope of justice is given but the soul never finds peace.* *Sometimes a twenty-two-year-old youth (Tabrez Ansari) is beaten to a pulp, and he is asked to chant religious slogans, eventually his life is taken, his mother's screams do not become news, his father remains just a number, sometimes a nineteen-year-old Muslim daughter (Ayesha) is subjected to brutality in the markets, her honor is looted, and then questions are also asked of her.* *Sometimes in the name of love trap, our existence is defamed, our generations are made criminals under a conspiracy, sometimes a nine-year-old Muslim girl (Fatima) is raped, sometimes a fifteen-year-old girl (Ruqaiya) is put to death, but sensitivity ends as soon as the identity changes.*
*Sometimes our Sharia is attacked, while the same constitution guarantees religious freedom, sometimes cases are filed against Waqf lands, sometimes our scholars are put behind bars, sometimes our sisters' hijab is banned, sometimes our brothers are kicked while praying, sometimes swords are wielded in front of our mosques, and sometimes the police create a ruckus and Muslim youth are arrested,* *and the limit is reached when the hand that reaches out to remove the veil from the face of a Muslim girl is the hand of someone who is responsible, and it is a pity that people still seem to support him.*
*I would like to ask, O respected day of the Constitution of India, the day on which our constitution was given to us, do you allow all these atrocities? Then every page of the Constitution of India seems to forbid it. Then tell me, with what face should we celebrate the Constitution of India when the Constitution of India is desecrated? With what face should we celebrate this so sacred day? The day that is called the day of constitution, justice, and responsibility of every religion, what face should we show to this law which is still sacred in papers but the faith of those who run it has completely ended.*
This country is called secular, but its condition has become so bad that the tongue trembles while describing it. We are not against the constitution, we are not against the country, we are only against the oppression that is being done in the name of the constitution and the country. If even after seeing all this, January 26th is a celebration, then remember that this day now requires a question for us, and this question will not remain silent now, but will speak at every turn. We want all those clauses from the Constitution of India through which oppression has been done on us. If they exist, then we are deserving, and if they do not exist, and surely they do not exist in it, then we need an answer from every person through whom all these mountains of oppression have been broken on us, and I can prove it, under the Constitution of India, all these are oppressions on us, oppressions, oppressions, the Constitution of India does not allow all these.
But still we say:
Saare jahan se achha Hindustan hamara (Better than the entire world, is our India)
Hum bulbulein hain iski yeh gulistan hamara (We are its nightingales, and this is our garden)
Godhi mein khelti hain jiski hazaron nadiyaan (In whose lap play thousands of rivers)
Gulshan hai jis ke dam se hum saya aasman ka (Whose garden makes us the shadow of the sky)
Mazhab nahi sikhata aapas mein bair rakhna (Religion does not teach us to harbor animosity among ourselves)
Hindi hain hum watan hai Hindostan hamara (We are Indians, and India is our homeland)
Iqbal koi marham apna nahi jahan mein (Iqbal, there is no balm of our own in the world)
Maloom kya kisi ko dard nishan hamara (Does anyone know the pain of our wounds?).
Time: 11:59m 59second
*✍️Student of Al-Jamiatul Ashrafia✍️*