The recent lynching of teenaged boy Junaid in the name of Beefeater left our columnist Mahima deeply shocked. Unable to participate in #NotInMyName protest as she was travelling, she decided to be a part of the protest through her poem. She asks all of us to stand up against such brutal acts, as mute spectators, we all are bloodstained. A Different Truths exclusive.
Why in my name?
No, not in my name.
You do the killings,
The blood is in your name.
But the stain…the red stain is there on all of us,
Whether Pehlu Khan or Junaid, the stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Maybe you are one of those 200 who saw Junaid being lynched,
Maybe you were blind to see Junaid die helpless,
Maybe you don’t Care,
Maybe you don’t Dare,
But my friend, the stain of their blood is on all of us,
And the stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Maybe you live in a secular region,
Maybe your neighbours are your friends all season,
Maybe on Eid, you were in arms of Muslim friends,
But Junaid’s mother was bidding his body adieu with garlands,
Cow our mother you think will be proud?
To see a young boy killed and wrapped in a shroud?
India the land of festivals stands lynched,
And the blood stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Even if your society isn’t part of this bloodbath,
Even if you watched it on media away from the real wrath,
Even if you didn’t fight for your right to violence and might,
Even if you didn’t raise your hand… though the fists were tight,
But the land of Ram, Rahim, Buddha, Mahavir stands red-shamed by own people,
And the blood stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Maybe you love peace,
Maybe you shun hate-speech,
Even of you honour the opposite’s identity,
Even if you don’t belong to a maybe cruel city,
But my friend from the land of Babri-Ram Lala, our hands are red,
And the blood stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Whether you wear green, white or saffron,
Whether you pray with open palms or closed,
Whether you are proud of ‘an animal’ as your mother,
Whether your heart bleeds at the plight of ‘the other’
But Oh my friend holding the Tricolour in our hand,
Do we deserve to unfurl it proudly and grand?
No, not with the blood stain getting deeper on you and me.
Maybe you feel ‘the other’ deserves to be in another land,
Maybe you believe that ‘cow protector’ is no longer a friend,
Even if on politicians you call the blame,
Even if you feel like a pawn in this brutal game,
But my friend with our weak heart, blind eyes and self-muted speech…
The blood stain is getting deeper on you and me.
Junaid was her son,
Pehlu was his father,
And more were killed in our name,
But why should we take the blame?
Awake, arise and stand up for justice,
As the blood stain is getting deeper on you and me.
They lynched them in our name,
We sat watching and took all the blame?
Why in my name?
No, not in my name.
You do the killings,
The blood is in your name.
So, let’s speak up, protest, and unite against brutality,
Because, till then, the blood stain gets deeper on you and me.
©Mahima Sharma
Photos by Rana Safvi, Parshwati Saha and Arunava Sinha
#NotInMyName #Poem #ProtestPoem #Society #Beefeaters #CowProtector #DifferentTruths
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