"I Am An Anti-National…Count Me Out"
In the name of patriotism, do not demand my complicity for your endless crimes.
I am an Agmark 100% anti-national. I am an anti-national. Please
go ahead and prepare a prison cell for me. Keep in mind that I have a
slight preference for solitary confinement. I do not want to play the
role of cheerleader for a caste society that massacres an entire Dalit
village in one night, a police force that colludes in such killing, a
political system that justifies these atrocities, a court mafia that
allows oppressor-caste culprits to walk away and a nation that allows
this nightmare to happen again and again. I want to secede from this
sickness.
A nation of mass graves in Kashmir and mass rapes in Bastar can cease to exist. The murders by your military and paramilitaries hold your India together, and since this puffs you up with pride, I wish funeral dirges replace your national anthem. The change in music will change your appreciation of the situation.
For a poem about the father of this nation, I had my books burnt. I no longer address Gandhi in poetry, Iresort
to the coarsest curses that my mother-tongue provides. Advertised as
India’s greatest freedom fighter, his killers today call themselves
India’s greatest patriots.
The Constitution may be celebratory, but at the end ofa day , its implementation depends on a judiciary that quotes
and upholds the Manusmriti. I have nothing but utter contempt for these
courts and criminal jurisprudence that targets Dalits, Adivasis and
Muslims.
This is the glorious nation whose farmers are pushed to suicide, whose workers are beaten up on factory floors, whose university campuses are laid siege by the police. Banks here exist for the sake of corporates who control the state. In the India where the 1% owns more than half the wealth, national pride is available on a supermarket shelf.
Soaked in the blood of each of the girl children who were not allowed to be born—and that is one woman like me killed for every ten men you see in this country of a billion people—the Indian tricolour has lost the moral fibre to even be used as a menstrual pad. Nation of female genocide, no flag can cover your shame.
I wish to have nothing to do with the idea of an Indian nation. In the name of patriotism, do not demand my complicity for your endless crimes. Count me out.
Meena Kandasamy is a poet, writer, activist and translator. Herwork focuses
on caste annihilation, linguistic identity and feminism. She has
published two collections of poetry, Touch (2006) and Ms Militancy
(2010). Her first novel, The Gypsy Goddess was published by Atlantic
Books (UK) and HarperCollins India in 2014.
(The views expressed in the Freedom Series are personal and do not necessarily reflect the views of ‘Outlook’ magazine or its journalists.)
A nation of mass graves in Kashmir and mass rapes in Bastar can cease to exist. The murders by your military and paramilitaries hold your India together, and since this puffs you up with pride, I wish funeral dirges replace your national anthem. The change in music will change your appreciation of the situation.
For a poem about the father of this nation, I had my books burnt. I no longer address Gandhi in poetry, I
The Constitution may be celebratory, but at the end of
This is the glorious nation whose farmers are pushed to suicide, whose workers are beaten up on factory floors, whose university campuses are laid siege by the police. Banks here exist for the sake of corporates who control the state. In the India where the 1% owns more than half the wealth, national pride is available on a supermarket shelf.
Soaked in the blood of each of the girl children who were not allowed to be born—and that is one woman like me killed for every ten men you see in this country of a billion people—the Indian tricolour has lost the moral fibre to even be used as a menstrual pad. Nation of female genocide, no flag can cover your shame.
I wish to have nothing to do with the idea of an Indian nation. In the name of patriotism, do not demand my complicity for your endless crimes. Count me out.
Meena Kandasamy is a poet, writer, activist and translator. Her
(The views expressed in the Freedom Series are personal and do not necessarily reflect the views of ‘Outlook’ magazine or its journalists.)
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