Came to your land and mine,
Men who looked great and divine.
Offered you cups of wine,
Took you away from the Holy Sign.
Gave you values and ideas new,
And thus, your mind started to brew
A passion for them, and in your heart grew
Ways to part from your own kin.

No longer your color, your life looked pretty
Whatever was theirs, seemed good and glittery
Religion was boring, Oxford was witty
The veils came off, the bodies turned skinny
Whatever they say is the absolute truth
For women, elderly, babies and youth
Your mind was theirs, your life and growth
Until they fled with your riches in hand.

Then came liberty and its 70 autumns,
A deep, dark hole with plenty of bottoms.
An endless pit of thoughts all rotten,
An infinite time with minds all knotten.
You were them, but you were not.
You were us, no longer sought.
Who were you? You recalled and thought
With a body free and a mind still locked.

This is a story with no end yet,
Time’s here to with a finale, be met
Will you choose to remain in dark?
Or befriend a light that’s stark?
See your enemies for who they are.
Pirates, looters and thieves from afar.
Jerk away their rule on your stars,
And learn to think for yourself.

Author’s Note: Dear fellow Pakisatnis and Indians, I wish you our Independence Day(s) with a heavy heart. May Allah give us the opportunity to truly free ourselves from the clutches of our enemies, just like we freed our physical selves from them 70 years ago. May we learn to think independently without the influence of the West hovering above our every decision.

“Imperialism leaves behind germs of rot which we must clinically detect and remove from our land but from our minds as well.”

— Frantz Fanon, Wretched of the Earth

Featured Image via IBTimes India

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