Five thousand miles and 95 years

An accompaniment to Salaam Blog's A Hijra to Nowhere

My dear great grandnephew

Five thousand miles and ninety five years

Down the stream of my tears

On a caravan bereft of mind

We were once at a similar place,

Clutching at straws in desperation

Following mughal capitulation,

Corporate colonisation, and failure of insurrection.

Others have been there too,

Been an awful five odd hundred years, since 1492.

Bani al insan is covered in such wounds,all over her body.

Bani al insane to add to them, so fecklessly as you do.

Remember ‘British India’ PO Box Dar ul Harb?

Those days when Hindustan was the hearth of anti-colonial endeavour.

Several partitions ago.

And the ulama were more worthy of the name

Seizing opportunity from uncertainty,

Somebody suggested Muslim exodus from India,

A hijra to Afghanistan.

Thousands followed, selling their assets for hope

The seduction of an escapist idea,

An emotionally palliative bumwave

Fiqhxed like a brick through the window of the tyrant's palace.

That simply sounds the alarm to further lobotomy

We be meat to the political cleavers

Of sold-out imbeciles bearing arabesque words.

Golden Ganders for mincers

Makers of our own annihilation

My dear great grandnephew

Five thousand miles and ninety five years

Down the stream of my tears

On a caravan bereft of mind

Moving out of coloniality

Reducing White supremacy

To its actual minority

Takes more than salafi necromancy.

The mujahids of 1857

Could sure have used your IT.

So how about a time machine?

Write back soon.