Credits: The Telegraph

I am an Independent Indian.

I like to take law in my strong bare hands and lynch people on the slightest of “suspicions”.

I feel proud to circulate messages of “nationalism”, hatred and bigotry on WhatsApp.

I laugh out loud at paper-puppet-politicians from opposing parties, accusing and hurling shoes at each other on prime-time news.

I endorse biased journalism, fraudulent news, and groupthink.

I censor films that are too “forward-thinking” or “women-oriented”.

I subjugate an entire people, interrogate them on a whim, use them as human shields and brand them as terrorists.

I use bombs to make a sound so that I can be heard.

I get silenced, talked over, stomped over, raped over and over again.

I believe that love is only in marriage and marriage is strictly between a man and a woman of ages six to infinity.

I consume products that make women more fair and women more unfaired and men more manly and godmen more godly.

I never consume beef, pork, and the likes.

In fact, I sleep on an empty stomach, most days.

I rewrite stories in history books to fabricate the truth of my past, present and future.

I endorse yoga and cow urine as the end-all solution to problems plaguing modern life.

I don’t get married to a lower-caste Hindu and hence save my family’s honour.

I don’t get married to a Muslim and hence save the subcontinent from Islamic domination.

I elect murderers as my representatives in the parliament, so they can apply their vocation to all of humanity.

I honour my prejudiced norms, values, and society.

I discriminate when I see a benefit, and shout “discrimination!” when I don’t.

I don’t pay my taxes and elicit taxpayers’ money into my holey pockets.

I solicit payments in cash (or kind) to provide you your rightful possessions.

I work hard and with honesty, but seemingly never hard or honest enough.

I let boys toil in unyielding labour.

I let girls soil in untimely labour.

I see my children born and die of diseases whose names I can’t pronounce, but they easily denounce.

I despair in disparity.

I thrive on inequality.

I rule through dysfunctionality.

I wash my sins at the temple, so I can sleep guiltless at night.

I wash my shins at the tubewell, removing blood off my sight.

I like playing the blame game when farmers commit suicide, tribals lose their homes, and children die in hospitals.

I make other people’s misery my source of consolation.

I indulge in mourning over buildings and the people they housed, “ill-fated to nature’s fury” of floods and earthquakes.

I support nepotism, I detest reservations.

I create fake certificates of birth, caste, income, marriage, and death.

I turn blind to the legless at the pedestrian crossing.

I relish meddling in matters next-door.

I applaud when misery befalls our neighbour.

I like forcing others to speak the same language and follow the same faith as me.

I am tolerant of misbehaviour, resistant to coexistence.

I abuse the domesticated and the marginalised.

I choose my words carefully, to woo and to please as they please.

I speak of secular diversity, and partake in divide-and-conquer.

I ad-lib the national anthem (and force others to, too) without thinking about bharat’s bhagya.

I savour the pretense of being unoppressed in a country of the oppressed.

I feel agitated and uptight when someone criticises my country, without comprehending why and what for.

I feel agitated and erudite when I criticise my country, then go for a relaxing holiday abroad.

I complain about left-wing and right-wing extremism over tea and biscuits.

I do social work because it adds brownie points to my resume.

I am too scared to be a voice of or for a minority, and so I chant with the majority around me.

At least I care for the country I live in, if not for the people within.

At least I care for what people think of me, if not for what I’d think of myself.

I am a multitude who stands mutilated.

An independent Indian, who always signs off,

With Jai Hind.