Azadi?

Indian or American?

Sometimes, I imagine a life

Where I wasn’t born in the great America

Instead of starting fresh

My family just decided to stay

and wait for a better day

Would I have been in awe of Mumbai as I am of New York?

Would I have gone to college?

Or been married off to the first man who looked my way?

Would I have been more religious?

Or still question everyone and everything?

Would my English have been accented instead of my Hindi?

Would I have been close to the community?

focusing on collective success instead of individual pursuit?

In America, we are told to change.

But in India, we can be.

In India, people would have known that I am Muslim that second I mention my name. Perhaps even before that.

In the States, my name is a challenge and I am given stares every time I eat a steak.

I can’t imagine living in a place where the adhan would be commonplace like how church bells are in the States

no one would break down in fear

or mock me for smiling about prayer

but such a fantasy

Is a false sense of belonging

In India, Muslims are continuously segregated away

whether it’s by choice or fear we will never know

In America, Muslims get to live wherever they please

As long as they can find the means

Instead of hearing “go back to where you came from”

I would hear “move to Pakistan if you don’t like Hindustan”

maybe it all would have been the same

maybe it wouldn’t have

hate is hate

In whatever form

In India, is it azadi to practice openly but face greater danger?

In America, is it freedom to practice discreetly but encounter less danger?

Maybe I would have been happier in India

Or perhaps blissfully unaware

I guess I’ll never know

And this is the problem of living too close

to a what-if