Poet : Hussain Haidry
Watch on Youtube a rendition of the same in the original Hindustani.
Sadak pe cigarrete peete waqt
joh azaan sunaee di mujhko
Toh yaad aaya ki waqt hai kya
Aur yeh baat zehan mein aayi
Ki main kaisa mussalmaan hoon bhai?
Main shia hoon ya sunni hoon
Main khoja hoon ya bohri hoon
Main gaon se hoon yah shehri hoon
Main baaghi hoon yah sufi hoon
Main quomi hoon yah dhongi hoon
Main kaisa mussalmaan hoon bhai.
Main sajda karnewaala hoon
Ya jhatka khanewaala hoon
Main topi pehanke phirta hoon
Ya daadhi udaake ke rehta hoon
Main aayat kaul se padhta hoon
Ya filmi gaane ramta hoon
Main allah-allah karta hoon
Ya sheikhon se ladd padta hoon
Main kaisa mussalmaa hoon bhai?
Main Hindustani mussalmaan hoon.
Deccan se hoon, Up se hoon
Bhopal se hoon,
bengal se hoon,gujarat se hoon
Har oonchi-neechi jaat se hoon
Main hi hoon julaaha mochi bhi
Main daaktar bhi hoon, darji bhi.
Mujh mein Geeta ka saar bhi hai
Ek Urdu ka akhbaar bhi hai.
Mera ek mahina Ramzaan bhi hai
Maine kiya Ganga ka snaan bhi hai.
Apne hi taur se jeeta hoon
Ek doh cigarette bhi peeta hoon
Koi neta nas nas mein nahi
Koi party ke bas mein nahin
Main Hindustaani mussalmaan hoon.
Khooni darwaaja mujh mein hai
Ek bhool-bhulaiyya mujh mein hai
Main babri ja ek gumbad hoon
Main shehar ke beech ek sarhad hoon
Jhuggiyon mein palti gurbat main
Madrasson mein palti cheechat Main
Dangon mein bhadakta shola main
Kurte pe khoon ka dhabba main
Main Hindustani mussalmaan hoon.
Mandir ki chaukhat meri hai
Mashid ke kible mere hain
Gurdwaare ka darbaar mera
Yeshughar ke girje mere hain
Sau mein se chaudaah hoon lekin
Chaudaahi kam nahin padhte
Main poore sau mein basta hoon
Poore sau mujhmein baste hain
Mujhe ek nazar se dekh na tu
Mere ek nahin sau chehre hain
Sau rang ke hain kirdaar mere
Saukalam se likhi kahaani hoon
Main jitna mussalmaan hoon bhai
Main utna hindustaani hoon
Main Hindustaani mussalmaan hoon.
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On the street as I smoked a cigarette,
Heard the muezzin’s call for prayer,
It struck me the hour of the day,
Also a motherhood question pray,
What sort of a Muslim was I?
Am I a shia or a sunni?
Am I a khoja or a bohra?
Am I from the village or the city?
Am I a rebel or a sufi?
Am I a commoner or an impersonator?
I am a Muslim of what sort?
Am I one to offer devotion?
Or one to suffer dissonance?
Do I wear the skull cap and roam?
Or make merry with my beard shorn?
Do I read hymns from the Koran?
Or sing tunes of Hindi film songs?
Do I immerse myself in Allah’s name?
Or argue with the sheikhs on a whim?
I am a Muslim of what sort?
I’m a Muslim the Indian kind.
I am from the Deccan and from U.P
I am from Bhopal and from M.P
From Bengal and Gujarat,
Higher and lower class too,
I am a sweeper and cobbler,
I am a doctor and weaver,
I carry in me the Gita’s teachings,
An Urdu newspaper &; its preachings,
Set aside for me the month of Ramzaan
Dipped in the Ganges, as well for my sins,
I live by my rules,
Smoke a cigarette or two,
No politics in my blood stream
No party has control over me,
I’m a Muslim, the Indian kind!
Inside me is a blood-soaked door,
Inside of me is a maze dour
I am the minaret of the Babri,
I am the border inside a city,
In hutments I am the diffidence
In seminaries I am the teaching
In riots I am the flickering flame
The blot of red on a shirt stained
I’m a Muslim, the Indian kind!
The quadrangle of the temple is mine,
The square of the mosque I enshrine,
The hall of the Gurdwara embraced,
The bells of the church resonate in me.
I am only 14 out of a 100 yet,
14 though is not one bit less,
I make the 100 all complete,
I carry the 100 within me,
Don’t you look at me singularly,
For I take 100 faces and shapes,
100 colorful characters do I make,
Am a story scripted by 100 pens,
As much a Muslim am I,
The same much an Indian am I,
I’m a Muslim, the Indian kind!
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