Respected Prime Minister Modi ji,
You do not know me, and how could you? I am a simple senior citizen in a country with a population of 1.42 billion. Yes, if we were to meet face-to-face—although I don’t fix punctures—you might still recognise me by my clothes. And even if I did fix punctures, what’s shameful about that? Repairing punctures is far more honourable than rioting, stealing, grabbing land, committing contract killings, murdering in the name of cow protection, spreading hate, lying, evading taxes, hoarding, taking bribes, committing fraud, defrauding banks, stealing funeral shrouds, selling fake medicine, brandishing naked swords, buying votes with dirty money, being aggressively boastful, misleading innocent people, being insensitive, being a friend to the rich and an exploiter of the poor—among many other such things.
Your Labels Don’t Define Me
I must also say, even though I have only two children, you may still put me in the category of those who father many or steal mangalsutras.
You may call me a termite, a pup, or a germ—anything you like—but none of these insults and insinuations can even slightly lessen my love, dedication or patriotism toward my motherland.
A Legacy of Harmony
This is because I am the son of a Gandhian father—someone who lived Gandhian values in thought, conduct, and dress. My father was a teacher in a school where he was the only Muslim among the staff. Yet, the affection and harmony we received could only have existed in the India of that time—a time when, according to some, being born in India was considered a matter of shame.
Right to Dissent
Let me be clear: I have disagreed with many of your policies, and our Constitution gives me that right. The same Constitution that raised you from a tea seller to the highest seat in the world’s largest democracy. I suffered no personal loss due to demonetisation—because I didn’t even have white money, let alone black. And even if I had black money, it wouldn’t have mattered, because the clout of those with black money remained intact—or rather, increased—after demonetisation.
Pandemic and Paradoxes
During the COVID-19 pandemic, I saw people dying due to lack of oxygen and their bodies rotting in the Ganges. Yet I felt proud when you campaigned in the U.S. presidential election. Never mind that the candidate you supported lost. But truthfully, I was deeply disappointed—even frustrated—when you visited uninvited the home of someone whom I, and perhaps even many of your supporters, view as the master of Ajmal Kasab.
The Visit and the Biryani
Not only did you go uninvited, but you also ate cake there. Some allege you even ate biryani. I don’t believe that—how could someone who refuses to wear a cap eat biryani? And anyway, a vegetarian biryani isn’t something that would be served in Nawaz Sharif’s house. You even gifted a sari to the mother of the Prime Minister of our enemy nation. Courtesies are one thing, but such kindness toward an enemy is hard to digest.
A Question of Priorities
You distributed saris last Eid too. But the difference in quality between the two saris is well known. There are many other issues I could raise, but this is not the right time to speak of electoral bonds, the PM Cares Fund, etc. This is also not the right time to speak of people like Anurag Thakur, Kapil Mishra, Bidhuri, Giriraj Singh, Shuvendu Adhikari, and Kangana Ranaut—let them “stew in their own juice.”
Time to Act, Not Just Reflect
Now let me come straight to the real issue. Today, every citizen of this country—including those who disagree with your domestic policies or even question your intentions—stand firmly with you like a rock when it comes to national security. They are all looking to you with the hope that you will mete out such punishment that the enemy could never have imagined. In fact, people like me want the kind of punishment for our enemies that no one in history has ever received—and never will.
Responsibility Over Caution
I understand the position you hold carries immense responsibility. Some self-declared experts may advise caution/restraint and calculate that the available options are costly or risky. But you know better than anyone else that national security is not a business deal to be assessed in terms of profit or loss. We may have to pay a heavy price to destroy our enemy—but no price is greater than national honour. If we were to sacrifice one hand to cut off the enemy’s head, we should not hesitate. Science today can give me an artificial arm stronger than a real one—but no science can return a severed head.
The Moment Demands the Heart
There’s an Urdu couplet (I’m sure, unlike some in your party, you have no allergy towards Urdu, the 100% native language born and nurtured on Indian soil) that means: the mind must guard the heart, but in rare moments, one must follow the heart, not the mind. This is one such moment.
A Nation United in Pain
I’m certain that like every other Indian, your heart must be writhing in pain and anguish. Modi ji, wipe out Pakistan’s existence. The entire nation is with you and ready to make every sacrifice. It is for you to decide the time and means. But the country’s patience is running thin—so even the delay of one hour beyond what’s absolutely necessary is too much.
If I Crossed a Line…
If, swayed by emotion, I have said something unpleasant—my indiscretion may kindly be overlooked. After all, we only complain to someone whom we consider our very own.
Yours,
Weaponless soldier
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