MUSLIMS ARE NOT REAL PEOPLE
after the trending of #StopIslam in twitter
never knew that my religion was a disadvantage.
my mouth, an imprint of fifteen years spent at morning lebaran feasts
forehead a mountain carved out from thousands of sujuds and
palms worn out from silahturahmis. choking on soda
after thirty moon-roundabouts of hunger.
alright, i know
muslims are bad people. with so many heads decapitated
our allahu akbar roaring as red splits on dusty grounds, verses of The Big A
telling us to fight in Their way, because it is our duty, our jihad
how can normal muslims exist, right?
muslims who are out here watching their life slip through their fingers, muslims
with a stack of unread books, ballpoint ink-stained fingers, paint smeared on cheeks
muslims who are only themselves with a can of beer and twelve stubs of cigarettes down
whose prayer mats thrown to the back of their closet; muslims that only remember al-fatihah
and only that, never doing salat for two months because they can never bother,
mouth rotten with the duas they never say
muslims, muslims like humans,
don't exist in your head, i think.
YOU SAY: So if that's the case, where is all the Muslim outcry?
I SAY: WE ARE LOUD, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, my voice is hoarse and my throat is dry and i feel like i'm guzzling down acid repeating this like a broken record player saying, saying that we the majority are sorry for our hideous minority, we're sorry, we're sorry, why does this feel so repetitive all of a sudden i am not supposed to apologize for something i didn't do i'm sorry i'm sorry–
but then, the reality is here: that i get to log out of this all
and this flesh made out of blood and clay is real.
in another land i am killed.
Madina is a fifteen year-old girl that lives in a country that doesn’t automatically exist inside your head. Spends her time crying over the currency rates of rupiah to US dollars and angrily staring at the prices of books in her OpenTrolley want list. She is @falsecatch on Twitter.