When Music Becomes a Border: Why Indian Hip Hop Needs More Empathy, Not Division
Before borders, before labels: songs like “Prashna Chinha” reminded us that hip hop’s truest power lies in questioning, not dividing
Lately, I’ve seen a few Indian rappers say we shouldn’t listen to Pakistani artists.
One even went live on Instagram — and when a fan commented “Love from Pakistan,” he replied: “F**k Pakistan.”
A few days later, news broke of Shiv Sena supporters smashing TVs in Mumbai bars due to the India Pakistan cricket match.
That’s when we at Desi Renaissance started thinking — when did art, something born to unite, start reflecting the same anger that divides us?
When Art Turns Into Territory
It’s one thing when random people online react with outrage: herd mentality is nothing new.
But when artists, who once preached creative freedom and collaboration, start taking nationalistic turns, it reveals something deeper: fear disguised as pride.
That fear doesn’t come from nowhere, it’s taught. When pride turns into propaganda, even artists start mistaking patriotism for purity. And that’s dangerous, because art has never belonged to one flag.
Art should challenge perspectives, not reinforce borders.
Hip hop was never meant to be territorial; it was born from struggle, connection, and shared humanity. From the Bronx to Bombay, its strength has always come from empathy — from feeling someone else’s truth and turning it into rhythm.
And when that empathy gets replaced by anger, we lose what made hip hop revolutionary in the first place.
The Role of Artists in Times Like These
Artists aren’t just entertainers — they’re mirrors of their generation. When they speak, people listen. That’s why their words carry weight, and why it’s disheartening when those voices start echoing division.
Having a platform means choosing perspective over reaction. It means realizing that your words don’t just move fans; they shape values.
And in 2025, when the internet can amplify both empathy and hate within seconds, what you say as an artist matters more than ever.
A Personal Reflection
When I first moved to New Zealand, one of my flatmates was Pakistani. We bonded over music, food, and late-night conversations about home.
The only real difference between us was the language — his Urdu, soft and poetic. That’s when it hit me: the idea that we’re supposed to be divided was absurd.
At the end of the day, it was just two South Asians sharing stories, playlists, and laughter.
That experience taught me something simple — empathy is always louder than hate.
So yes, debate governments. Question policies. But don’t lose sight of the people behind the politics. Stop hating entire countries or communities because of a few bad apples. At the end of the day, no nation — and no group of people — is perfect.
Art was never meant to divide us; it was meant to remind us of our shared humanity. At Desi Renaissance, we’ll always stand for that.
Because if there’s one thing hip hop has taught us, it’s this:
The moment we start defining art by geography, we stop listening to what it’s truly saying.








