In this environment of “Must Politics Be War?”, with over-normalised, hyper-real media images, mostly automated, augmented and simulated by trolls with bondage gear and swastika symbols, particularistic forms of identity politics also mask imperial dreams, hide necrophiliac political fantasies and justify ethnic cleansing of various sorts, including dividing people into vegetarian and non-vegetarian camps. Blaming both right-wingers and left-wingers for letting us descend into the dystopian politics of recognition that often degenerates into a decaffeinated politics of isolation, anger, and grievance, political theorist Francis Fukuyama has recently warned against the dangers of identity becoming a nihilistic case of cynical narcissism or self-love for self-preservation and survival. Curiously, Fukuyama, known for his neo-conservative past and Straussian philosophical moorings, celebrates India as the most luminous cradle of diversity of human life. No wonder, Babasaheb Ambedkar, fully supportive of the civilisational diversity of India, had submitted a proposal before the Constituent Assembly of India for making India the ‘United States of India’ to underline the importance of what he called maitri or fellowship towards all forms of identities—ethnic, cultural or regional. Despite its limitations and challenges, identity politics, in short, has become the locus of expression, experimentation and exploration—particularly for those who cannot yet fully inhabit themselves for fear of discrimination, or punishment in the real or virtual world. Therefore, it is better to get used to the fact that all politics is identity politics, even if it morphs into wokeism until the universal politics of humanity and solidarity is rebooted against all forms of majority oppressions. As a poet I can’t help but conclude with the haunting words of Agha Shahid Ali. “And I, Shahid, only am escaped to tell thee—God sobs in my arms. Call me Ishmael tonight!”