15 August 2008, the date arrives like every year. A gap of breadth for we, the busy bees have been waiting for. "Finally", heave a sigh of relief. "C'mon, its fine it's the I-Day, let's go for a movie, why waste this morning going in for the flag hoisting at college and yawn at the never ending din of the chief guest blaring in the mike. "These are the words my friend uttered. It might sound the usual "crap", but then I can't refrain myself from doing the "usual". Behold!
India emerged out of the long night of colonialism only to be feted in blood and hate. Independent India was the culmination of a thousand rebellions, individual and collective. It wasn't only men, but women, polite and respectful 13 year old girls- who stormed the British and freed their nation from the deadly shackles of the Raj. Twelve year old Vijay Chauhan, was jailed for shouting "Angrezo Bharat chhodo" , in Lahore's Anarkali Bazaar. Seventy eight today, she needs a stick, yet her spirits remain unbeaten. Sample this, nationalist leader Aruna Asaf Ali, distributing pamphlets and stirring up the spirits past curfew times, one day an officer offered her to drop her home. Shoving the papers under her dress, she sat stiff in his jeep, courageous and directed him a few blocks before her home. But this remains a Bollywood masala flick for us. And countless who knew no identity of their own, their family, but that of a 'Hindustani'. Gruesome torture, rapes and genocide nothing deterred them. They died so that we could live like we do today. For many, the stories are still untold but the end, of liberation, is one they are proud of. And we are! Are we? Then why did my friend yawn and spend half the day in bed? And many seconded him? Then why so many of my younger siblings are clueless when they are quizzed on our actual Heroes? And they give various faint replies when asked to name the Father of the Nation. "Is it Feroz Gandhi?" "No, no some Mohan Gandhi", butts in another. It's a pity; and we call ourselves proud Indians.
61 years of independence, and we are still torn between caste, creed, language, religion and sex. My heart bleeds when I see such callousness and bloodshed all around me, in the name of the religion. It's time we raise above all such 'Mandir-Masjid' issues friends. It's disgusting that our leaders patronize these few anti social elements of the society (running only for money), and encourage such mayhem just for a 'chair'! If one Muslim demolished the Ram Mandir, you'll murder his sons. If one Hindu brought down the Babri Masjid, you'll kill all Hindus and his posterity. If one Sikh assassinated the former Prime Minister, you'll go on a life taking spree, and wage a war against all Sikhs and his children; and children of all, who weren't even born in '92, and yes definitely not centuries ago when Babur ruled. Friends, we need to walk hand in hand to the future. Pump out the hostility, if it's flowing in your blood. Forget the bloodshed and the filthy past. It's done and gone. We rather have a Ram-Rahim Hospital or public school at Ayodhya instead of a Mandir or a Masjid.
61 years, and still we could not cure ourselves of the dreaded disease of corruption. Rather our ancestors pass on this legacy, and they call it "dunyadaari". We never throw paper bits in Singapore. We never speed beyond 110 mph in Washington and then bribe the cop. We dare not buy an employee of the telephone exchange at £10 a month in London to see to it that our STD calls are billed to someone else. Why don't you spit paan on the streets of Tokyo? Why don't you fake certificates in Boston? And chuck empty coconut shells nowhere but the bins on the beaches of Australia? Then why don't you do the same here? Why do you leave Her neglected ? Abuse your country, you abuse yourself. The parasitic "corruption" is hogging India fast. Bribing cops or officials, forging birth-certificates for admissions and stealing electricity for homes fitted with ACs in each room is the corruption of common man. Forget that of the higher strata.
61 years and we've definitely modernized, as they say. Westernization is a big "Halla" here in India. With the craze of all imported and foreign and our ethnic souls, why not gel them? Apparently westernization pops up a picture of all glitz and glimmer. That's technological enhancement and progress. The West developed fast and first. One day we all, the developing ones will climb up that zenith, which definitely doesn't mean westernization. But aping them can be detrimental. We hanker for an imported leather purse of GUCCI, with a tiny tag "made in India". They treat us with mouth watering pizzas and burgers with an aloo tikki called a Mc Maharaja. And our samosas and chaats are paying the price for this. The saree is giving way to the denim n lesser fabric, while our immaculate dhotis are a rare sight now, reserved just for ceremonies and the 'Sansad'. I don't oppose the shirt 'n' jeans styling, but urge not to forget our fabric, thread, ceremonies 'n' culture. We surely need the 17hrs a day, 5 days a week working sincerity of the west here. We need to grab the best of the West in our hands and be root our feet in the valued and ethically ethnic Hindustan.
We are growing today, and heading ahead at a commendable pace when the world stands and glares at India. And that lies on us, the youth to accelerate its march. The Independence Day or the Republic Day doesn't just mean to hold up the plastic tricolor and more-over let them be strewn on the ground at the end of the day. I reckon this day as just a day of realization. A halt in our express working schedules, to look back and acknowledge the innumerable freedom fighters and their sacrifices, a day to realize and analyze what we have done to keep up the spirits of free India. As the "aam aadmi", we can contribute our small bits to the nation. Let me make it in simple steps.
Abstain from bribery. Most applicable at traffic signals, forgery of certificates.
Respect and follow the rules and the system, at least the ones on the road and rail.
Use any 3 Indian makes from the list of countless home commodities such as soaps, shampoos, hair oils, moisturizers, tooth pastes, garments, mobile connection, TV sets, automobiles, electronics, pens, Tea leaves, canned food etc.
Most importantly for us engineers/doctors/financers/business managers, to aim to engineer a fabulous future not only for ourselves, but also for the country.
Above all, stand up for the country and bear not a sound that violates the honour and integrity of India.
India is space to include the pilgrim and the politician, the poet and the rebel, ahimsa and nuclear might. India is 3000 years old and in the 21st century. India is express way with zooming traffic, and trudging camels, elephants, horses and bullock carts. India is a sadhu with a cell phone, a pundit on a Honda Karizma, a catholic Father in an Indica. India is a 5 star Taj and numerous "thellas" for 'gol gappas'. India is MTV playing Britney Spears for us and our grandmothers counting the beads of their mala in the same room. India – the largest democracy and a tattered poster of a forgotten 'neta'' stuck on an electric pole. India is where neighbours are strangers and there is a never-ending "Ram Ram" to every second passerby on the 'gully' to the bazaar. India is kingfisher liquor in crystals and the coveted piping hot 'chai'' in the earthen bowls. India is a 10 rupee note and 15 languages approving its worth. India is Nehru's "tryst with Destiny" and Hussain's objectionable canvass. India is A. R. Rehman's Bombay, and Himesh's 'suroor' and a 'Kajra re'. India is Madhubala, Nargis, Rekha and Madhuri Dixit and Kajol and zero-ing on Kareena. India is Guru Dutt, Dilip Kumar singing in 'Naya Daur' and SRK leading the women's hockey team to victory and Big B and the two storey high traffic stopping Bollywood poster in London. India is the land of splendor and rags, of dreams and romance. India is the country of hundred tongues, of thousand religions, over two thousand Gods and some billion different Indians.
Jai Hind!!
Phew!! Done!! "Hey I hope you've got up by now. Oh! Your still in bed?"
a curry of thoughts, musings and rants in a pickle jar
