“India is not a nation, nor a country. It is a subcontinent of nationalities.”― Muhammad Ali Jinnah
It’s seventy-five years since India’s independence. During this time, India has witnessed splendour, poverty, pandemics, epidemics, droughts, floods, wars, peace, joy, grief, and many more. A 139-crore Indians will raise the Azadi Ka Amrit Mahotsav flag for three days this year to mark 75 years of independence. Every street, every road, every shop, every vehicle, every house, and every heart will unfurl the Indian flag and sing the national anthem with great pride for their motherland.
It reminds me of the days when the recent pandemic brought us closer, we had lit lamps to show our fraternity and rang the bells at home in sovereignty, as loud as we could and prayed that COVID 19 would end. There is nothing that happens quickly. COVID 19 stayed with us for two whole years when it mutated and propagated. Patriotism has been a strong value for Indians. It symbolises equality, loyalty and undying love for the country and fellow beings. But then my memories hurl me back to yesterday evening…a Friday evening…
The market square was bustling with activities. It was a special long weekend with the Independence day celebrations on. The intermittent spells of rain had gathered to form puddles where the little boy sat with tiny flags for sale. A few of his friends and siblings, not more than eight years old, kept running toward vehicles whenever the traffic slowed down. They tapped the closed windows of the cars showing their flags in anticipation of a kind buyer. They tried to persuade pedestrians, begging them to buy a flag for their children. Nothing seemed to deter their spirits.
A little away, there was a teenager who had the world map in large rolls. He called out to people to buy one for their kids.
He shouted, ‘please buy one map, your child will appreciate it.
The bystander jerked him saying, ‘Who buys these maps nowadays, everything is available on the internet.
The teenager moved on, and people bought a few flags. He kept looking around but was planning his strategy to influence people to buy his wares.
When we walked on further we found an old lady sitting amidst the cars parked under the flyover. We walked back to observe that it was her dwelling place. She sat on bedding, a mattress donated by some kind person. Her legs were spread out but her back did not have a rest. She had pulled her hair into a neat bun and wore a soft cotton saree. The street lights made her scars and wrinkles prominent but her smile was attractive. A plastic toy flag lay on her right. She was humming as she poured out some beetle nut in her palms. She kept gazing and feeling it as she hummed. We called out to give her some money. She did not look up. We went closer. She looked up and smiled and took the money.
She gestured showing her right and left ears saying, ‘I cannot hear. She folded her palms and said loudly ‘Dhyanayawaad’ (Thanks)
A measly-looking lady passed by the place. Her face was dark and scarred with the adversities of life. She had a pigeon chest with hardly any flesh on her body. She wore a brown-coloured short gown and had no expressions on her face. She walked onto the pavement where she had a stall with a few wares for children. She sat there quietly. It was as if she meant, buy the wares if you feel like it.
A group of young boys and girls laughed aloud as they walked unaware of these happenings. They were happy as it was a weekend. They ate with fervour at the street side stalls and spoke aloud.
The little boys who were begging dashed to these youngsters. They held her stomach and gestured saying they were hungry. One of them was kind-hearted. He ordered a few snacks for the kids. The kids ran and sat on the chairs opposite a gentleman who was eating there. The man was surprised but continued eating. The boys felt happy but the stall owner called them out and said,’ It is a parcel of food for you, not a seat to dine. Please take this and go somewhere else quickly.
The boys picked up the parcel and walked away. They wanted a place to sit undisturbed but finding one was difficult. They walked a little ahead where they were welcomed by the old lady amongst the car parking. There is no explanation as to how all these people survived the pandemic.
The square where these happenings were going on suddenly echoed with fervour and patriotism when there appeared a crowd of people of varied ages chanting, ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai, Vande Matram(glory to mother India’). India is considered a motherland to invoke the feeling of love, power, generosity and righteousness.
The activities in the square came to a halt. People looked on as the volunteers walked on to them. They had tricoloured cardboard boxes in their hands. They distributed it free of cost saying, ‘A flag for every home from our municipal Corporator, Har Ghar Tiranga’. They gave one box each to the poor boys, the youngsters, the measly lady, the old lady under the flyover, the shopkeepers, the little children, the old men and to everyone. Everyone smiled in unison, and slowly lifted the cover of the box to find a large folded flag of India. After 75 years, every Indian has the privilege to unfurl the flag in their homes and niches.
The chants grew louder and the smiles broader for the flag reigns in us supremacy no matter where we are.
“and when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.”― Ruskin Bond,
Comments
Post a Comment