While, I was scrolling through the heritage city of Bombay yesterday. I was stunned by the beauty of the place as I always do, but unlike other times the reason for my bewilderment were not the old buildings carrying the legacy of Victorian art and culture but our very own Tiranga. The Tiranga that was shining through each one of them, trying hard to get over its label as a gift of the British era to the Pride of India, the India that had always been there but never noticed.
The roads surrounding the heritage city had never looked so vibrant to me, not even during the peak office hours that we like to call it. The roads were flooded with people of all ages, there were kids who were proudly sitting on the shoulders of their father and smiling with pride. Their one hand warmly tugged around the left shoulder of their father, the one closer to the heart and the other one proudly holding the Tiranga that was waving merrily in its own rhythm. And then there were elderly, who were walking briskly while holding the hands of their son/daughter, their heads weakening the barrier of old age and the eyes that had become frail were replenishing their lost charm through the glitters of Tiranga that was omnipresent. Finally, there was a fleet of cars that were racing through the roads. The drivers seated inside them were finding it hard to concentrate as their eyes kept on meandering to get the look of the Tiranga that was now fuelling the activity inside the car. The love for their nation united them all, making the place look even more beautiful to the eyes.
As I walked further there was a light show going on at one of the corners, while “Saare Jahan se acha’’ was being played subtly in the background. People were spread all around the place and so I chose a quiet corner for myself that provided me with an optimal blend to enjoy the show. As the show proceeded, the clippage from India’s struggle to Independence started to show up. The spark in the eyes of the freedom fighters were distinctly visible even though the screen did not allow to switch the video quality to 1080p, and it started to shimmer even more as our heroes kept on facing the atrocities being poured onto them by the Britishers while keeping their head high and faces calm. It felt as if their love for the motherland was touching bases with the Mangalyaan while breaching the anomalies of space and time. In the background, the voice of Lata ji was no less than a bitter sweet symphony, it felt like the sweetness of her voice was empowering our heroes to shred off the layers of the Britishers, one at a time.
As the show proceeded, more and more people joined in and while it ended I found myself surrounded by an ocean of people, belonging from all caste, religion, sex but in that moment I had better recognize them as Indian, united through one common thread of patriotism knitted closely by the little dash of water that was sparkling through the eyes. As, I was trying to absorb whatever I could, the voice of Lata Ji came into my head and amidst all the hustle and bustle all I could hear was:
मज़हब नहीं सिखाता आपस में बैर रखना
हिन्दी हैं हम वतन है हिन्दोस्ताँ हमारा
It is the 75th year of our Independence or as our Government has marketed it as “Azaadi ka Amrit Mahotsav”, and that I feel definitely calls for all the attention and celebration.
I am sure people who had come out or just put in a flag in their own house, would have felt a deep sense of patriotism or belonging for their nation, even if for a very small time. But what is wrong in it, in the fast moving world where we live in where everything is so ephemeral, a moment dedicated to celebrating one’s love for the country, isn't it a big achievement in itself?
As I finally started to walk off towards my home, a small kid crossed me and while smiling jubilantly at me exulted “Bharat Mata ki”, to which I reciprocated with a loud “Jai”. Her mother was standing right there, her entire body was now overflowing with joy after witnessing such enthusiasm in her daughter. Later, her mother exclaimed to me that she is so happy today that whoever is going past her, she is greeting them with a “Bharat Mata ki Jai”. And as I parted ways from her, I shouted a loud “Bharat Mata ki Jai” in my own head.
HAPPY 75th INDEPENDENCE DAY FELLAS!!