Someone narrated a "joke" the other day- An Icelander came a-visiting India and spent a month travelling north to south, east to west.. on the day he was leaving, some reporters in the departure lounge asked him, "So, wha do you think of Indians and their hospitality?" The Icelander replied,"But I didn't meet any Indians!" ..... "In Gujarat, I met Gujaratis, in Maharashtra I met Marathi Manoos, In Punjab, Punjabis... In Kashmir, Kashmiris... and in Soth India, I was very confused since there wasnt a single Indian anywhere! And to confuse me further, there were aliens living amidst the Madrasis, Punjabis, Gujaratis, etc. They were tribes with strange names -- Muslims, Buddhists, Parsis, Hindus, Christians..."
The "joke" was truly on US- The People of this great land! 63 years of independence...and how we have twisted and defiled its very meaning into an ugly and scarred face of Incredible India!
Me and my family have always been the most ardent and vociferous secular citizens in all of our world. The slingshots of the aam aadmi in the small town of Uttar Pradesh I live in, is taking its toll on my "secularity"! And that upsets me tremendously! I run a school, and have a 60/40 ratio of Hindu/Muslim kids. Today is a PTM, and we have a rule that the staff wears formal sarees on all PTMs. My muslim teachers came up with yet another slingshot ... that it is forbidden in Islam to don sarees during the month of Ramzan!! Sarees??? Are clothes really diverse in the name of religion?? So does that mean Hindus dont wear salvaar-kameez on Diwali?? How tragic it is, to divide ourselves more and more with every passing year of being free citizens of a free nation? Did the founders of Islam / Hinduism?Christianity all those centuries ago, lay down the dress code of their followers for all eternity?
A muslim maid-servant I have, sits in my room cutting vegetables and listening to her favourite soap on TV, but wont look at it, since watching TV is forbidden in the month of Ramzan. Did the founders of Islam envisage the creation on TV??? Who sets these rules and unleashes them on society? Why is society so unsure of itself?
Why have we reached this sordid state? Why have we not evolved as a People? Why do we glorify our faith? Why do we demean the others faith? WHY are we not ONE PEOPLE even now? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?
Saturday 28 August 2010
Friday 27 August 2010
The Forsaken Sex
The Forsaken Sex
India- the Land of fakirs, rope tricks, snake charmers and elephants So decree the millions of tourists who throng the bumpy streets, avidly searching for the unusual and the alien. We, the citizens of this magical land, are pretty much used to all these “delights”! But there are some parts of our land and its culture, that even we shun, abhor and fear.
Humans have, since their inception, or “creation” as the holy-minded would phrase it – always had little faith in themselves. They have worshiped and exalted all they did not understand or feared- be it fire, water, lightening, the sun, moon or stars. They have converted these into deities to be worshipped and appeased. In our diverse land, there exists a sect that includes itself into the “misunderstood, feared, shunned yet glamorized”.
Their face is their fortune. Their shrill voices, powder-caked, brightly rouged cheeks, tinkling anklets and kajal-lined eyes, herald the entry of a grotesque parody of womanhood into your street or your home. The male voices shouting expletives, palms meeting outwards in a trademark clap, the threatening lifting of gaudy sarees, conning the vulnerable passer-by for readily given alms– these are the Eunuchs, Kinnars or hijras.
The word “Eunuch” is derived from the Greek eune (bed) and ekhein (to keep) or “keeper of the bed”. They have been in glorified existence since about the 9th Century BC. These castrated men with the brains of women and the brawn of men, were the ideal guardians of the royal harems. The concubines and queens of the emperors were “safe” with them. Their practice began in China, in the Assyrian Empire, in the courts of the Egyptian Pharaohs and in Vietnam. It is said, that the justification for their employment as high-ranking civil servants was that , since they were incapable of procreation and marriage, they would not be tempted to seize power and begin a new dynasty, the common danger of that era.
Nobody knows whether all of these “third sex” people were born without male organs, or voluntarily converted by self-castration. Poor families often converted one of their sons into a eunuch, to get him into the royal palaces and ensure bread and butter for him and his whole family. Eunuch-hood was prevalent worldwide across the centuries and spanned various cultures, but has survived only in India.
The ancient Indian Kama Sutra refers to a people of the “third sex” (triteeya prakrati), who can dress either as males or females and perform fellatio on men. Today, eunuchs in India live on the margins of society, face discrimination and ridicule, and yet find an unwilling place in the rituals practiced across the country. The birth of a child, marriage in the family, inauguration of a new shop, business, home, are all incomplete without the”blessings” of the hijra. They come in groups, invited or uninvited, dressed in traditional shiny sarees or salvaar-kameez, with gaudy make-up, and dance, sing and gyrate to popular filmy numbers, until appeased by cash and gifts by the family. The curse of the unappeased hijra is feared by people. The ceremony is supposed to bring good luck to the family.
The hijras in India exist within a complex social system unique to their community. The “operation” of castration is usually performed outdoors with pomp and show. The head of each group of hijras is called the “Guru”. The Guru removes the unwanted appendages and various methods are in practice in India. A common method begins by keeping the “victim” in isolation for a few weeks, and feeding him opium with milk, to dull his senses. Then while he is in a state of intoxication, an auspicious day is decreed by the Guru and the ritual operation is crudely performed. Thereafter, the Guru takes charge of teaching the new member the tricks of the trade. Their society is strictly hierarchical, and the eunuch's life is governed by the rules of his Guru. Hijras in India are broadly divided into seven “Houses”. Each house has a Nayak at its head, with several Gurus under each Nayak.
The high-point of the hijra communities across the country is the annual festival held on Chaitra Purnima at Koovagam, near Chennai, a place of pilgrimage for the hijras. This falls on 30th March this year. Legendarily, this unique ceremony is from the Mahabharata. One of Arjuna's sons, called Aravanan, volunteered to go as “suicide bomber” into the Kauravas camp , to gain tactical edge over them and win the epic war. The boy expressed a wish to marry and consummate his marriage in one night, and sacrifice his life thereafter. This posed a huge problem as no girl was willing to become a widow one day after her nuptials. So, Lord Krishna assumed the female form of “Mohini” and became the “bride” of Aravanan. This marriage and widowhood is glamorized and worshiped and celebrated with “gay”abandon at this festival every year. Competitions, fashion shows, singing, dancing and finding new mates after the widowhood is the trademark of this day. Huge crowds gather to thunderously applaud the ramp-gyrating “models”. Inside the temple, the atmosphere is apocalyptic, with the clang of a hundred bells, coconut-smashing, the incense from agarbattis and tying the sacred thread around the necks of the hijras – depicting the moment of their marriage to Aravanan.
This unique sect has lived, thrived and survived within the rigid, unfriendly fabric of the divided Indian society. They have earned their livelihood with peddling their legendary skills and also their bodies. It is estimated that there are about 1.2 million kinnars in India alone. Their “services” in the flesh-trade are cheaper, hence homosexuality is rampant. The landmark judgment by the Delhi High Court this year, repealing Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, thus decriminalizing consensual sex between “consenting adults”, which includes those of the same sex, suddenly transformed the lives of the kinnars. The judgment, though welcomed, caused some confusion among the semi-literate and illiterate kinnars of Meerut, who do not fully understand its implications, but think that it merely allows kinnar marriages. According to “Mumtaz”, a kinnar of the town, “Main khush hoon. Mujhe pata hai ki court-kutcheri ne hamare liye shaadi karna jayaz kar diya hai. Par ham to isse najayaz kabhi maante hi nahin the.”
Another kinnar of the town, under condition of anonymity, said, “ Hum padhe-likhe nahin hain Madam. Humare log akhbaar nahin padhate. Aur hamen interview dene ki mannayi hai. Mujhe pata hai ki bahut si hamari bahenen gussa hongi. Hamen log waise bhi darr ki nazron se dekhate hain.”
With humbly and respectfully folded hands, another of the group said, “Madam ji aap bura na maanen. Magar ham aapki koi madad nahin kar paayenge”.
On informing them about the group of kinnars who moved the High Court on January 20th, seeking their Right to Education, and the petition filed by Sonam Singh, a eunuch from Ajmer, seeking the constitution of a National Kinnar Ayog, a member of the Meerut Kinnar group said, “Hamein iske bare mai zyada nahin pata. Hamari roz-marrah ki zindagi main aisi cheezon ka koi fark nahin padne wala. Yahi hoga, ki kuch press-waaley aayenge, aur hamen pareshaan karenge.”
Another landmark judgment of the Madhya Pradesh bench has thrown the eunuchs of India into confusion. Its immediate effect was to declare that Ms. Kamla Jaan – a eunuch – did not qualify for mayor of Katni city, as the post was reserved for a “woman”. Ms. Jaan made headlines four years ago, when “she” became India's first eunuch to be elected as mayor of Katni. Subsequently, reel life depicted a similar victory in the famous film,“Welcome to Sajjanpur”.
So where does the threshold of the 21st century leave the desi kinnar? At the very same altar of the shabby patchwork of our legal, social and political scene. The “badnuma daag” that we ourselves created, fostered and kept alive. All we can do is to understand and accept this “third sex” as part of us, the citizens of free India, without judgment and condemnation. That, above all other measures in our close-minded society, will surely improve their lot.
Dr. Seema Tyagi
Meerut
Battle of Naalapani
The Battle of Kalunga / Nalapani :
Summer holidays, for all of my life, have included a few days reprieve in Dehradun. This year too, I found myself in the familiar, picturesque valley that is my hometown. The town is famous for litchis, basmati rice, tourists, premier schools, and has an old-world charm that is unmatched with anything found in the rest of the country. It is the cradle of soft words and courtesy, education and picnic spots.
Having run through the gamut of visits to well-known and lesser- known places to spend the day with picnic baskets, I was contemplating driving around to find some fresh new untouched place to visit, when a friend from Meerut suggested an idea, that I found fascinating. Mr. Anil Bhattacharji, an ardent enthusiast of history and archeology, apprised me of a date, an era, a race of people, a hill, a fort that no longer exists, and a slice of history that has since, completely captured my imagination and led me to drive out with my family, to attempt to locate this place. Little did I dream, that the story that unfolded, page by page, is unlike any other that I have ever had the good fortune to experience and re-live.
The problem lies in where to begin? The glamour, bloodshed, determination, bravery, valour, slavery and freedom- the story of the formation of new boundaries, a new clan of people, a war fought, espionage and deceit… the roles of the pivotal players in this game, which had hitherto been just names out of dusty history books, now were to suddenly jump out of them in front of my mind’s eye, and embroil me into the bloodied vortex of the lives of the fallen heroes of the past. Nestled within the lush green valley of Uttarakhand, lies the famous Kalunga hill, where this story takes root.
My friend told me of some six letters written in about 1812 – 1816 AD, from the fort atop Kalunga hill, which now lie in the Bir Library of Kathmandu, Nepal. Three of these describe the famous Battle of Nalapani , fought in the area between Sahastradhara and Kalunga hill, which was the stronghold of the Gorkha tribe and the western part of the kingdom of Nepal. The key players in this strategic landmark war were Balbhadra Thapa, the leader of the Gorkhas in Dehradun and General Robert Rollo Gillespie, an officer in His Majesty’s Army, in the battle between the Magars and the East India Company. The letters unfolded the story of a war that showed the world how dedicated, fierce, faithful and proud the people of this tribe were!
The Gorkha War (1814-1816) traced its inception to the capture of the valley of Dehradun by Nepal in 1803. The Gorkhas were descendents of General Amar Singh Thapa, who invaded the inhabited mountain fortresses of India and layed siege to them. The townships of Mussoorie, Lansdowne, Shimla, Pithoragarh, Nainital, Ranikhet,Almora, etc, allegedly came under the Gorkha rule. The Gorkhas ( Gau-rakhas)were earlier the peaceful inhabitants of these areas who led peaceful lives, tending to the cows amidst the hills. They were originally probably the inhabitants of Rajasthan, who allegedly fled to Nepal during the Muslim invasion of India in the 14th century. Some reports suggest that intermarriages between the people of Nepal and these Rajputs, produced the Gorkha race.
By 1767 AD, the three kingdoms of Kathmandu, steeped in internal rivalry, slowly began spreading their influence outside their territory. The British East India Company too had succeeded in consolidating their position in India. The valley kings requested Britain’s help to ward off the threats from the expanding Gorkha empire. It was in the interest of the British to quell the Gorkhas, who were fast proving themselves to be formidable opponents. The Gorkha prime minister, Bhimsen Thapa professed , “..our hills and fastness are formed by the hand of God, and are impregnable.” Their bravery, fearlessness and familiarity of the mountainous terrain , gave them tactical edge over the British army. The modern weaponry and vast manpower were the strengths of the latter. Definitely, the boiling cauldron of strategically planned invasions, border tensions and ambitious dreams of expansion became the ingredients of an imminent war. Thus, in 1814 AD, began the famous Gorkha war. The disputes arose because of conflicting expansionism and no fixed land boundary separating the aspirations of the Gorkhas and British. Gorkha raids into the fertile terai flatlands finally brought the inevitable conflict between the two powerful forces out into the open.
The Gorkha war was fought between the kingdom of Nepal and the East India company. It ended after much bloodshed and the defeat of Nepal, with the Treaty of Sugoli in 1916, ceding one-third of Nepal’s territory to the British. A four-pronged attack was led by the British, under the aegis of the Governor-General, Francis Rawdon-Hastings, or the Earl of Moira. In May of 1813, the Gorkhas had declared war. Hastings sent four divisions into separate attacks : General Marley with 8000 men against Kathmandu, General Wood with 4000 men against Butwal, General David Ochterlony with 10,000 men against Amar Singh Thapa and General Robert Rollo Gillespie with 3,500 men against Balbhadra Kunwar in the area of Nalapani and the Garhwal hills.
Off Raipur Road lies the well-known area called Nalapani. I drove up through a large gate, named ‘Balbhadra Dwar”. As I reached the summit of the Kalunga hill, a drive through about 10 km of dense, frightening forested rocky land, I could almost see the fortress erected by Balbhadra Kunwar and his Gorkha army. Legend has it, that there was a stone fort here, which was strangely buttressed by three rows of multi-tiered bamboo stockade, which could effectively withstand the onslaught of the cannon balls fired by the British.The bamboo archades and dense forested land made entry into the stronghold very tricky. The chieftain and his 600-men (armed with their deadly and traditional weapon, the khukri) and their women and children lived here. General Gillespie set camp at Meerut, and led his 3,500 men with about 20 cannons towards the Nepalese-occupied valley of Dehradun. He succeeded in capturing the valley, but was repulsed by Gorkha resistance from the fort on the 150-metre high Kalyunga hill. Gullespie’s army surrounded the hill from all sides and strove to overcome the tough resistance put up by Balbhadra Kunwar and his brave warriors for almost six weeks. Gullespie sent several letters and missives to the chieftain to surrender, which were all torn up. James Frazer, a junior officer in the campaign wrote, “…they fought us in fair combat, showed us a courtesy worthy of a more enlightened people. I never saw more steadiness or bravery exhibited in my life. Run, they would not, and of death, they seemed to have no fear, though their comrades were falling thick around them, for we were so near that every shot told…..”
There was no surrender, and standing in the shadow of the monument built in their memory, I could almost hear the boom of the cannon balls as they fell upon the fortress. The screams of injured and dying man and women and children still hang, frozen in the silence of time, amidst the tall sal trees. The tortured pleas of the Gorkha soldier as he ran for medical help for the gaping musket ball hole in his stomach resounded and echoed inside my mind. When the men and their meager weapons ran out, the few remaining men, women and even children hurled every kind of weapon, including poison arrows, flints, sticks and stones, at the fast-approaching British army, who managed to capture the fortress by cutting off food and water supplies.
The final attack was planned for 1st November 1814. General Gillespie and his men attacked the fort a day earlier. On the morning on 31st October, in the guise of road-builders, as they stormed this formidable citadel of the Gorkhas, they were shot through the chest and died. When the army finally entered the Kalunga fort, they found dead and dying men , women and children, who had been deprived of food and water for days. General Gillespie’s men torched the bamboo battlements and razed the stone fort to the ground. Today nothing remains of the war, but a red stone monument with the Gorkha emblem with two khukris at its top. The valley of Dehradun can be seen from here. The silent monument bears witness to the Kalunga war or Nalapani conflict, and the long-forgotten fallen men from both armies. It is said that Balbhadra Thapa escaped with a few men to fight another day. Allegedly, the British lost 31 officers and 732 soldiers, while the Gorkha army lost 520 men. Two stone obelisks rose in this area as a mark of honour of the British army and their gallant adversaries. One of the obelisks has a placard with the words “On this spot, General Gillespie fell fighting”, the other says “In memory of our valiant adversary Balbhadra Thapa, who lost 173, in 1814.”
This battle proved to be the most important milestone for the Gorkha clan. Meanwhile, General Ochterlony too had won the battle on the western front. The Gorkhas thus lost the war for a piece of land, but gained their rightful piece of recognition as a people to be reckoned with, and were recruited in the Indian British army, who recognized their potential as worthy warriors. Some members of General Amar Singh Thapas defeated army and Balbhadra Thapas surviving forces were recruited into His Majesty’s Royal forces. Their recruitment into the enemy army was a unique part of military history. About 5,000 men who were either the defectors or the defeated ,made up the three battalions raised from the Gorkha soldiers. They were mostly the Kumaonis, Garhwalis and other Himalayan hill men, and came to be known collectively as “Gorkhas”. According to a British general in 1815, “They are a hardy and cheerful race, enduring privations and are obedient. They are a neutral kind of hindu, and would make excellent soldiers.”
The Treaty of Segauli was ratified on 4th march 1816. It restricted the Kingdom of Nepal within the area lying between the Mechi river in the east and the Mahalaki river in the west. Nepal gained the reputation of being the only country to fight battles with places it had no direct conflict with. It is rare in the history of warfare to see such admiration by the conquerors of the performance, dedication and bravery of a race of people who were defeated.
General Robert Rollo Gillespie, Major General and Knight Commander of the Most Honourable Military Order of the Bath, was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross. His ashes as also the memories of his short yet commendable career lie buried in St. John’s Cemetery Meerut. His grave bears the inscription “KALUNGA, October 31st 1814.” I can visualize the feelings of his younger sister as she rode accompanied by four or five British officers, to the fort that he died capturing , grieving over his death as also the death of her husband in this war. The letter written by Balbhadra Kunwar to General Bhimsen Thapa says that General Gillespie and eight officers with a column of their troops, including sappers, entered through the forest posing as road–builders and attacked at dawn. The sister of the General looked around the fort with a telescope, from a safe distance out of range of cannon-fire.
Another letter written by Dhanbir Thapa to His Majesty, after the Nalapani War, speaks of the defection of some of the clans to the British army.
Nothing remains of Kalunga hill today. The enemy burnt and dismantled the whole fort. The place lies abandoned since years. A stone memorial seems to stand strangely forlorn atop the hill. Below the soil, traces of the stone foundation of the fort still exist. Some cannon balls were found and are the property of the ASI. The battle that recognized the soldiers of the bravest kingdom in the world, is silent today. The cannons shots have stopped resounding within the forests, which are strangely bereft of birds, animals or butterflies. Taking a last look around this piece of history, I clearly heard General Gillespie’s last words as he fell to bullets that fateful day, “One more shot for the honour of Down!”
I do not know who were the real fallen heroes of this site- I only know that the Battle of Kalunga / Nalapani turned the tide for both sides of the battle. Adversaries turned Compatriots. And another chapter of History was written.
I am one of the fortunate few who has visited this site and fulfilled my destiny to pay tribute to all the people involved in the Nalapani War, all thanks to my good friend, Anil, to whom I dedicate this article. I strongly recommend everyone who has a passion for the sometimes bloodied, sometimes sordid, but always valiant yester-world, to visit the Kalunga hill in Nalapani, Dehradun. Just close your eyes, and hear what the oppressive silence so desperately strives to hide!
Dr. Seema Tyagi
Meerut
Tuesday 17 August 2010
Independence Day 2010
“Where the mind is without fear, and the head is held high, into that heaven of Freedom, my Father, let my country awake” - so quoth the Bard of Bengal, the ultimate visionary!
The dreams in his eyes were no doubt those of a united socialist secular independent nation, where every citizen would breathe the intoxicating air of freedom.
Impassioned, lyrical compositions of motivated poets, fiery speeches by dedicated patriots and the strength of unity in every Indian’s heart, were probably the magical mix in the smoldering cauldron of those unstable times, which ultimately brought us, as a people, out from the claustrophobic colonialism and servitude that had been thrust upon us by the weak rulers of that era. Their combined efforts and prayers along with the steely determination in every heart to stand up and be counted, gifted us our very own Pied Piper- a little man with a huge vision and immeasurable strength of purpose. Where Gandhiji led, people followed, pinning their dreams in his leadership.
Independence was anticipated, dreamt of, planned strategically for, and ultimately won, with his inimitable weapons of ahimsa and satyagrah. While the world slept, a nation bowed low on its knees under the weight of servitude of nearly two centuries, awoke at the stroke of midnight to freedom, on 15th of August 1947. The magnanimity of the evolution of a humbled people, who rose as one and attained the impossible, was a feat unparalleled in the history of the world.
Today, as we salute a nation and its people on this 64th year of its rebirth, there are problems of a magnitude of 9.9 on the Richter scale ahead. There is no doubt that India has made its rightful place as an economic power in the world. The rupee has won its place in the currencies of the so-called developed world, by incorporating an international symbol for it. Our business houses, exports, fashion houses, agricultural products, industrialization and ever-rising economy are worth appreciation. But is our mind truly without fear? And is our head really held high?
Incorporating patriotism with a gun held to our collective heads, or expecting it to bloom within us with the carrot of unreal targets dangled in front of our eyes, is hardly conducive to true progress. Be it the taint of deeply- entrenched corruption, or lack of pride and mistaken identities of who we really are and where we wish to reach, the end-results are dismaying! Trivialization of vital issues, degradation of civic and moral values, and also the firm grip on our so-called “culture” by the self-appointed caretakers of society- form the rot within our systems that will slowly but surely lead to decay of a glorious nation.
Advertisements aired all over the world of an Incredible India, fall flat in the face of calamities, when we, assisted by an ever-willing media, expose our callous and selfish self-centered attitudes. News of airlines raising their fares in the wake of natural disasters, alleged hoarding of essential commodities in times of dire need and even the washing of our dirty linen in public by indiscriminate use of the freedom of the press vis-à-vis the potholes in the paths leading to the Commonwealth Games- haven’t all of these taken away and decimated a vital part of the aura that we, the people of India were famous for? The mantra “Atithi Devo Bhava” gets buried under the debris of our short-sighted gains, desires and habits. None of the alleged festering mosquito larvae abounding in the CWG stadia, heaped construction materials or leaking roofs can dim the luster off the face of this great nation as much as can our own desecrating criticism of it.
On this 64th Independence Day, it is surely time to sit up and take stock of our position atop our self-glorified pedestal. It is time to combine freedom with responsibility, questions with logical answers. It is time to leave off the inane and insane, to stop wasting our energies on naming and re-naming of roads, towns and buildings and building monumental monstrosities dedicated to the true patriots. It is time to define our goals and set our targets on reasonable means of reaching there. Let us all take a solemn pledge this historic day, rewrite the constitution within our souls, and lead India to its rightful place among the stars. Today, let each Indian stand erect, take all of 52 seconds off from his visions and dreams, and sing aloud the greatest of the Bard’s compositions - our National Anthem!
Jaya he, Jaya he, Jaya he… Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya he…
[This was published in the Delhi Times supplement by Time of India, on the 15th of August, 2010.]
The dreams in his eyes were no doubt those of a united socialist secular independent nation, where every citizen would breathe the intoxicating air of freedom.
Impassioned, lyrical compositions of motivated poets, fiery speeches by dedicated patriots and the strength of unity in every Indian’s heart, were probably the magical mix in the smoldering cauldron of those unstable times, which ultimately brought us, as a people, out from the claustrophobic colonialism and servitude that had been thrust upon us by the weak rulers of that era. Their combined efforts and prayers along with the steely determination in every heart to stand up and be counted, gifted us our very own Pied Piper- a little man with a huge vision and immeasurable strength of purpose. Where Gandhiji led, people followed, pinning their dreams in his leadership.
Independence was anticipated, dreamt of, planned strategically for, and ultimately won, with his inimitable weapons of ahimsa and satyagrah. While the world slept, a nation bowed low on its knees under the weight of servitude of nearly two centuries, awoke at the stroke of midnight to freedom, on 15th of August 1947. The magnanimity of the evolution of a humbled people, who rose as one and attained the impossible, was a feat unparalleled in the history of the world.
Today, as we salute a nation and its people on this 64th year of its rebirth, there are problems of a magnitude of 9.9 on the Richter scale ahead. There is no doubt that India has made its rightful place as an economic power in the world. The rupee has won its place in the currencies of the so-called developed world, by incorporating an international symbol for it. Our business houses, exports, fashion houses, agricultural products, industrialization and ever-rising economy are worth appreciation. But is our mind truly without fear? And is our head really held high?
Incorporating patriotism with a gun held to our collective heads, or expecting it to bloom within us with the carrot of unreal targets dangled in front of our eyes, is hardly conducive to true progress. Be it the taint of deeply- entrenched corruption, or lack of pride and mistaken identities of who we really are and where we wish to reach, the end-results are dismaying! Trivialization of vital issues, degradation of civic and moral values, and also the firm grip on our so-called “culture” by the self-appointed caretakers of society- form the rot within our systems that will slowly but surely lead to decay of a glorious nation.
Advertisements aired all over the world of an Incredible India, fall flat in the face of calamities, when we, assisted by an ever-willing media, expose our callous and selfish self-centered attitudes. News of airlines raising their fares in the wake of natural disasters, alleged hoarding of essential commodities in times of dire need and even the washing of our dirty linen in public by indiscriminate use of the freedom of the press vis-à-vis the potholes in the paths leading to the Commonwealth Games- haven’t all of these taken away and decimated a vital part of the aura that we, the people of India were famous for? The mantra “Atithi Devo Bhava” gets buried under the debris of our short-sighted gains, desires and habits. None of the alleged festering mosquito larvae abounding in the CWG stadia, heaped construction materials or leaking roofs can dim the luster off the face of this great nation as much as can our own desecrating criticism of it.
On this 64th Independence Day, it is surely time to sit up and take stock of our position atop our self-glorified pedestal. It is time to combine freedom with responsibility, questions with logical answers. It is time to leave off the inane and insane, to stop wasting our energies on naming and re-naming of roads, towns and buildings and building monumental monstrosities dedicated to the true patriots. It is time to define our goals and set our targets on reasonable means of reaching there. Let us all take a solemn pledge this historic day, rewrite the constitution within our souls, and lead India to its rightful place among the stars. Today, let each Indian stand erect, take all of 52 seconds off from his visions and dreams, and sing aloud the greatest of the Bard’s compositions - our National Anthem!
Jaya he, Jaya he, Jaya he… Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya he…
[This was published in the Delhi Times supplement by Time of India, on the 15th of August, 2010.]
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