“We owe a lot to the Indians, who taught us how to count, without which no worthwhile scientific discovery could have been made. “Albert Einstein
My reminiscence of Independence Day was that of a Holiday at school. Beyond a holiday and a day to sleep till long, it didn’t mean anything much to me at a young age. Steadily, with teachers’ ideas about all the history and the significance of the National Anthem which was sung every morning in the school assembly, I understood that it is much further than just a day’s of “chutti” from school.
Patriotism takes on a diverse element in small town Lucknow (where I lived) - while we exhausted urbanites groan in pleasure over a midweek public holiday (or if fortunate, the hope of a long weekend), actual India reflects the tricolor and all the colors of patriotism. My sweetest recollection is of an Independence day parade on the road, at a school near my house where several tiny tots swinging their hands up and down, fists tightly closes, in preparation emotion, yelling Vande Mata-lamm,. And a cutely dressed Bharat Mata in the center of the cluster, who tried to wave with one hand and holding the unmanageable white-with-red-border sari with the other hand . These views always use to be adorable.
When I sit to reflect on the life of my country - My breakdown is one of optimism, prospective and potentials. Even though political liberty was attained 62 years ago, fiscal liberty is still an isolated dream for the preponderance of the populace. When we think of milestones, achievement of 62 years is unique in India. Today, India has been free from its vicious colonial tenet for 62 years. In the ostentatious scheme of things it’s a diminutive time frame quite the opposite of a county rich with customs, religions, languages and history whose pedigree roots back to several years. However from our outline of reference, 62 years back; in spite of of all our inner brawls and incongruity on diverse fronts, we have held ourselves mutually and are forging ahead in gigantic steps.
On the other hand, 62 years afterward, as we imitate and slog to be equivalent to the developed nations, the true India seems to skulk in the backdrop, whether deliberately or naively, protecting the uniqueness that makes us who we are. We have now been abridged to religious signs in the world. Distant from being summoned as the creators of traditions, languages and number system et al, we are now a Muslim minority called Pakistan and a Hindu majority India. Not to forget that we are the low-priced and discounted tech- bondservant of the 21st century. After Mahatma Gandhi, Jawahar Lal Nehru, Subhash Chandra Bose, etc. come to think of our Heroes? They don’t exist anymore. Not one in reality today.
I dream of India - As my mind sinks in a trance, my soul seeks succor.
Aloofness from the world, voyaging into sacred dominions, I envisage “My India", positioned tall amid the rest. Shielded by the intrepid oceans that envelop it, and by the eternal peaks in the north, My India stands tough, a reflection of sacredness, traditions, mysticism and wholesomeness.
India- My dream.
“WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake. “
Rabindra Nath Tagore
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