Just Another Day


tricolorIt was 9:00 in the morning. Not my usual time of getting off the bed. But then screams & shouts are not the usual forms of din that I come across, this early in the morning. The intensity of the sounds coming from the garden resembled nothing close to the routine sounds of vans & auto rickshaws picking up small kids to their early morning-schools. I got off my bed, clearly annoyed. All I wanted was a peaceful sleep. I moved toward the drawing room to get to the balcony that oversees the garden area of my beautiful society. There, in the drawing room, my father was watching the great opposed leader turned PM delivering yet another speech, but this time in turbans.Just few days ago, he visited Ladakh and delivered a speech, adorned in traditional clothes. When in Rome, be Romans. He took this adage very seriously. Then, in his designer kurta and turban, he talked about children’s education & above all upliftment of tribal (including Maoist) youths to make them self employed. And then, I realized, this was no usual speech. This was the PM’s speech- the speech from Red Fort. The day was 15th of August. I quickly walked in the balcony to find the cause of unusual cacophony. I could see the tricolor unfurled. One thing was sure the sounds were to do nothing with the Independence day. Claps or patriotic songs on  15th August makes up the ambiance. This was no ambient.   I could see a poor guy, in his teens, crying; his mouth stuffed with sweets he had no desire to taste. The President of the society was yelling at a lady, probably his mother. His mother was apologizing for the boy’s act. The boy belonged to a nearby slum, who attempted to escape with a box of sweets for his little sister.The watchman caught him at the stall and with cruelty flaunted his bravery by stuffing the boy’s mouth with the sweets in the box. The President slapped him, then called his mother & sent him home after threatening him of cops for trespassing & theft. That was the end of nuisance. The members of the society then played few patriotic songs, exchanged sweets, enjoyed breakfast & left, celebrating the freedom  in its 68th year. Celebrations over.

The morning nuisance did explain the lack of humanity in the same people who pretend to have experienced nationalism by celebrating the festival. Poverty has engulfed more slaves than Sovereignty could buy.

After all the drama, I watched the flag still catching the wind of freedom. I turned back & without stopping by the Neta delivering ‘from-the-heart speech’ at the Red Fort, I went back to sleep. It was just another day.

-Satyagni

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