Patriots for a day

Patriots for a day

'Sir, he has to hoist the tricolour on his house and he has the tricolour.
He is asking for a house.'
 Note: The Prime Minister had called out all Indians to hoist the national flag on their homes on Independence Day.

I am a compulsive worrier, and very unselfish about it too. I do not need any personal problem/issue to worry about specifically. You tell me what is troubling you, I shall have my stomach in knots for days. I shall worry about it, obsess over it, and tell you all the aspects, pros and cons, possible solutions/remedies that my mental faculties can work out. 

So, when a school mate said he was going shuddh bharatiya (pure Indian) this August 15, our Independence Day, I naturally went into my hyper grey cell activity time. I imagined him giving up everything that does not have Indian roots, and moving back in time. My first worry was about the time frame he had in mind.

Was he talking of the pre-Aryan times? The Aryans, said to be Indo-European nomadic tribes themselves, had come from out of India. He is certainly not a Dravidian. Will he erase his own ancestors’ history?

Or was he talking of before the times of Persian invasions of 535 BC or Mohammad bin Qasim’s invasion of Sindh and Punjab in 712 A.D.?

After some thought, I presumed that he had the era before Mahmud of Ghazni’s invasion in 1001 AD in his mind, since the chapters in our history books mentioning foreign invasions generally start with that.

Will he give up everything that we, the large-hearted Indians, have so liberally adopted from the Mughals, the Portugese, the Dutch, the British, and absorbed in our lives and systems?

Will he give up the vegetables that we use daily in our meals- aloo (potatoes), tamatar (tomatoes), baingan (eggplant) or the nuts and dried fruits badaam (almonds), akhrot (walnut) kishmish (raisins) etc., that our desserts cannot do without?

Will he give up kesar (saffron), pulao, biryani, samosa, cakes, chocolates, ice cream?

Or will he switch back to datun (sticks of neem and other trees used as tooth brush) and Multani mitti (Fuller’s earth used as soap) instead of the toiletries sold by various multinationals or now even Indian firms?

Food in the colours of the Indian national flag is the fashion for 24 hours.

How will he convince people to play kho-kho, kabaddi, seven stones and geete (pacheta) with him? Will he not watch cricket, football anymore? How will he exhibit his patriotism when a great rival team is playing against India in cricket, hockey or other games and sports?

Does he plan to gossip about others or count stars invisible in the city sky, for entertainment, and cancel his subscription to Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube etc.? Never Google? Or use phone?

Will he switch to dhoti, chadar, pagdee (turban), giving up shirts, pants, pullovers, suits? Give up western/Unani medicine and extract a promise from his children that they would not get their own children vaccinated? Never support the family’s interest in anything- chikankari, suzani, crochet, knitting needles? 

For two days I kept scribbling away the list of thousands of objects and activities which are proof of foreign influence on India, coming to my mind.

The classmate sent the message in the group again. He seemed to be getting more serious about his intentions. This worried me. Not thinking it appropriate to ask him, I shared my thoughts with Mani. 

You are right. Mani did look aghast, surprisingly, not at my classmate’s remark, but at my reaction, presumptions and research. Staring at the wall behind me, he merely nodded his head left to right and vice versa as if I had gone loco.

Disappointed, I gave that extreme idea up and thought afresh, albeit, a lot more practically this time.

Perhaps he would watch the Independence Day celebrations in New Delhi on television and listen to the Prime Minister’s promises for the yet-unseen better future for our country, from the ramparts of the red Fort.

Or he would brave the sun and humidity and go to watch the official celebrations in his own city. He could spend the day discussing ways to make India a better place and take up a project to do so, alone or with other like-minded people.

Among the more passive activities, perhaps he would watch patriotic movies or cricket matches in which India won, all day. He could give up some frills in life or luxuries to give to somebody else who had more limited means.

Now, my engine too was fired up and I volunteered to go with Mani’s cousin Vandana Didi and her husband, Col (Retd.) Niranjan Pandey, to an inter college for girls that the former’s father (Mani’s maternal uncle) had opened in Mahua Dabar village in Gorakhpur district (not the historic village of the same name in Basti district) to encourage girls’ education, for flag-hoisting on Independence Day.

We started at 4.00 am, driving from our place in Lucknow, reaching the school straight in Mahuadabar, 225-odd kms away, at 8.45 a.m. with only a short tea break to straighten our legs.

Unmindful of the sun and the humidity, about 250 girls between the age of 6 and 18 years in their starched white salwar kameez and dupatta uniform, and the dozen teachers all appeared to be eagerly waiting for us, the guests. As is the ritual in all schools, after the flag-hoisting was a short inspiring speech by chief guest Col Pandey, followed by an hour and a half long patriotic song and dance programme. Mobiles were allowed that day, so it was natural that students would take photos and make videos of their class mates’ performance.

Her natural generous self, Vandana Didi gave away from her own pocket, cash prizes to last year’s toppers.

The school, like the village, has limited means and teachers come from the villages around, ready to share their knowledge with the girls of the area, for meagre salaries.

It was heart-warming to see girls making the best of the opportunity they had been offered. They were well-mannered, seemed to have a cordial bond with their teachers, looked pleased with our presence and spoke well. Looking at them, I kept my fingers crossed that at least some of them would be able to break the barriers of the society, become what they wanted to, ensuring a better future for themselves, and fulfilling the unrealized dreams of their mothers.

Independence Day celebrations at Harihar Prasad Savitri Devi Girls Inter College, Mahuadabar, Gorakhpur district Photos: Vandana Pandey

To be honest, my presence there was of no practical help. I was just a spectator, cheering on the runners in a marathon.

After the programme, we had tea with the staff (of course, I told them that the round milky, grated coconut-covered sweet was excellent) and it was time to head back.

With a half an hour break for lunch at a roadside restaurant on the way, we reached home at 4.30 p.m. The nine-hour drive had been like a picnic for me, having spent it in the company of two of my favourite people (the bathroom situation was tough, though). 

The rest of the day passed away in household and other chores and the 78^th Independence Day was fast gone.

The next morning, checking my phone for messages, I opened the school group chat.

I felt underwhelmed as I went through the proud messages of former classmates about how some of them had spent the day. That classmate had fixed the tri-colour on a stick in a flower pot, eaten tri-colour pulao for lunch, watched some TV programmes half the day and then visited the mall with friends because it was a holiday.  

Had I overreacted?  All the energy I had spent worrying about him was a waste; it could have been directed elsewhere. What was I thinking? It hit me so hard that I just had to share it with you. 

So much for his patriotism and my overthinking! 

                                                                                                     - Anupama S Mani