Skip to main content

Happy Independance Day!

Come Independance Day and we love to come together and sing Vande Mataram and Jana Gana Mana. "We are ONE irrespective of caste,creed or religion or region etc etc etc."

But I sense that this is a time when we want to come together by getting rid of our identity as being a Hindu or a Muslim or a Christian.
Religion does not define me.

We want to rid ourselves of our identity as a Tamilian or Kannadiga or Bengali or Kashmiri.
It isn't region or language that defines my patriotism (Subramanya Bharathi: You should have written patriotic poetry in a language everyone understands!)

We definitely want to rid oursleves of our identity as a Dalit or Brahmin or Kshatriya or Baniya.
Caste is a complete No-No.

It does not matter that I am an engineer or doctor or lawyer or artiste or sculptor.
All professions recognise that August 15th is a holiday.

I may be a mother or father or grandmother or aunt or cousin.
It is "I" that matters. Not my identity in my family (no chocolates at flag hoisting for the diabetic grandma anyway).

We are so busy being patriotic by getting rid of everything that defines us the other 364 days of the year (OK barring Gandhi Jayanthi and Republic Day). I would rather celebrate that we are harmonious in sharing sevvaiyan on Id, playing with colours on Holi, waiting for that yummy Christmas cake your friend's mother bakes every year, the lassi from Bobby's Dhaba at the Gurudwara. Because in this celebration, we recognise and acknowledge everything that makes us what we are. It is in these moments that that we truly wish one another good. It is on these festive days that there is no pretension of being alike. Because we are not alike. If we can ever celebrate an Independance Day by coming together and celebrating our differences, when knowing and acknowledging our identities as varied as they may be is not frowned upon, when we are not embarrassed by our religion or caste or profession, then patriotism may not need to be a word that is relegated to civics text books and August 15th. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MY ALONE

A few days ago, my daughter walked off to a birthday party saying "I will go my alone." MY ALONE was her new English phrase for the week meaning 'all by myself'. Not just 'myself', "ALL BY MYSELF"! And as I watched her walk down the hallway to the neighbour's house, I felt a funny feeling in the pit of my tummy. Of all the funny-feelings-in-tummy motherhood brings you, this one was new. WAS MY BABY GROWING UP? You see, mothers are usually programmed to be blind to any of these so-called hints of growing up. So obviously it surprised me that I was thinking this at all! Growing up in Mommy language usually refers to other things like: 1. Baby Being toilet trained after months of cleaning up and mopping up and coercing and making sssss sounds while the bored baby sits on the Potty. 2. Baby Being able to chew food -accompanied by a lot of "CHEW CHEW CHEW" and nudging the food stuck in the cheek. 3. Baby Giving up the feeding bott...

A Box of Questions this BHOGI

The Hanuman temple at the end of the street where my parents live has been our go-to temple ever since I can remember. Whether it is a prayer for someone ill or a ThankYou for a milestone reached, sometimes 'just-like-that' and sometimes for a heart-to-heart, this Hanuman has been a constant in the lives of those who live nearby. A month ago, the temple was decked up for Hanuman Jayanti and my dad couldn't stop raving about how majestic our beloved Hanuman looked, how exquisitely the ceiling had been painted with tulasi and flowers and what a beautifully festive look the entire street had taken on. There was a constant stream of visitors for Him that day- each one being fed with a sumptuous lunch. Would this be any Hanuman Jayanti anywhere in the world? Probably! So why go on harping about this one? Because the choicest flowers were hand picked and strung together by a Muslim. The lunch was joyfully prepared by boys whose caste and religion no one knows. The entire cost fo...

Look who's learning

The whole world of new mothers seem to be logged on to at least 4 of the zillion parenting websites and have bought at least 2 of the many parenting/baby milestone books. Not to say I ridicule any of them- I have done so myself. All of them proclaim "let your baby explore" - and they have me mighty confused for mine insists on exploring the dirtiest or the most dangerous of things/places... bathroom floors, the underside of a tap, the dustbin, the stove, plug points... and the same books proclaim "these things are normal". While I cannot confine her exploring and discovering to anything hygienic and safe, I can at least get her immune to chaat germs and loud music. Destination 1: the beach It was too dark to get her into the water but the bright red blinking horns and flying discus were good enough. Next time aound- molaga bajji and butta. Destination 2: Art Gallery (Art appreciation is closely linked to EQ)  uhmmm...she fell asleep! Destination 3: A2B on...