Saffron, White and Green

Today, on independent India's 63rd birthday, let us not talk about where we are lagging. Let us not whip the lousy bureaucrats or the stinking hypocrites who tarnish our country. Let us not spin an incomprehensible tale about two Indias - one fresh and fervent and the other inactive and indolent. Let today's narration register my feelings of pride -

The pride I feel when I am called an Indian. The pride I feel when India is considered as a member of the league of global superpowers. The pride I feel when the happenings at Dalal Street evoke serious reactions in Wall Street. The pride I feel when an exuberant Dhoni hoists a silver cup and a dejected Ponting stares into nothingness. The pride I feel when a Saina and a Sania wield two different racquets with the same compassion. The pride I feel when Sachin Tendulkar's face at 35 shows the same delight when he reaches triple figures as it showed when it was 18. The pride I feel when an Indian jawan patrols over impossible terrains to protect his motherland. The pride I feel when the musical genius of Rehman effortlessly renders 'Jaya He' with Pandit Jasraj and 'Jai Ho' for Danny Boyle. The pride I feel when an Indian beauty mesmerizes shutterbugs in Cannes and Venice. The pride I feel when our cine-legends get to marvel their wax effigies in London. The pride I feel when an Indian kid beats his American counterparts in their own language at the Spelling-Bee competitions. The pride I feel when despite years of communal strife, Hindus still flock Ajmer and Muslims still pay homages at Banaras. The pride I feel when Ratan Tata silences his detractors by giving the people of India the first and the only Common Man's Car. The pride I feel when India flexes its military muscle in the field displays at the Republic Day celebrations in Delhi. The pride I feel when rubbishing all modern cultural influences, an Indian youth still doesn't fail to touch the feet of his elders. The pride I feel when I see the entire healthcare system of the nation collectively persevering to battle pandemics and epidemics all round the clock. The pride I feel when books of Chetan Bhagat and Salman Rushdie sell like hotcakes at the local book-stores. The pride I feel when Mumbai and other blast-hit cities show unparalleled courage and concord to make the shards of terrorism blunter with each attack. The pride I feel when a group of fourth-graders discuss Pachauri and global warming with authority and interest. The pride I feel when I see the sky decorated with a thousand colours on Uttarayan and a shower of lights on Deepawali. The pride I feel when a billion aspirations take flight at the break of every dawn and quite a number of them manage to soar till enviable heights. The pride I feel when the lullabies of the night put those billion avian aspirations to sleep with the knowledge of having inched closer to their destinations. The pride I feel when the tri-colour unfurls over the roof of a building. The pride I feel when soul-stirring patriotic songs pour out of All-India Radio transmitters. The pride I feel when I call India my love, my home, my motherland. The pride I feel....a pride we all ought to feel.

Happy birthday, independent India. May your Gods bless you.

NOTE: That was indeed quite a long list of prides. Knowing the cynical fools that we are, the list of shames would probably be even longer. But, we have until the next fifteenth of August to talk about that!