India - Mine and Theirs
My beloved country India is at the threshold of completing 77 years of independence. Its certainly a joyous occasion, one that needs to be cherished and celebrated.
Then why am I not feeling like celebrating? Why does my spirit dampen like the dark clouds? Why am I not proud of what my country has become? Why does a heavy sadness weigh on my heart?
Because I am aware of what is around me.
For one, inequality is at a historic high. While an appalling number of people are still sleeping hungry, without a roof over their head, we hear of never-seen before monstrous wedding celebrations. We learn that 2% Indians are worth more than 80% Indians' collective net wroth. We see open flouting of norms, rules, standards to manipulate the market and secure profits. We know ballots are being tampered. We hear judges being threatened, we see the police serving the powerful.
Students burning the midnight oil to clear unbelievably tough competitive exams are being cheated of a fair chance of getting that coveted seat. Papers are leaked, undeserving candidates top the exams, get plum jobs.
While schools and colleges tighten discipline, the violence on roads and public places spirals unchecked. Luxury cars mow down pedestrians with impunity, secure that money will buy justice.
Rapes, mutilation, acid attacks, murders, nothing stuns us anymore. We have reached a state of Zen, of immunized self-preservation.
Who got molested? Not any woman of my family.
Who dies on the operation table from a botched surgery? Not anyone in my circle.
Who commits suicide in Kota? In IIT? Maybe some depressed student, certainly not my child.
Whose hard earned money is being phished? Not mine or my spouse's, thank God.
Who languishes for days in jail for crimes they haven't committed? For protesting against injustice? Some crazy NGO or activist type.
Me- I am an obedient, law abiding citizen as long as my needs and wants are getting met. The India of the past, the Vedic ages, pre-historic wonders, India's image abroad matter to me more than present malaises.
Nothing matters, you see, nothing touches me. I am comfortable in my two/three- bedroom AC apartment in a gated community building, smugly watching TV and surfing social media. Hunger, poverty, violence, snatching away of basic rights, maiming people, police brutality, I can hardly be bothered about all this.
What matters to me is my India is shining. Tbere's Viksit Bharat all around my manicured lawns, air-conditioned office, swanky malls, glittering five-star hotels.
As long as I get my holidays abroad, a steady rise in my stocks, my child studying in an elite institute, my weekends spent in the hills or beaches, I am good. I sing praises of India's development story.
Ask the woman or child begging on the streets. Ask the rape victim lying in hospital. Ask the labourer toiling away for hours, and then being denied fair wages. Ask young people staring at a future devoid of employment opportunities. Ask a farmer on the verge of suicide.
Ask them if they feel they are independent. Even for a day......
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#IndependenceDay
#77YearsofIndependence
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