“Come on. This is our nation’s day. We got to do something!” He exclaims with a touch of pride in his voice. Such are the days that make it harder to single out the real pride, if present, from the delectation of being gifted with an official holiday. It has been more than an hour that he is repeating the same meaning in the face of almost same lines with different words fitted in between. “It’s our day”, “It is India’s day” or “It is your day”. Poor guy. He thinks replacing a word every time would be enough to get her out of her exciting monotonous routine of staying at home, and of course sleeping, which she is trying to do now.
After listening to his rant, that too for more than an hour, her patience has been wearing thin and she is done with it now. So, she brings her almost round face out of the cozy blanket and narrows her big black eyes on him. “See I am not going anywhere. You just celebrate your day and let me celebrate mine”, she growls at him. Pulling over the blanket back on her face, she tries to adjust herself which seems more like squirming on her bed.
This infuriates him. The thought of joyous moments of one’s nation makes one feel proud and full of enthusiasm. But her behavior is making him red now. Trying to cool himself down, he takes a deep breath and starts, yet again.
“Parade is such a delight to watch. Isn’t it? People performing their folk activities are so much fun to behold. Remember on last Independence Day, this same day, we all went to India gate. Didn’t we enjoy?” He took a pause and added, “At least show some respect for our freedom fighters who sacrificed themselves for this day.”
He notices some fiddling inside the otherwise still blanket. What the hell is she doing under the blanket?
“Are you alright?” He asks her when the movements don’t stop. She comes out of her blanket with a red face as if she has been trying to control either her anger or her laughter. Within a few seconds, she bursts into the laughter and asks him, “So you want to celebrate Independence Day outside my house?” A desperate yes from him comes to her as an expectant response. “Are you sure you want to celebrate Independence Day not inside home?” She asks him again.
“What have I been trying to do for last an hour?” He takes a glance at the small wall-clock hung above her bed and continues, “No. Actually two hours now. Obviously we cannot stay in. We ought to celebrate our Independence Day outside witnessing the celebration with our fellow Indians.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but you have to wait for few more months to enjoy these celebrations.”
He gives her a puzzled look,
to which she responds with a rollicking laugh and says, “Happy Republic Day Mr. Proud Indian. You have moved eight months forward and visualizing Independence Day on the day of Republic Day. And by the way our freedom fighters are remembered for Independence Day. Republic day gave India its own constitution, freeing it from the one of Britishers; turned it into a nation which could form and run its own government.” Saying this, she rolls over back to her sleeping position.
“Technically we might have got our freedom on Independence Day, but if a nation is restricted even to run its own government, I cannot fathom it as an independent nation. So, for this day, if you want to show some respect, show it to them who drafted our constitution legally on paper.” She said from under the blanket.
“Oh if that is the case, is this how you will show your respect to them?” He pulls the blanket off her face.
“You are not going to let me sleep. Are you? Anyhow, I believe to know the real reason and history of this day has already paid my share of respect to them. So, now you pay your share, google everything, and in the name of India let me sleep.”
PS – Not just he, but I am sure many of us are not crystal clear with the reason Republic Day is celebrated. I tried to share a very fine nugget of reason in a few plain, basic statements. If you want to dig deeper into it, you can click on this, or just reach out for your life savior, Mr. Google.
HAPPY REPUBLIC DAY!
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Copyright © 2017 by Idle Muser. All rights reserved.