Our time is now…

15th of August is celebrated as the Independence Day in India. Since in Delhi we fly kites on this occasion, it has always held a special significance in my life, as I eagerly waited for the day to come ‘coz of my strong liking for kite flying. Coincidently, that was the day I flew from India to Australia, first time ever travelling out of India….and again flying for New York at about the same date. Guess I am not waiting so eagerly this year (neither was I, the last year!!) but I still keep a count of it!

The other day, one of my friends made me listen to this audio, of which I remember few of the following lines:
There are two India’s in this country. One India is straining at the leash and eager to live up to all the adjectives, the world has been showering upon us; the other India is the leash. One India says give me a chance to prove myself; the other India says prove yourself and maybe then you’ll have a chance. One India lives in optimism of our hearts; the other India lurks in the skepticism of our minds. One India wants; the other India hopes. One India leads; the other India follows. But today, the times are changing. The conversions are on the rise and with each passing day people from other India are coming to this side….quietly while the world is not looking. A pulsating dynamic new India is emerging. An India, whose faith in success is far greater than its fear in failure. An India that no longer boycotts foreign made goods, but buys out the companies that makes them instead. History, they say, is a bad motorists, it rarely ever signals its intentions when it’s taking a turn. This is that ‘rarely ever’ moment. History is turning a page. After more than half a century of Independence, one India, the tiny little voice is looking down at the bottom of the earth and hesitating…and the other India is looking up the sky and saying… its time to fly.

These words would surely make every Indian think as to which part of India they actually belong to. I've never thought of myself as a particularly patriotic person (in its various manifestations) but this piece, moved me as very few other things have done. It was as though the country of which I am a part, and which is an inextricable part of me was asking me to be part of the new India. What did I think of when I thought of India? What random impressions conjured my two Indias? In fact, for me, it’s not limited to two…there are many Indias which I see in one India…

India is vast space; space to accommodate the shout of giant cities, teeming with the millions, with lots of energy and lots of empty silence. The space to include the commoners and the politician, the poet and the revolutionary, the street rogue and the master trader, non-violence and nuclear…

India is cricket; with every kid dreaming to be a Sachin Tendulkar of his own time, running back home from his school to play his favorite game of cricket, skipping school to watch Indian cricket matches and praying for the victory while putting on the official sports dress…

India is the express highway thundering with the fast lane traffic and the service lane beside it for ‘camels, elephants and bullock carts'. India is mega dams and factories, call centres and shopping malls, beauty pageants and the Valentine’s Day and the voices raised in protest against all these and more…

India is bollywood; with numerous motion pictures released every year, breaking the record of Hollywood now, with billboards of superstars on the streets daring to distract already imbalanced traffic, back-side of the door of teenager’s room carrying their favorite hero. India is that person who has never dreamed through his own eyes but through the character played in bollywood movies, India is mom and dad listening to the good-old songs of ‘their’ time, people waiting impatiently every Friday for the new releases, every event associated with the music, masti (fun), magic of our very own home-grown fantasy world…

India is a color TV, with a picture of Lakshmi (Indian goddess for prosperity) on top, playing MTV while grandmother counts the beads and grandchildren dream of reaching the moon…

India is the calendar of a forgotten face of a forgotten leader on an election poster stuck on the rickety mud wall of a village deserted by all but the ghost of hunger, but still it is the 'Ram, Ram' of timeless greetings exchanged by strangers who pass each other on a lonely path…

India is Ambani, Tata, Birla, who built the empires only because they desired, India is Infosys, Mittal steel, Wipro, which has inverted the definition of acquisitions in the world of India Inc…

India is the smell of incense, of dry earth when the first drops of rain fall, of the dust and sweat of century old buses, of the extra sweet, milky tea served in an earthen bowl by a 'chai , chaiwala !' (read, tea seller) on the noisy railway stations of night…

India is the love of mom…

India is the crowded market where more than two dozen languages and half a dozen faiths negotiate the day-to-day transactions of buying and selling, and haggling and cheating, and quarrelling, and, above all, always above all, living together. India is medley, of all different color, creed, caste, religion…

India is the Art of Living, ISKCON and various other religious sects who preach different learning, yet carry a common thread by delivering the common message…

India is the rhythm of Nehru's 'Tryst with Destiny' speech, and India is the scribble by the cartoonist Lakshman which in a single unbroken line captures the iconic essence of the Indian common man, and India is Husain's portrait of the faceless face of a woman draped in a white, blue-bordered sari…

India is a dream; a dream created by Gandhi, Nehru, Tilak, Bhagat Singh, Azad and millions of other freedom fighters, a dream raised by parents of every child born on Indian soil, a dream seen by every Indian youth, a dream carried by every poor who couldn’t afford his meal twice a day, a dream searched by every Indian who migrated to a foreign land, a dream enlivened by every Indian …not in their sleeps but when they are wide awake…

India is much more than a million mutinies now; it is a billion-plus narratives of itself, waiting to be told. Not just once upon a time, but once upon a future...