When the winds of change threaten to invite anarchy within its midst my tri coloured flag flies high in the sky putting to shame all superficial claims to maintain democracy. When the winds of change entice a generation too chilled out to feel the pangs of democratic labour then, my national flag rustles quietly in the free breeze building up a quiet revolution of self realization and forbearance. Can we allow a mere changing wind to ruffle our age old foundation of love for the soil that enriches our very being, the soul itself? When the nation works relentlessly to … Continue reading What We Can Do
The bald head, those branded spherical spectacles, the white loin cloth and that lean long stick – we identify so much with all those that symbolized freedom. …… Even today, when all seems lost when law and order is just a line on paper, when conscience is only a fashionable word to decorate self help journals, the brisk steps marching with hope seem the only way out. …… If he could do it without a drop of blood or wounding word so can we, I think. If an entire captive nation’s self-respect can be snatched back without malice and mire … Continue reading If He Could, We Can!
He died today, uttering the Lord’s name. An Indian shot by another Indian. I stand corrected. A great old gem of an Indian shot by a man, an Indian misled by his unjust beliefs. Okay. The man must have had his problems but, even after so many years, I still mourn the loss of the man who moved about in his loin cloth and stick, unmindful of rain or sun, summer or winter and led an imprisoned nation to freedom. Right from under the noses of the country who thought itself the most powerful regime in the world. But then, … Continue reading The Grandfather I Never Had!