Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Dawn of Freedom

I woke up to the sky of independence, there are bars in my window, and clouds in the sky, Nevertheless, my nation is free.

The horizon is ripe, with the rosy hues of promise, The promise of an uprising, that shall dazzle the world with it's brilliance. I look at the shapeless clouds, the sum of our indefinite fears, the unformed yet omnipresent, the shackles the bind our light.  I see the trees, standing tall, in their intangible permanence, the branches held out in a guard of honor, waiting for the promise to bear fruit.

Perhaps it's the trees that really know what is independence. After all they are the only biological organisms that make their own food, and are hence independent. They don't need any other living thing to support their existence. Yet they bear with us all, magnanimous and all-forgiving. Independence for them is responsibility, to shape and sustain their world, and make it a better place to live in. We humans should take some leaves out of their books. No pun intended.

I see my people. Everyone held still by the spellbinding happiness of a new dawn. For one moment, everyone is hoping for the same. Caste, creed, religion, affluence, ethnicity, race all have been rendered immaterial for those few seconds. United in the hope of sunrise and in the appreciation of it's beauty. The potential of a full fresh new day, striking every face and leaving it with a smile of contentment and determination. I see independence.

Moments later, everyone would get busy again with their lives. My train would reach Dhanbad, and I too will get back into my regular rhythm of life. The moments, might be remembered by few for some time ahead, but would sooner or later be buried in the dungeons of our memories and perhaps forgotten. I know that I won't feel the same in a few seconds, I would later tell myself that I have already lived through independence, and that is enough. Everyone of these people too, would convince themselves that the moment of unification and hope was an anomaly. But in each of our hearts we all would know, it is what we hope for our entire lives. Independence is not an event, it is a lifestyle.

I see the sky, the sun peeks from behind the horizon the light hits my face. There are clouds in the sky, and bars in my window, nevertheless, my nation is free.

1 comment:

  1. nice reading. but i can not visualise trees of all as free.chained to their duty of bringing up generation after generation of life, bound to mother earth and never being able to visit the places of sorrow and joy the messenger birds talk about.wouldn't that be slavery to one's fate.
    btw,i desperately want to know where exactly are you these days?i could do with your cell number if u could part with them:-)

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