I do not like the concept of ‘Har Ghar Tiranga‘. Nor do I like the concept of 75 years of independence ‘Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav’. Both in my view are meaningless. 75 years ago, we got Azadi. That chapter is over. There is no point in harping about the ‘sacrifices’ made! All those people who sacrificed their lives for Azadi ask one singular question: What are you doing with Azadi? In that answer lies the Amrit Mahotsav.
People invariably ask: Why don’t you like celebrating ‘Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav’? Are you not an Indian? Or are you not proud of being Indian? In reply, with all due respect I, in turn, ask…’Why should I be proud of being an Indian? What is that India has ever done for me? ‘I am an Indian by chance… not by choice!’
It is prohibited in India (and probably in any country) to ask what I asked above! This can be very easily construed as a blasphemous act against the Mother Land! Indian are taught “Ask NOT what the country has done for you; ask what you have done for the country”! Why should I not ask??? What is wrong with asking? In spite of the opposition, the relevance of the above statement remains.
I never choose my parents, or caste or religion or the country. I was never given the chance of choosing. They all happened by chance. They were not my choices. Among the four stated above – all can be changed, but the parents. I can change my religion or country or caste. But I cannot change parents. I must point out that I have not chosen India as my country and it was not even my last choice. My ‘Indianness’ was a chance happening. The country has not done anything to convert that chance happening into choice!
I also said even my parents are not my choice. This is absolutely correct. If I were given the chance to choose my parents…I could have chosen rich / famous parents. The gods gave no choice. However, my parents did a lot for me. They educated me; gave me a chance to develop; sent me to a college; they showered such an unfathomable powerful love; I am left with no other option but to voluntarily accept that I was wrong in saying ‘my parents were not my choice’.
Whatever I have done for this country I did as its slave…for I was taught by the society “Ask NOT what the country has done for you; ask what you have done for the country”! It took 75 years to muster courage to ask… “What is that India has ever done for me?” and “Why should I be proud to be an Indian?” If this is Azadi…then I am celebrating ‘Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav’.
Why should I love India, and why the f##k should feel proud of being an Indian? India has not done anything for me. It neither gave good education, not a good house, nor good employment… Seeing the life around today, I am not even proud of being a human…let alone Indian! The writing on the wall is clear… I can never feel proud of being an Indian. India has never done anything to leave me with an option to voluntarily accept that I was wrong in saying ‘my country was not my choice’.
Celebrating ‘Har Ghar Tiranga’ is like visiting a temple without devotion. No benefit accrued. Like passing an examination without knowledge. Everything is lost. Har Ghar Tiranga is a physical activity. Here one is involved in a physical activity of hoisting the flag at home. This physical activity certainly will not open my heart to tiranga or India. Our ancestors have done enough for the tiranga and India! Now it is the turn of India to do something for us all. Only then will be …Har Dil Tiranga! Now do you understand why I do not feel proud of being an Indian?
About the Author
Dr. K. Raja Gopal Reddy is a seasoned internationally qualified Insurance professional.
What you are reading here, may not answer all the questions we have, but has the absolute power of asking unsettling questions which increase the interest in the strange world, and show the contradictory wonders lying just below the surface of the commonest things of life. Look at this disturbing but beautiful thought of Friedrich Nietzsche “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him”.
Dr. Reddy can be reached at: raja66gopal@gmail.com
