By Roli Shukla
I was born about two decades later following India’s Independence in 1947, into a generation that inhaled freedom with its very early breath. For us, patriotism was not a slogan; it was the air we breathed. The tricolour fluttering in the morning breeze, the stories of sacrifice whispered by parents and teachers, the collective pride of belonging to an ancient civilisation that had reclaimed its destiny after centuries of subjugation—these were not abstract ideas. They were realities. India was not merely a country; Bharat was an emotion, and Bharat Mata was a living presence in our hearts.
As decades passed, the world changed rapidly. Industrialisation accelerated, technology shrank distances, and globalisation blurred boundaries. The youth of the nation began to look outward—to newer opportunities, newer ideas, and newer heroes. This was neither unnatural nor wrong. Every generation must reinterpret the world in its own language. Yet, somewhere along the way, the quiet confidence in our own civilisational roots began to weaken. Ancient texts were dismissed as irrelevant, classical thinkers were forgotten, and indigenous knowledge systems were overshadowed by narratives that appeared more “useful” in a modern, industrial world.
Today, standing at the crossroads of generations, the question arises: how does one kindle a sense of pride in India and Indianness in the heart of a youth who lives in a hyperconnected, globalised world? How do we persuade the young mind that loving India does not mean rejecting the world, and that national pride is not an outdated emotion but a powerful foundation for global engagement?
On Republic Day, as we celebrate the adoption of our Constitution, this question becomes even more urgent. This essay is not an appeal to blind nationalism. It is an invitation—to understand why India as a republic and its leadership, is not a burden of the past, but a powerful inheritance for the future.
At a time when many countries believed democracy could not survive in a large, illiterate, and plural society like India, India proved otherwise. Language, religion, caste, region, and culture could have torn us apart. Instead, the Constitution became our common ground. It did not erase differences; on the contrary, it protected them. A young person must accept that India being a Republic is not a ceremonial title—it is a profound statement of identity. A republic means that power does not belong to a monarch, a dictator, or a privileged elite. It belongs to the people. Every Indian, regardless of birth, wealth, religion, language, or gender, is an equal stakeholder in the destiny of the nation.
For a young citizen, this idea is empowering. It tells them that their voice matters, that their choices shape the future, and that their responsibilities are inseparable from their rights. When we explain the Republic of India in these terms, it stops being a chapter in a civics textbook and becomes a personal truth: India is not something that exists outside me; India exists because of me.
India is not just a nation-state born in 1947. It is a continuation of an ancient civilisation that has asked fundamental questions for thousands of years: Who am I? What is the truth? What is duty? How should power be exercised? Etc.
Ancient Indian knowledge systems—whether in philosophy, medicine, governance, mathematics, or linguistics—were not relics meant to compete with modern science, but foundations meant to evolve with time. They encouraged inquiry, debate, and adaptability. The tragedy was not that the world moved forward, but that we Indians or Bhartiya people were made to believe that our own intellectual heritage had nothing to contribute to the world’s development, so the youth of India often associate the past with irrelevance. To them, ancient knowledge seems disconnected from modern realities. The mistake lies not in their thinking, but in how the past is presented to them. India is not just a young republic, as is often perceived; it is an ancient civilisation with an unbroken intellectual tradition. Long before modern universities existed, India had centres of learning that attracted scholars from across the world. Long before modern medicine, economics, or linguistics took shape in Europe, Indian thinkers had already explored these domains with remarkable depth. The key is not to romanticise the past blindly, but to show its continuity. When a young person of India realises that critical thinking and scientific temperament are not all Western imports but intrinsic to India’s intellectual DNA, a quiet pride begins to take root.
Nothing resonates with the young mind more powerfully than stories of courage. India’s soldiers—past and present—offer such stories in abundance. From the freedom fighters who stood unarmed against empires to the modern-day soldier guarding icy frontiers and hostile borders, the Indian soldier embodies sacrifice and appropriate action without spectacle.
To a youth, these soldiers are not distant heroes; they are young men and women not very different from themselves—dreamers who choose duty over comfort, service over safety. When we speak of India’s armed forces, not in terms of conflict but in terms of responsibility and restraint, the youth begins to understand India’s unique moral position in global geopolitics.
India does not seek domination; it seeks stability. It does not export chaos; it advocates dialogue. This maturity in statecraft, forged through centuries of civilisational experience, gives India a distinctive voice in world affairs, even today.
In today’s interconnected world, youth of a nation are naturally curious about global power dynamics. They see superpowers rising and falling, alliances shifting, and conflicts erupting across continents. In this landscape, India stands as a nation that combines demographic strength, economic potential, democratic values, and cultural depth.
India’s global stature does not come from aggressive expansionism but from its ability to balance diversity with unity. Few nations manage such internal complexity without fragmentation. India does—not because it is perfect, but because its foundational philosophy accepts pluralism as strength, not weakness.
Explaining this to a young person helps them see that India’s importance in the world is not accidental. It is the result of resilience, adaptability, and an inclusive vision that allows multiple identities to coexist under one national umbrella.
One of the greatest misconceptions among the youth is that embracing Indian identity limits global relevance. The truth is the opposite. The world respects those who know who they are. A youth who understands India’s philosophical outlook—its emphasis on harmony, balance, and coexistence—approaches the global stage with confidence rather than imitation. Such a young citizen does not feel inferior nor superior, but equal. They can learn from Edison and Einstein while also valuing indigenous wisdom. They can speak English fluently while cherishing their mother tongue. They can adopt modern technology without losing ethical grounding.
This balance is India’s greatest gift to its youth.
When Republic Day of India is celebrated with parades and speeches, for a young mind, it should become a day of introspection. It should be a reminder that freedom was earned, rights were hard-won, and democracy survives only when citizens remain informed and engaged.
When a youth realises that being Indian is not just about inheritance but about participation, pride transforms into purpose. The Republic then becomes not a historical event of 1950, but a living promise renewed every day.
To convince a youth to care about India, we must first respect their intelligence. We must speak to them not with nostalgia alone, but with reason, relevance, and realism. India is not great merely because it is ancient, nor important only because it is large. India matters because it offers the world a model of unity without uniformity, strength without aggression, and progress without cultural amnesia.
For me, as someone who has seen India evolve across decades, the Republic of India is my identity and my pride because it represents continuity amid change. For the younger generation, India can become their pride too—not as a borrowed emotion, but as a discovered truth. My appeal to the younger generation is simple: Do not inherit India passively. Engage with it actively. Understand it deeply. Improve it fearlessly.
When a young man or woman finally realises that loving India does not mean living in the past, but shaping the future, the purpose of Republic Day is fulfilled. Republic of India — My Identity, My Pride!
(Roli Shukla is an Author and Educator based in Thane, Maharashtra.)
