By Savitri Narayanan
In honour of our 76th Independence Day, the whole nation had gone into a mood of celebration. There were flags everywhere – on rooftops, at the gates, on the vehicles, pinned on the pockets of the security staff and at the entrance to the nearby shops.
Glowing within with the freedom of a leisurely, retired life, I found myself seated in the balcony of my home in a Goan suburb with the cup of tea and the newspaper. As the crows got noisier, the sun slowly rose over the hills. As usual, a few sparrows flew into the balcony pecking at the grains waiting for them.
‘It’s only half past six, what do I do? How do I mark the day?’ crossed the mind.
Watching the TV programme of the direct telecast from the Red Fort was one option but not exciting enough! The thoughts raced past in reverse gear to all those school assemblies where the whole neighbourhoods converged for the Independence Day celebrations. It was a public function; nobody needed an invitation!
Whether the upper primary school in a back of the beyond village in Kerala or the urban schools in the crowded metropolis of Mumbai or the quiet schools in the foothills of the Himalayas, the sense of pride and joy in the air was universal! The sanctity of the occasion with an undertone of excitement, all eyes on the flag tied up on the flag-post with meticulous care and the HM respectfully unfurling the flag amidst resounding applause!
If only I could be in a school!
“Apologies if I’m waking you up, but this can’t wait!” I said over the phone.
“What happened?” asked my friend, concern in her voice, “Are you ok?”
“I’m longing to be in a school for the flag-hoisting!” I said.
“Boring to stay at home and watch the TV, I’d love some sunshine too!” agreed my friend. “The government primary school where my cook’s children go has the flag-hoisting at eight, would you like to go? If yes, be at your gate by quarter to eight!”
It was a small primary school catering to the neighbourhood. It had about thirty to forty students and four or five staff members. At the front gate stood the school captains with their well-oiled hair and neat uniforms. The students walked in ones and twos, holding on to their parents’ hands. The mothers too were dressed up for the occasion, draped in colourful saris and their hair adorned with flowers. As they escorted their children, some in oversized uniforms, some with colourful hair clips and ribbons, many with a flag in their hands, the pride of ownership was evident in the parents’ eyes.
Soon the assembly started and the flag was hoisted by the HM. Flower petals dropped on the ground as at the tip of the pole, the national flag danced in the breeze. The national anthem resounded in the air.
“Children, once upon a time India was not a free country,” the HM addressed the assembly. “Many of your grandparents and great-grandparents fought for our freedom for many years in many ways along with great leaders. Thanks to them, your parents and you were born in free India!”
The children listened respectfully and the HM continued, “Now our country has well-known scientists, industrialists, inventors and leaders; when you grow up, it’s up to you to take our country to greater heights. Do you think you can?”
“Of course, yes, madam!” came the answer from many lips.
The gathering smiled fondly as the school captains went around distributing sweets.
(The author is a retired educationist at present in Goa. A mother and a grandmother, loves reading, writing and travelling.)
