The I

Last night was phenomenal for me , the insomniac , i was watching news channels which were gearing up for Independence day celebration, other channels were untiringly promoting their talent hunt shows on patriotic themes.I got bored switched it off and settled on my couch with the days newspaper only to find that the situation is no different here.The papers ran special sections and columns about the tales of 60 years of independence.I thought better catch some sleep before witnessing another dawn than reading all these clichéd stories, stories which keep on appearing at this time of the year.So i retired to my bed.

I was still sleeping when somebody called for me.Yeah, i was sure that someone was calling for me so i payed attention to the voice which was getting louder and louder.The voice belonged to a woman, i can tell that, and it was husky too.I was wondering to whom it might belong when she said i am the I, i was going to pinch myself to get out of my delusions when she said can you tell my story to my people. At that moment the idea of being in delusion seemed to be more promising one then to be in the real world.The woman started with her story, here is the account of what i can recall. She said in her husky voice-

I am the I, the I of India who have always been special to her people.They have always given importance to the I and ignored the rest ndia. But i want them to understand that i am incomplete without the rest ndia. I want them to love India and not only I, the I which makes them selfish, which makes them think about their own interests, the I which represent their self , their ego.On the contrary I must represent India and nothing else. And so tell them what i ,the India have told you.

I am 60 years old or you can say 60 years young, it depends on your perspective. Sixty years ago they decided that i must pay a price for my freedom.They took my arm away but i thought may be its better to be silent then revolt. Soon a lunatic killed my favorite son ,the preacher of non-violence but i kept mum.I was ruled by many ranging from cambridge educated Nehru to pee toasting Desai, the soft shastri to tyrant Indira, the pilot Rajiv to kargil Atal, the kannad Gowda to Italian Sonia. But my journey remained painstakingly similar throughout.I was betrayed by chinese in 1962,and pakis in 1999 and i realised that nothing have changed. A tyrant used her powers to impose emergency for her self interest and i was helpless.Another did not used his powers to prevent the riots and i was still helpless.The bottom line is that only the players have changed but the game is still the same.

All of them have used the I and its other forms, me, my,myself but never a collective pronoun. In their thoughts it was always I , me , my race, my party,my powers.It was never like our India ,our people ,our power.The power which must have been shared remained with the few elite ones. My heart aches when these elite people divide the undivided and rule their divided minds. I have seen it all but i can see it no more. Please stop them from dividing, give me some peace, please forget the I and remember your nation, the India.

I was sweating when i woke up,the words from the woman still beating my eardrums,"the India". A sense of shame and pride filed me at that very moment, shame for being a selfish and uncaring son of my motherland, proud for still being her son.

Jai-Hind,

Khukii.