BENGALURU: India is my country, all Indians are my brothers are sisters’. For most people who grew up in my generation, these were the last lines of the Assembly. The Assembly itself was an event where children collectively pray to God to help them survive the day. For after the Assembly, came ‘punishment time’.
This was an era when it was alright for teachers to hit students. Remember, there were no gyms back then, so teachers kept themselves fit by practising wrestling on their students. By the time one stepped out of the assembly, it was a scene from National Geographic. Teachers waiting on the sides like lions, students trying to sneak into the classroom like buffaloes. Till one was caught and had the living daylights thrashed out of him.
The other role of the School Assembly was to infuse a sense of patriotism among us. The hoisting of the flag, and singing the national anthem in a hundred cracking voices. But apart from patriotism, Independence Day was about the sweets.
Ladoos and samosas packed in a tiny cardboard box. Candies from forgotten companies like Ravalgaon and Nutrine. Or that iconic candy - Maha Lacto - which could be chewed upon for an hour, and would then stick to your gums for another three months. Sweets had their own role in instilling patriotism in us.
Independence Day also came at a crucial time in the academic year. It was a welcome break from a new year of coursework, unit tests and assignments. The new academic year would begin in June, and respite came after two and a half months of new challenges.
Independence Day was also ritualistic. There was the flag-hoisting at the school, followed by the entire family watching the Independence Day parade on DD1. The parade commentary resembled that of third day’s Tea session of a Test Match - but they had our undivided attention. This was followed by patriotic films on cable television, a nap in the afternoon, and games in the evening. If the gods above were kind, Independence Day fell on a Friday or Saturday, and one got a few extra days off from the humdrum of school work. This was a time when Sachin Tendulkar and AR Rahman were not celebrities you followed on Instagram, but people who inspired patriotism in you.
One could accuse me of romanticising the past, but how guilty am I, really?
Independence Day is not half as fun as a grown up. (And since you, dear reader, are reading a humour column in a newspaper, I assume you are grown up.)
Today, one must slither one’s way into the holiday. Send the dreaded mail to your boss, request and plead for a leave like your father took a loan and did not repay it. Wrap up all the work for the 15th, and make sure everything is in place for the next day. I haven’t attended a single flag-hoisting ceremony since passing out of school.
The only people who seemed thrilled about Independence Day today were e-commerce sites. I was flooded with mails from clothing sites and messages from electronics sites. And a greeting from that one obscure app that I ordered three handkerchiefs from, four years ago. 50 per cent discount on a phone you don’t need, and 70% off on apparel that will make you look like a washed-out mannequin. My patriotism seemed to have reduced to swiping, scrolling and surfing.
Independence Day for me though will always be about the sweets. In fact, every time I stand up for the National Anthem before a movie begins, I invariably stretch my hand out for a sweet when the anthem ends!
The author is a writer and comedian