KOCHI: While many people have only blurred memories of the days that led to India’s independence, citizens who remember that time, beam with pride and achievement. Some also introspect on the meaning of freedom, grappling with the question — have we really acieved complete freedom?
As we step into the 78th year of Independence, TNIE reaches out to people who witnessed India awakening to life and freedom on August 15, 1947.
M K Sanoo, writer, critic
I was a college student when we got independence from the British rule. In my hometown of Alappuzha, the celebrations were boundless. Flags and decorations adorned every corner. At that time, radios were not yet common, so my friends and I walked several miles to hear the All India Radio broadcast. The broadcast began with the songs of Dileep Kumar Roy, followed by the news of India’s independence. We listened keenly as Nehru’s famous speech — “Tryst with Destiny” — began. I vividly remember the emotion in the air. Each of us felt a deep sense of joy and pride. It was a moment of hopeful anticipation, a new dawn. That day, every publication carried the historic news, and the Indian flag was prominently featured on front pages. Eminent writers expressed high praise for the country’s promising future. However, one particular piece caught my attention— a few lines by poet Changampuzha. He said:
“Irulokkeyum poyo, pokumo,
(Has the darkness gone, or will it ever go?)
Nilaikkumo teruvin njarakkangal”
(Will the hardships and sorrows of the streets be over)
Swathanthryam kilirkkumo?
(Will freedom blossom?)
These words still hold prominence. Have we achieved freedom in every sense? Things have changed, people have everything they need. But division and communalism have increased. Decades ago, we used to criticise the flaws of religion freely. Now, does anyone have the courage to do so? The fear is palpable.
Prabhakaran M, ENT Surgeon
I resided in Gudiyatham, near Vellore. The British believed that the Indians were under them. This mindset of obedience was seen in households, where the youngest should listen to elders and follow their orders without questioning. The Britisah put us down so that we never resort to revolution. But brave men and women fought for our freedom such as Tiruppur Kumaran — who with a flag, ran on the road, and then he was shot dead — and Bharathiar who said ‘Suthananthiram adaindhe theervom’ (Attaining freedom is the end). Until the Quit India Movement in 1942, the terms ‘freedom’ and ‘independence’ did not reach the villages. With this movement, the preparation for Indian Independence took full swing. I remember the kids were not involved in the discussions. Until 1945, I did not understand what freedom was. Whenever I saw someone talking about it, I saw the British officers beating them up with a cane. But I remember that day of independence — in the morning, at home, we hoisted a flag by tying a stick to our gate. At school, we pinned the national flag to our shirts, held the flag high and went on a procession. Even after obtaining independence, we shouted ‘Suthananthiram adaindhe theervom’ on the road. Following this, we joined the crowd at Gowndanya Mahanadhi, a tributary of the Palar River. People gathered there and played patriotic songs on the radio. For the next few years, we celebrated the day as we celebrated Pongal or Diwali.
Padma Subrahmanyam, dancer
I was just about four years old in 1947. My mother had composed a nursery rhyme for me — ‘Pachchai vellai sivappu varna kodi namakku thanthar thatha (a green, white and saffron flag was given to us by Gandhi). I sang that in school also. My father made a film called ‘Geeta Gandhi’, released in 1948, in which I had a role. I sang this song live. Elders who visited my home used to bring little flags, and my younger brother and I used to run for that. We felt so proud to pin it on our dresses. We always looked for Independence Day as my father used to take us around the entire city that used to be lit up so beautifully. My father was a Congressman, so I grew up with deiva bakthi (devotion to god) and desa bakthi (devotion to the country). It is a day to remember and to be proud of.
G Devaki Amma, recipient of the Indira Priyadarshini Vrikshamitra Award and the Nari Shakti Puraskar
I was just twelve years old then. At that time, the concept of freedom felt strange. These terms were new, particularly for women whose lives were confined to homes. Well, it was truly beyond our imagination. Though I didn’t fully grasp the significance of the day, I felt a deep sense of joy and pride. One reason was my elder brother, who had participated in several protests and had even been imprisoned for the freedom movement. That day, I participated in a school march. We walked in a line, chanting ‘Bharath Matha Ki Jai’, and one student was even dressed as Bharath Matha. These are cherished memories from that historic day. Today, I am once again thinking of that once strange concept of freedom. I would say that conditions have certainly improved — people now have access to footwear, food, and roads. However, freedom is still an ongoing quest. Women today are more free than in the past. However, more progress is needed for true equality.
Sreekumaran Thampi, lyricist, music director, screenwriter
“When India gained independence, I was in Class IV. Back then, the matrilineal system was prevalent. However, my father insisted that we move to his house for a while. They, too, followed the matrilineal system, making us feel like uninvited guests there. During this time, Independence Day arrived, and I was actually experiencing three months of slavery at my father’s house. One day at school, the teacher announced, ‘Tomorrow is Independence Day’. All students will receive the Tricolour that day. However, to get one, you need to bring one ‘ana’ (six paise). Knowing that my mother did not have any money, I didn’t even ask her. On what should have been my first Independence Day celebration, I was punished for not bringing that six paise, and the teacher made me stand outside. I spent the entire day on the school veranda. While everyone else was rejoicing, my own freedom was denied. And it occurred to me: ‘This freedom they speak of, is it something you only get when you can pay for it? It doesn’t come freely, does it?’ I learnt that freedom has a price, and that price can bring sorrow. Later in life, I realised how true that was. Freedom is indeed very costly.
Inputs from Sonu M Kothari, Mahima Anna Jacob, and Parvan K B