I happened to be in the village where I grew up, on 15th of August, 2012. The last time I was in my village on an independence day was in 1963.
What greeted Anna and myself early in the morning was the procession of children from one school along the mail central road bearing national flags, singing 'vande-matiram’ and raising patriotic slogans. We were enthused by the spirit of patriotism they conveyed. They and their teachers greeted us. One of the teachers remembered my mother who taught at this school and retired thirty years back.
What about the rest of the village! Three other schools did not show any sign of celebration. All the shops were open as usual for their business. People were indoors in a holiday mood. The liquor shop was open, although prohibited to do so on the independence day. There were two or three shops, which had the hoisted the national flag outside their shops. It was a still and sleepy day.
The previous independence day, when I was present in the village in 1963 was different. The street was decorated in tricolor with national flag hoisted outside every shop. Men and women had pinned the flag on their attire. All the five schools in the village had a joint celebration with the after noon spent in community service of cleaning the school campuses, visiting sick people in the village, distributing food to poor people, having an elocution competition on India as a nation, staff-student sports events, an exhibition foot ball match in the evening between staff in the schools and local foot ball team, etc.
In forty years, my village has lost something. It appeared dry of the spirit of togetherness and adventure of journey ahead as a nation. There was decadence and skepticism.
What cheered Anna and myself was the gesture of the shopkeeper, who came rushing to the school children in the procession, and offerred two containers of eclair chocolates to greet them. Even the spectators got their share including us.
But for witnessing this act of thoughtfulness, we too would have been submerged in a spirit of resignation. This revived our hope. Every act of kindness is like a corn of wheat that will sprout and bear corns in plenty in due season.
Awake, each of us is a means for change that we are looking for!
M.C.Mathew( text and photo)
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