I proudly watched the defense forces parade past my lane as I stood on a parked scooter a few yards away from the marching forces. I reinvented the lax necessity of witnessing a parade being a citizen of this republic.
Before today I had watched a live parade but I cannot trace the number of years that have passed since then. As I climbed on the scooter and watched the smartly dressed young men and women pass by I realized how ludicrously I had missed showering the accolade on the young patriots.
My eyes kept shifting from the performers to the audience. How each one struggled to get a glimpse of the march past was appalling. It was at that moment that I felt envious of the young marchers… I thought of the pride they could boast of being a part of the parade as people crowded around just for a glimpse of them…they were the people in whose hands we Indians had placed our faith. I wished I could be a part of that march past and be on the receiving end of the admiration.
On a greater shift of focus I was overwhelmed to see that people actually climbed up terraces and hoardings to be testimony to the parade. Irrespective of their age, faith, belief, they were all huddled up to experience the march of the republic. Kids sitting on strong shoulders, ladies ascended on walls, young boys packing themselves on trees and even sadhus making their way through the crowd with Indian flags hadn’t been a common sight for me before.
I realized that all this while I had under estimated the real
PROUD TO BE AN INDIAN.