An aura of Independence

Celebrating I-Day in Australia is a far cry from the patriotic fervour one experiences back home, but it can still be an interesting experience pre-transmission coloured lines adorn the screen in mute, but once the DD logo began revolving on the screen, the volume was up and at 6am onwards, the entire household was roused through the national anthem, gun salute and sycophantic announcer explaining details of the ceremony at India Gate.

In my teens, I usually chucked a pillow over my head and tried to go back to sleep, but eventually the only other option was to wake up and hope that at least breakfast was an exciting one. Watching scenes unfold on the screen, the march pasts of various battalions, intricate dances performed by adept dancers arrayed in the colours of their State, the graceful, stately parade of gleaming machines of war, the bands resplendent in their uniforms and shining instruments performing solemnly, but with precision, on drums, bagpipes, trumpets and flutes, always captured my attention and filled me with patriotic pride. My brother, always a font of information, relevant or not, would lounge around reeling out facts and figures of the displays, which no-one but my mother actually listened to. After a few years of following the same rote, it was actually possible to sleep through the opening ceremony, particularly if my friends and I had indulged in our own private celebrations the night before, in anticipation of the next day being a holiday.

But when I moved to the Middle East and worked in Dubai, Independence Day suddenly took on a new significance. Perhaps not actually living in India made us feel more patriotic than usual, but with a number of Indians working in our department, the day was always looked forward to, and we would go the extra mile to celebrate the day. For starters, we would deck out in Indian clothes, and suddenly the normally drab office would look resplendent as people walked around in variously hued saris, salwars, churidars and bedecked themselves in amazing traditional jewellery. Mangalsutras, bindis and chunky kadha bangles that hadn’t seen the light of day in ages, beautifully complemented these outfits. Some of the guys enthusiastically decked themselves out in embroidered kurta-pyjamas and kolhapuri chappals, and a few of the more adventurous non-Indians would dress up too. And a few of the more enthusiastic or patriotic bedecked themselves in the colours of the Indian flag. But the best part was yet to come. Around lunchtime, a couple of us would sneak out to an Indian restaurant and buy a whole array of delicious vegetarian food from contributions collected the day before. We would then enjoy a sumptuous lunch of samosas, chaat, khandvi, dhokla, wadas, chutneys, various chaknas, while gulab jamun, cashew burfi and pedas provided a fitting end to the feast. We would then take a group picture to capture the moment, and lounge back to our desks, replete and happy to have celebrated I-day with vigour.

And now we’re in Australia, where our association with Independence Day is through the annual fairs held in mid-August. I have to admit we haven’t been enthusiastic in attending in past years. If we have felt brave enough to tackle the vagaries of weather (it inevitably rains when we decide to go), and the crowds (in which our kids try desperately to get lost), we end up sauntering in around late afternoon, and with our luck the exciting food is usually sold out. This year will be no different, if we finally decide to go. My husband will often wonder aloud why they don’t sell beer at the venue, I will want to visit all the stalls and buy all kinds of exciting overpriced handicrafts and a few clothes that I’ll never wear, the kids will demand ice-cream, fairy floss, face painting, or simply a play area where they can climb, wrestle, jump, roll and shout to their heart’s content.

But we’ll still briefly savour the experience of India, as enthusiastic groups of children perform various routines on stage, and classical dance and Bollywood are sure to figure in the programme. The cheerful noise of background music and announcements, the hustling and bustling crowds who always travel in the direction opposite to us, netas making speeches, aromas from food stalls filling the air….it will certainly be a taste of home. Perhaps it may not work in explaining the concept of India’s Independence Day to my inquisitive kids. But it will give them a glimpse of the tradition, heritage, variety and diversity that makes this great, free country. One that, as they grow older, they could learn to respect and admire, understand and perhaps even experience.

So I guess we’ll be buying our flags, battling traffic and joining the revels in the rain!