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I DREAM?


“Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny; and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.
A…”


“Wake up! You idiot.”

“How dare you interrupt free India’s first Prime Minister’s speech?”

My sister is in a hurry to leave the house. Parents out of station. Before she leaves the house, I must be awakened to do the morning chores. The house maid must be buzzed in. Plants in our garden must be watered. And of course, I have to go to the office.

A Prime Minister of a new born country being woken up cruelly when he is in the middle of waking up the whole country! The world has lost its sense of priorities and important issues.

“I will be home late. No dinner for me. Don’t you dare waste a second getting off that fart smelling bed.” She is quite nice, my sister, otherwise. Thud. The car moves hastily out on the street and I won’t see her until… an hour?

Okay, so as I was saying my fellow Indians,


“…  A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new – when an age ends, and…”


“Bhaiyya (Brother)! Open the door. Or I am moving on to the next house. Then don’t complain about the floor being unclean till late in the day.”

“Seriously, are you insane lady?” “Have you got the slightest clue what platform I am on, the hugeness of this moment. Years from now, students will be revising this speech on their hand-held devices, yes without wires, to be delivered in their school functions. After which their beaming parents will buy them their favourite game stations.

“I am leaving,” a blank threat issued.
"Forget it. Why would you care in 1947?” I open the door with heavy footsteps.

“I am sorry fellow parliamentarians. Back to work for ‘so-called larger issues’ as my sister terms it."


“ ...an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India, and her people, and to the still larger cause of humanity.”


I open one eye peeping over my blanket. “Really! No sound, nothing to remove, close, open or do?” Fine then.

“Aunty, don’t forget to switch off the heater before you leave and please water the plants. I’ll make sure you get a raise this month. Please, please.”

10:22! I jump with both eyes and feet taut. It’s funny how I precisely read the digital time display on the bedside table while I scramble out.



An hour late at the office, my peers look resigned and hopeless.

The day passes uneventfully except a dressing down from boss. Everyone on the other side of the glass cabin, that separated me and my boss from the office floor, were all eyes towards our figures. He was animated for the first 20 minutes or so, but regretfully, next was my turn. The soul suppressed found utterance and flung itself out for maybe larger cause of humanity.


...At the dawn of history India started on her unending quest, and trackless centuries which are filled with her striving and the grandeur of her successes and her failures...


As the newly elected president of the local residents’ association, I get embroiled in a plethora of allegations of ill-will and corruption. Me and the office-bearers come clean only to launch a fierce attack on our staunchest opponent groups. Some of these include my predecessors to the post. There is a history here and I cannot be an exception to the partisan legacy.

Half of society’s humanity smiled and the other half gave me middle-finger expressions as I walked the steps of success and failure back to my house.


...Through good and ill fortunes alike, she has never lost sight of that quest or forgotten the ideals which gave her strength. We end today a period of ill fortune and India discovers herself again...


Contemplating future careers, I walk back from office. I forget to buy vegetables. So, no dinner today. This was certainly not my first time. At the very moment I make the nation see the path of rejuvenation, my sister blasts me. So much for forgetting ill-fortune and discovering yourself.

I look around for help. The nation is hearing me with bated-breath, awaiting post British future. Much to my irritation, my sister, society and the boss (who I gladly gave back) continue to engage me trivially.

A parliament is not a place for all this? Aren’t there marshals or something to throw out people interrupting proceedings, that too, the Prime Minister?

Then a loud voice threatens. I realise I have no sister though I always had wanted one. An elder sister. I slipped. It wasn’t from a podium… a school bench?

Wait a minute. Am I wearing a frock?

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