August in Flames

“Dhruv is inviting me to join the Anna protests in the colony.” Spoke up Sitab yesterday.

“So go ahead.” I said absent mindedly.

“Why are they protesting ? Why are they holding those burning candles ?” He wanted to know.

That caught my attention. How does one explain to a ten year old about corruption, inflation and such like ? Yet, I tried and succeeded somewhere. At the end of the discourse, he understood why his bag of chips cost so much, why his glass of milk and eggs cost so much, and yes, why his burgers cost so much too.

He had made up his mind. He was joining the pro-Anna protests. He disappeared for the rest of the day, like he always does. And I went on with my usual activities of the day. I had an appointment scheduled for the evening, in the neighborhood beauty salon. I was hoping to be done with it soon, but it took ever too long. By the time I was paying up, I was already able to hear the pro-Anna slogans outside, in the street.

I stepped out in the darkness. And was engulfed in a sea of humanity. All carrying flickering, golden candles. The air throbbed with passion, with mass intensity. The darkness was aglow with raw enthusiasm. I felt electricity in the air – of synchronization, of thoughts, of voices, of intent.

And then I saw him. My Sitab.

He was walking with a group of young boys, of similar age group, holding a white candle clutched firmly in his hand. I saw his eyes shining bright, his cheeks flushed with happiness and excitement.

I heard someone say “Anna tum sangharsh karo” and then the little boys shouted in unison “Hum tumhare saath hain” over and over again.

And then “Vande Mataram !!”.

Why I felt sudden, inexplicable tears at that moment, I could not explain. I suppose because I thought of Anna’s face, kind, sweet and tender. He may be 74 years old, but he is as childishly obstinate as these boys, he is as stubborn as these little tykes who are shouting out their support for him. Or is it because I heard the timeless message written on the stars – that human spirit will always overcome, wherever, whatever.

Anna cannot hear these young voices, yet the pulsating energy generated by these passionate boys is enough to set the air on fire. This movement is gaining momentum, because this is the first social uprising since the freedom struggle that seeks to unite, and not divide. And humankind gains strength, whenever it gets united.

I thought of the extra baggage of cynicism that I have managed to lug around since some years. The resignation. The feeling of “This is the way it is, and this is the way it will remain.”
Hearing those strong, young voices in unison, for the first time in years, I felt the hardened shell of cynicism inside me chipping off finally.

I looked at Sitab again. He was blissfully unaware of me. For once, I did not feel like disturbing his reverie, by waving to him. I knew that the moment he would see me, he would feel shy, instantly.

So I walked on, on the soil of India, stumbling on the cobblestones, smiling at known faces, like we Indians often do.

Maybe we could die in peace now, now that we know that the future generation cares so much. For us. For the country. For India.