One India

When we hear Kailash Kher, or Sukhvinder Singh, Sunidhi Chowhan, old timers like Chanchal, Ila Arun, Subha Mudgal, Bhupen Hazarika some thing sqeezes your heart, the rustic chords, notes, an ability to creep into your subliminal of your nature, the very Indianness, sweet smell of a mud, the twirly wind of a desert, the wavering yearning of mind dangling between possession and desertion, the strange relation between being and fading, turbulance and silent deep under current, the awareness of dusky twilight, the innate cognizance of of the beginning and termination grips our soul. The wisdom passed through generations awakens with a jolt. The exotic learning look so shallow and empty.

We never think whether this particular singer is from Punjab or Rajasthan,TamilNadu or Assam. It is the Indian music that captivates you, whether it is "Rubba, Rubba" or "Lal Mere", "Bandhure" or "Ammadi" that enthralls you equally. Whether it is banks of Brahmaputra, or Ganga, Narmada or Kaveri you feel you are wandering on the heart of India. The grandeaur of Chola temple at Thanjavur or Mount Abu, Konarak or Khajuraho you are collecting the memories of past Indian architectural splendour. Whether it is Himalaya or Aravali, Nilgiris or Eastern Ghats you are scaling the great Indian mountain range . Whether it is sweating Jaisalmir desert or snowy Kashmir, deep Bay of Bengal or Arabian sea you experiencing the great Indian diverse ecology. Whether it is Archids of Kalimpong or Kurinji malar of UdagaMandalam we are wondering at the great biodiversity of this land. Whether it is Tirumala temple or Golden temple or St. Francis at Goa we bow our head to the thier holy presence. Whether it is Surat diamond or Hyderabad pearl, ruby of Rajasthan or corals of Lakshadweep we adorn them with same penchant. Whether it is paanipuri of Rajasthan or Rasgolla of Bengal, Idli vada of Tamil Nadu or banana chips of Kerala, Paneer butter masala of Punjab or Dhokla Gujarat we relish with great taste

Be it Tagore, or Arundhati Roy, Vinod Dham or Sachin Tendulkar, Amartya Sen or Visvesvarayya, C.V. Raman or Sameer Bhatia, Vishwanathan Anand or Lakshmi Nivas Mittal, all were applauded who made India proud. We adore all great musicians like M.S.Subba Lakshmi, Balamurali, BhimSen Joshi, Ravi Shanker, Amjad Ali Khan, Bismillah Khan irrespective of their school of music.We never attempt to see which state they belong to, or which language they speak, which religion they belong to. They made us proud. The hetrogenous mix that makes our life colourful . The Indianness which we all enjoy.One great admission of divergent faculties. One thing which we can call ours.One great liking we all share.One Indian application, the great familiarity, the great cosy feeling, the unique oneness, the chemistry, the great comfort in dealing, that keep us binding.

The photo of Christ which was presented to my mother by her Ceylone Christian friend always hung to our wall, and I grew up with it's everlasting presence. The copy of Koran always laid in father's trunk who had a jeal to study all the religious books in depth. My child hood trips to Christian Prayer Halls with my Christian friend were filled with thrills and wonder for the array of candles lightened up , the whole of town conglomerated to "Urs" celebrations by muslims of the town to watch their walk on the fire. I felt bad and devasted for loosing my friend Muneer who departed on account of a transfer. No body ever felt threatened. We never felt triumphed. We never prayed their Gods, but never condemned them. We just took them as natural parts of our existence. We never practised Pseudo secularism with persisting consciousness about the other man's religion. No body ever tried to talk about their seperate identity , they were just absorbed in the system.

Now we are too concerned about our caste, creed. We are grouping , regrouping and excessively polarised. There is great divide between the states. We are caught up with raging regionalism, fanatism. The entire social fabric is perforated, mutilated and stained with blood. The differences are fanned, fuelled and encouraged by the self seeking politics. There is great amount of alienation, hatred, intolerence. What happened to that great democratic setup of India? What is happening to us? Any patriotic soul is stiffled with pain with the developments . The heart of this great mother land is parched, burrowed, quarried, and sharpenelled to the point of explosion.

I gather the mud, sand, pebbles, rubbles in my both the hands and ask my self "Who can save this land?" Certainly not us ,who ungreatfully thought at one time that taking birth in India was a curse. Not even these old sharks who are in perennial hunt for their pound of flesh.. Slowly I am able to figure out the saviour faces. The hazy pictures are taking into shape. The innumerable numbers, the crazy lot, the electrified sea of humanity, who are jumping, screaming, excited. It is the youth of India!! Surveys show that 93% of them are proud to be born in India, their young fresh minds still believe that there is no other country like India. The gen Y who can dare to dream big and show to the world that it is force to be reconed with. A faithful league which is proud to be labelled as Indians!!