Why I die a thousand deaths when someone claps for Raj Thackray.

He said ‘Swaraj is my birth right and I shall have it.’ And they clapped.
He said ‘Inquilab Zindabad.’ And they chanted in unison.
He said ‘Quit India’. And they threw themselves in the movement.
He said ‘as the world sleeps this midnight hour, India awakes.’ And we declared ourselves Indians. Free.

What a bloody waste of time and effort that was. Those men and the generations who followed them into getting us a country. A free country. 595 states fought each other for their little princedoms. The British smiled. Who needs to conquer a country where people are more than eager to kill each other anyway. Lets just pit them against each other and soon they will be parasites unable to breathe without us. What a farsighted people the British were. We meet their expectations even today.

It would have been better if Marathis, Biharis, Punjabis, Tamilians had fought and got their own individual independence. We would be spared the trouble of uniting billions and then dividing them again in less than 50 years of getting that bloodsoaked freedom.

Today we clap for Raj Thackray. So by that logic Gandhi should have asked only for the freedom of Gujarat. Why did he waste his time touring every village in every corner of India and striving for their freedom as well. Bhagat Singh was then, a regional leader who was only moved by the death of Sikhs in Jallianwala Baug. What did he care about the rest of us. And the Swaraj Lokmanya Tilak was referring to was actually the right of Marathi speaking people to live and work exclusively in their state. And the biggest loser was Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel. Poor old man spent his energy uniting people speaking more than 18 Languages, following more than 8 religions and ruled by more than 500 princes. Sorry Sardar, but we don’t want to live as one nation. We want to live in our own narrow mini countries where we all speak the same language, wear the same clothes, eat the same food, pray to the same God. Whoever said there is beauty in diversity, forget about unity. So what if nature herself thought it important to have different species of everything to sustain and make this planet as lovely as it is.

Maybe we don’t fully realize what we have because we got it for free. You and I had to pay nothing to become free. So it is not worth much to us. Free Indians are the world’s most thankless lot. What was handed down to us was not pieces of land to which we could claim ownership. Freedom was an opportunity to now live and work for ourselves, not as individuals or communities but as a nation that could write its own destiny. It was the responsibility to now work for progress, not mine and my brother’s but of all those who are the children of our founding fathers.

Sorry you people died for us. Sorry, but we didn’t want any of this. Actually we are not worthy of your sacrifice. Because the colonial ghosts are now such a part of us that we will speak in English but not in an Indian language that is not our mother tongue. We don’t mind migrating to another country if brings us prosperity. But letting another Indian set foot in our state, no sir that’s not done. And how can the Brits or the Yankees blame us for taking away their jobs? That is against the spirit of freedom, isn’t it? We want open societies to accept us, be we certainly cannot become one. And don’t even start about culture. We respect our gods so much that every Ganeshotsav we coerce people into paying for our booze for those 10 days. And we even beat our drums and bollywood item numbers in the immersion procession so loud especially when it passes a mosque. Ganapati loves this kind of hooliganism. (Maybe because nobody told you that Ganapati is North Inidan himself, he is Shiv and Parvati's son no? So is Gautam Buddha, Ram and Krisna.) We also celebrate these festivals where ever we go, to Delhi, Hyderabad, Banglore or United States of America. But hey you cant have Chatt puja in my land. That is not MY festival, and you will corrupt my culture by praying to YOUR god. Your festivals have political agendas, mine are plain faith even if large political cut-outs are used for decoration. And you spoil my city with your slums and cabs and pan shops. So what if I cannot do without my maid or driver and I will not pay them enough so they can live in flats. I keep their income low and blame them for it. I will buy from the hawker who sells his wares cheaper than the authorized store no matter what his origin even if he encroaches public space. These are economic choices I make because they benefit me. I see no hypocrisy in it.

And Oh!The IT park in Banglore. I will now settle in Bangalore. I will call it Bangalore not Bengaluru. Nice weather, lovely city. And yes the meaty job. So what if that is not my home state. This is my country off course, I don’t need a visa. Oh please, I am not taking away the Kannadiga’s job. Its an opportunity I cant miss. Oh my god, they expect me to speak Kannada? That’s a bit much na!. They must think of the migrants who’s mother tongue is not Kannada. But I will teach my children Marathi and we will form a Maharashtra Mandal so we can have cultural programmes together. Oh no, I am not hurting their culture, I am just preserving mine. Oh what double standards we have.

And yes my relatives from America who cannot speak one clean Marathi sentence are more Indian than my neighbour from Bihar. The rich can migrate off course and become richer. But the poor cannot. They are condemned to die poorer, where they are born. The fruits of freedom are for those who can afford them.

This then is what we made of our freedom. The right to exclude. To take but not to share. Who’s pride is it when Amartya Sen was awarded the Noble. Certainly not Maharashtra’s, he is not Marathi. Marathis should not join the Armed forces and die needlessly for North Indians or any other Indians.

So what if the politician who I cheer for protects the very slums he blames for making my city ugly. So what if he says they are taking away my jobs when he took money from me to bring them back, and brought Micheal Jackson to perform ‘culturally rich’ entertainment from it instead. His men bash the poor cabbies, and enlist them a day later into his party. He allows the migration of Marathis to far away suburbs so he can build homes for the rich on prime plots. Those who buy the up-market homes need not be Marathi mind you. This two faced bigot is our Hero.

No city in the world is migration proof. Opportunity attracts people, its simple economics. The city needs them as much as they need the city. That we did not plan well to accommodate those who run our machine is our fault not theirs. That real estate prices remain high to benefit few while the majority lives in sub-human conditions is proof of our misplaced priorities.

In an age when we are moving briskly towards achieving economic well being, such divisive elements work overtime to make us sick, Thackray or Azmi or whatever name they answer to. Empowering the weak to face the strong is one thing, creating artificial and emotional ridges for political gain is quiet another.

Children of independent India inherit the duty of Nation building. To pool together our strengths for common good of all of us. To prosper as a people who are born with different abilities and resources but aid each other in hitting the goal. To further the struggle for Independence, to get freedom form economic and social bondage. If we choose to now break ourselves up into groups of language, religion, class or caste there cannot be a bigger slap on our own faces. If a Maharashtra can be exclusively for Marathis, soon a proud Konkani will bring the Western Ghats to divide Konkan from rest of Maharashtra. And soon the townies will see themselves as different from the suburbanites. There can be no end to fragmentation. It takes courage to unite, not to divide.

So when we applaud someone who is reciting the story of our own doom, I cannot but marvel at the orator’s magical spell, and the audience’s dim wit. And I die one more time remembering the real Heroes who now have to share their league with those who are out to undo their work.

- Prachi Jawadekar Wagh
The struggling poet says, 'lessons from history we shall not learn, we are cursed to light our own pyre and burn’
4 May 2008