I am sure we know why Makar Sankranti [known as different names in different parts of the country] is celebrated. Apart from the climatic and the religious reasons, we celebrate as it is mark of the Harvest Season.

“Pongali” is made from the freshly harvested rice, to amplify its importance. Thus Sankranti is a celebration of the hard work of the entire year where our agriculturists have sown the seeds of hard work, labour so that they and we enjoy the produce of it.

If we use the same logic, then why should one celebrate Republic Day? To celebrate the servitude towards the preamble of the constitution. I received a call in the morning. “Hey are you going to your Ngo today? I’ll also tag along. It’s republic day na?” How unfortunate!

Republic day is not to do show how patriotic we are on this one day? To stand up and feel the jitters for those Fifty two seconds as the national anthem is being sung.

It is a festival to celebrate our servitude towards the preamble of our constitution throughout the year.

Have we? Partly yes, as we have been secular towards our own brothers in other cities and partly no, because we have not been secular to others in our own cities!

How funny right? The Chittu, Lucky, Bittu, Meenu as kids grow up and become averse to each others’ culture and religion. We argue/fight/bully  without reminiscing the bliss of ignorance of our respective identities we did as children.

Manu Joseph, author of Serious Men, in a review of the movie Ra.One had said “Is there any other country in the world where one half is clueless of the second half?”

Ironic! We claim to be republic right after the Salman Rushdie episode which underlined the fact that we are not  constitution-driven but a mob-driven thus undermining two of our constitutional rights.

This is a poem written long ago [Not on Republic Day of course].

“Hi! What’s your name?” He asked
I replied: “I am Naumene”
“You are Naumene.. what?” He re-asked
“Naumene.. just Naumene” I replied

He enquired “You must be from the south,
Which state are you from?”
I replied: “I am a citizen of this country”
And he was upset at his clairvoyance.

Perseverant, He asked, where were you born ?
I replied : In Lundhiana, Punjab
He said: oh! Punjab da Putthar you are!
I replied: No, Indian, I jubilantly warned

He asked: “where were you brought up”
“in Jaipur, Rajasthan,” I announced
He replied: Oh! Rajasthani and I replied: Indian
Disappointed, Knowledge about my origin, he chose to Denounce

For the last time, he gathered courage and asked : Acha, schooling?
I replied: Darjeeling and he said: Oh! Are you from the hills?
I replied: no, I’m an Indian
Impatiently, he screeched: what is the origin of your being?

Just then, I got a call and the phone read: Ammi Calling
He said: Oh! You are muslim? I said: No! Indian
He said: It is written as Ammi
I said: I call my father as : Nanagaru
And my grandmother beeji
And my sister as chechi
He was confused and left me, an Indian alone.