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Re-blogged: Mother India visits


Hey folks,

I wrote this post on the other blog for Blogadda’s weekend prompt, Write over the Weekend, ‘

It is the night of August 14th. You are sleeping peacefully until a lady, who identifies herself by the name of Mother India, wakes you up and starts talking. What does she talk to you?

For some reason or another, I couldn’t link it up to Blogadda’s prompt and guess, there was some technical glitches. Here’s reproducing the post here. Hope you enjoy reading.

Cheerz

V

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Mother India visits

I am carrying the Indian tri-color in my hands at Red Fort in Delhi, running with pride as the mammoth crowd clap for me as I dash around the venue, running through the vast swathe of humans. Suddenly, I over hear AR Rahman voice, singing in my ears, ‘Maa Tujhe Saalam.’ It feels like a lullaby.

 I turn around and saw myself on the bed. Somebody caresses my forehead. I look up to see a beautiful and attractive lady in her late 60s, smiling to me. ‘How can anyone be so perfect and divine?” I ask myself.
I am astounded and look around the room. “Who are you? What are you doing in the house?” She sports an angelic smile and caresses my forehead, “Beta! I am Mother India.”

Mother? What? India! How can it be?

 Everything is possible, son. Haven’t you been calling and imploring for my presence? I know what my child wants. Listening to my songs on your computer, standing in deference to me, watching Jnana Gana Mana, Aye Mere Watan Ke Logon, Saare Jahan se Acha Hindustan Hamara, Aye Mere Watan Ke logon and Dil Diya hai Jaan bhi Denge Aye Watan Tere liye on You Tube. What do you think? I can see the tears rolling down your cheek when you think about me?

“You? Mother India. Do you know…..?”

 “I know everything, Beta. Your dedication and love for me. Some call me, Dharti Maa, some Mother India?”

I can’t control my tears. Mother India, you don’t know what these people are doing? Fighting and killing each other in the name of religion and caste, raping innocent girls, exploiting women, dirtying India. How can we be united? Why don’t you do something?”

Mother India makes me sit and hold my hand. “My son! What’s the point of standing in deference in front of my image and singing my anthem, Jnana Gana Mana with pride twice a year when they abuse me and break my heart? They don’t understand and think they can fool me. I know everything.”

 “What don’t you do anything?”, I ask.

“I am angry at every point when I see how they abuse me. They throw their filth in river Ganga and at holy places where I am present. For how long, I can sustain abuse? Sadly, so many people lost their lives in Uttarakhand last year and every monsoon, lives are lost. They don’t realize that they are the ones who took innocent lives. I feel so hapless. My heart cries when I see so many atrocities when people don’t respect their wives and daughters, destroying their souls.”

Mother India bears her heart out. “May be, they don’t realize it. When they jump on the ground like crazy, I feel the power of their legs on my soul. I am happy when I see them stomping their feet in joy but it hurts me when they use violence in their acts. When they kick someone, I feel the pain inside my body and soul.”

“Mother India, why don’t you do something?”

“Sometimes, people need to realize on their own, what they are doing. All of you must do something to make India a better place to live. It’s very easy to criticize me. I can be ruthless at times. I may be ugly but that doesn’t mean you should stop loving me. You speak of finding another attractive Mother, going to a new land but, if you don’t anything to make your mother loving, who will? Be the change. You will win my heart when all my children will teach each other love when stoking up communalism, casteism and sexism will be a thing of the past, respecting each other in a world filled with love and peace.”

“Son, I know what you are thinking? If you wish for something with your heart, you will get it. I know you really want to come to me. I know you will. I will always call you for a mother never stops loving her children.”

I smile. Mother India disappears.

Author:

Work-in-progress, seeker, and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian!!!

8 thoughts on “Re-blogged: Mother India visits

  1. Lovely post, Vishal. Apt questions & concerns raised…
    I am sure this must have won the WOW.
    I wanted to write for this too.
    But, had written another Independence Day Special one & linked it to Ruchira’s prompt…

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