Subir Roy:Restricted independence

OFFBEAT

If you were one of midnight's children or thereabouts, you had a problem. You grew up in free India but colonial rule was a reality until the other day, and not something picked up from history books.

So, one of the first questions I asked my father was, how was it like to be ruled by the sahibs? He had a problem too as I was not quite 10. Concepts like fundamental rights and equality before the law were difficult to explain.

So political freedom came to mean to me what made life as it was, the normal way to be. Foreign rule was alien, independence was here and now, taken for granted, and Independence Day was a day when everyone was on leave and you went out as a family and had loads of fun.

This was different from Republic Day, which was reserved for something more specific "" being taken out early in the morning to see the parade on Kolkata's Maidan.

The ritual was repeated when our children arrived and we relocated to Delhi. Republic Day again meant going out to see the parade, the best in the country.

Only, you had to remember to arrange the passes for the Press gallery that was bang opposite the saluting base and gave the best view.

And since you invariably left things till the moment before deadline, chances were you found that access to South Block, where the defence PRO's staff gave out the cards, out of bounds because of rehearsals for Beating Retreat.

There was also no change in the ritual for Independence Day. You went out as a family, spoilt the children a little and had lots of fun either visiting one of the overcrowded parks or simply stopping somewhere for ice cream and chaat.

As this Independence Day approached and the hawkers at traffic lights sold tricolours big and small, the pattern seemed unbroken.

The day dawned normal. The Bangalore sky was typically overcast, not knowing when it would decide to drench you. The odd mother in the neighbourhood accompanied her child to play school for flag hoisting.

The children of the neighbouring blind school vigorously sang patriotic songs by the roadside at their flag hoisting. And our neighbour's daughter tried long and fruitlessly to put a flag out from their balcony, which perversely refused to keep its head up.

As lunch time approached we couldn't help recalling how it used to be such fun when we were all younger and went out on Independence Day to do nothing and have ice cream. I was game but tried not to act as a spoilsport while voicing a nagging fear.

We can go out but maybe avoid crowed places as you never know when a bomb would go off. The papers for the past few days had been full of stories about terrorist alerts and maximum security deployment.

So we gave up the idea of going out as the fun was really in mingling with joyful carefree crowds. It is then the meaning of freedom dawned on me. You are hard put to explain it when it is there and life is normal.

But once there are sections of society who feel this azadi is jhoota, be they Naxalite or fundamentalist, and hinder your freedom, then freedom begins to make sense. Fear of losing it makes you realise what it is.