....Is here... and there would be half a trillion Indians (our population would be around that much, I suppose?) writing about it. It's a day that invokes a wonderful concoction of hues, shades, and colors (including those on our local tricolor). It's my second independence day in Mumbai, and the short, brisk shots of rain in this city are perfectly in sync with the equally unpredictable nature of our central and state politics.
There are fears of violence, and probably justified. Somebody somewhere is probably hatching their own jehadi plot, trying to drown the sound of fire-crackers with probably louder noises...
There are the Indian cricket team players, who have given us a wonderful independence day gift...
There are the daily fresh crops of potholes which seem to grow with alarming rates on the jungle of our roads, as if they have superior evolotionary advantage compared to the gigantic fly-overs...
There are the mindless Bollywood movies churned out like the exhaust from a crowded kitchen where too many cooks are happily busy spoiling the broth...
There are the daily dreams that get crushed, reminding us that rather than forgetting what has happened to us, we seem to remember more what could not happen to us...
There are also the multi-millionaires that are being created as this nation continues with repeated drumrolls on its acquisitioning march across the planet...
There are...
..well, lots of things as you can imagine... everything has it's own significance on this particularly significant independence day. And although 60 is the traditional retirement age across most Indian companies, we can always hope that this country will continue to work as hard as ever, whatever be the results...
