I wrote my view on what freedom means to me three years ago in my diary and I just wanted to share:
When I first opened my eyes to this blighted world, I could feel the warm air, maybe- the air which said that I am a part of this free and beautiful country, India. Little did I realize that when I will turn two, the riots will break out in my small city, Saharanpur. No that time I didn’t realize and only know this incident through the elders in my family. But now being a grown up little woman, I question myself, “Was that freedom?”
The religious disharmony in a secular country, communal riots, the corruption- the poisons in the society more poisonous than the most poisonous snake’s bite, the warm air of that free nation probably deceived me. I see bad examples of being free when a four year old has to sell pens on the red light instead of writing with pens. I hear the bad example of freedom in Kashmir where the commoners still cry, “azadi” even after 64 years of Independence. I feel the lack of freedom when I and many other girls are engulfed with fear of ‘eve teasing’. I read about bad example of freedom when authors like Taslima Nasreen and Salman Rushdie are banned, they are not even allowed to pour out their feelings (I don’t intend to hurt anybody’s sentiments, just my thoughts)
I am still learning the meaning of Azadi, still yet to feel it.
Happy Independence day……….everyone (still).