A Slice of My Country

As an over-urban Indian who works 5 days a week, slogs till late nights, and on most occasions, drags some of that slog to weekends, I thought I didn't have time for patriotism. After all, this quaint feeling is far removed from my reality...right? Patriotism doesn't solve job dissatisfaction, work pressure, ugly tiffs with mad bosses and husbands (;)), recession, global warming and so on.
Patriotism isn't going to fetch me a fat pay cheque, or earn me a holiday for two to Lavasa. Patriotism isn't going to fetch me a seat at the G8 summit, or a place in Manmohan Singh's Facebook friend's list. So why indulge in it? The term 'Bharat' today simply weaves a knitted image of ugly potholes, power cuts, corrupt politicians, faceless, poverty-stricken humans, traffic snarls, mad heat, and fight over religion...
However, tonight when the Jana Gana Mana played loud and clear on foreign soil (India-West Indies match at Lord's), I felt a lone tear glisten in my eye, and a lump formed in my throat. Ideally, this should have been an August 15th post. But patriotism I guess isn't an outdated feeling. I hope it never is.

As an over-urban Indian, I thought I had overcome traditional mush. But I haven't...and I am proud of it. Long live the Tricolour...long live my country.