‘Tucked away in the heart of the Alliance Francais courtyard, we exchange visions for this country by which we are so enthralled. Our words float on air which dances with the rising steam of our tea – tea that keeps the passion behind these thoughts at bay.
Still, something is aflame here. And it keeps us captive – sitting, talking, dreaming- all in hope that we might return from our ‘escape’ ignited. That words will do more than dance from our mouths – though amusing that may be. We hope for something of more resonance – a dream with a direction that lives in the marrow, not simply the skin.
For the Indian street is a river, and its current is quick to wash away hopes which we would merely drape over ourselves – no matter how proudly we may wear them...’
I wrote last about Bangalore at first glance. I left off in search of a ‘boat’. I return to you now – almost a month later – as my thoughts cycle back to ‘the river’ at the heart of the city…
This is a place in which you must listen and think for a long while before speaking. It has been my intention to do this in my first month here – and in this pursuit, so have I begun to construct my boat. For the river that I saw in the streets of Bangalore upon initial glance has proven to hold truth that runs much deeper than the physical sense to which I initially applied it. It is a metaphor which I believe permeates to the question of the Indian nation - a question for which the pursuit of an answer holds a storied, perhaps even ‘divine’ history.
Following Independence in 1947 – it was the quest of a nation ‘to build the noble mansion of free India where all her children may dwell’ (Nehru), ‘to join a struggle for such democracy’ in which the ‘differences between Hindus and Muslims’ are forgotten, so that only Indians remain, ‘engaged in the common struggle for independence’ (Gandhi). It was these inspired words - spoken at the ‘origin of the river’ that was now a free and democratic India - that would penetrate to the marrow of a nation for the next 63 years.
So as we stow away in restaurants and pubs, lounges and living rooms – dream sequencing stories: past, present and future – we weave threads of hope which embroider this vision. And from these retreats we emerge well dressed, in cloth spun from whispers of words from the past.
But -
The Indian street is a river - a spectacle of thousands of voices, each fixed to the unique ebbs and flows of their cultural past. And together they form a thunderous current, one which would drown even the strongest of swimmers - so we aspire to build boats. They will be crafted from the very voices they set to navigate, sanded down by a keen ear and a strong mind, shaped by the cause that was planted in the marrow of the people, now a near century ago. They will be oared by passion - the kind which burns brightly and deeply, fixing the path in even the darkest of storms. May it burn eternally, for it was ignited at 'the river’s origin' with these immortal words...
‘"Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity.”
-Jawaharlal Nehru, Aug. 15, 1947
*(For the remainder of Nehru’s speech, visit http://www.mapsofindia.com/personalities/nehru/message-to-nation.html)
*Fittingly enough, the name Nehru comes from the Hindi word 'nehar' - in English, 'a canal' :P
