On 6th April, 1930, a certain Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi picked up a handful of salt and marked the beginning of what was to be known as the Civil Disobedience Movement. A movement that aimed at driving our Colonial Rulers out of our beloved motherland, and giving swaraj to our people. Eighty-four years later, we have got our swaraj, but are we really independent? Are we really free? Yes, we are an established democracy and everything, but is that really enough for our emancipation? Is that really enough for us to say that we are better off than we were eighty-four years ago?
I look around, and I don’t see emancipated beings. I see people honking unnecessarily on the roads, I see one random neighbour spitting on the road, I see that one aunty watering her plants in her balcony and spilling water everywhere when she can clearly see that there is somebody standing right below the balcony. I see young people who are more interested in random photo-shoots than in what is happening in the country. I see atrocities being committed against women, against children who are yet to cry for the first time. I see the rich bleeding the poor dry. I see a government tainted with charges of corruption. I see television serials that make no sense whatsoever. I see societal prejudices being given centre stage. I see the citizens of a free country slogging for everything that is superficial. I see people who have forgotten everything that their forefathers did to give them what they have today. I see them lost in their selfish pursuits.
It has been sixty-six years, eight months and seven days since the eve of our independence, and we are still subordinate. Subordinate to greed, lethargy, idiocy, and indifference. I guess, all of us need to ask ourselves, when will we set ourselves free? Because no messiah can liberate us from the demons that rule us from within, it has to be us.