So, the Independence day hullabaloo is over and people are back to their pouts in their Facebook and whatsapp DPs. After the temporary ubiquitous picnics and excursions, the India Gate ground has been cleansed. The flags made of color paper have been disposed to their right place – the dustbin.
The patriotic epiphany is over and out. Now, I have a story to tell you. Read and ponder, ok?
Like any other office, Independence Day was celebrated a day before at my workplace. We were asked to dress up in something that becomes twin to the flag. We did. Women devotedly wore a white kurta with dark green bottom and dupatta in orange to complete it. Men had lesser choices so they submitted to long kurtas they bought a decade back for some Puja may be. By the way, is Malika Sherawat out of that messy case of only draping the flag? Leave it, we are talking something important, right?
Office was Tiranga oriented and to whatever length your eyes could go, you could see and smell orange, white and green. Balloons, confetti and all those decoration items.
So, teams were segregated and we were supposed to do anything that had to do something with patriotism – drama, song or dance. I was ‘hired’ by a team and asked to find out a topic. During our brainstorming session, all the ideas were entertained and discussed.
We finally came up with three ideas for a play. It was distributed in three parts showcasing following issues:
1st part – Racism and biased treatment towards North Eastern Indians
2nd part – Calling south Indians as Madrasis (one of the guy said to another dark skinned fellow – “tu to perfect hai is role ke liye.”)
3rd part – Hindu Muslim riot
I, like a theatre master described the roles and recommended people for the respective characters. A girl who had small eyes resembled to the North East characteristics. To me, she was perfect for a Mizo. The group members suggested the same.
She entered the room that moment. I said, “Let’s give the Mizo role to her. You are going to be a Mizo. Yayy!” (I almost celebrated).
The response: “No one dares to say anything to me. Ok?”
Silence for a moment. In a group of ten people, my poker face was the prettiest one.
The person sat for a jiffy only to get up again, “I have some work. I am leaving.”
In next ten minutes, my cab arrived and I left, thus freezing the topic and keeping the rehearsals ‘to be done’ the next day.
The next day, the play was cancelled and I was kicked out just like Sourav Ganguly was.
The group did a Bee’s knees dance on ‘Desh mera rangila han, desh mera rangila’. They also got the first prize. Ironically, we celebrated Independence Day.
Thank you. Ok! Bye!
Picture courtesy – Internet