Celebrating freedom

The joy of celebrating Independence Day way back in the 1960-70s, as a school girl, is something I fondly cherish. It was compulsory for all students to attend the I-Day celebrations. Yet, it was real fun and exciting as a number of activities like march past, special drill, group singing etc would be planned. Many of us took part in one or more of these activities.

Our class teacher would take down the names of interested students and then, month-long practice sessions would begin, all during the class hours!  Missing classes meant an added bonus to the fun. I would always volunteer to participate in more than one activity, announcing at home that I had been “selected” for these activities.

The dress code would be white skirt and shirt with white ribbons, white wrist bands, white socks and canvas shoes as opposed to the regular school uniform. The girls had to wear two plaits, to be folded and tied at the top. Buying a small Indian flag-badge – which cost 25 paise then – to wear was mandatory!

My preparations for the event would be elaborate. Washing and drying the old white canvas shoes would take half a day! The white dress and socks soaked in hot water with bleach at the break of dawn would battle with the traditional washing stone to become clean, followed by a treatment with Robin Blue before drying in the sun. Several untiring visits to the backyard would finally confirm that the items were dry.

I would first work upon the shoes. But Alas! The liquid white polish would be almost dry. As always, my mother would come to my rescue, adding a little water and shaking and stirring it to make it usable. After pressing my clothes with an old, heavy, electric iron box, I was to press the dresses of my siblings, too, to utilise the full heat! I would then manage to displace my father’s shirt from the hanger, unnoticed by him, and place my ironed dress on it.

I would shut myself in a room to practise the song of the day. I would then remind my mother to wake me up early the next morning. Before departure, she had also to be also to plait my hair quickly. Pleased with my appearance, I would leave home to catch the bus early.

The activities would start with the flag hoisting, followed by the march past. For the rendition of ‘Vande Mataram’, our music teacher once surprised us with strings of Kanakambara flowers for all singers, with the instructions that those standing on the left or the right would wear it on the respective side of their plait using hair clips bought for this purpose. We were all charmed by this special treat; a crown for the special event!  
In the end, everyone would get chocolates, but the participants would get ‘a bun and a banana.’ Ah, what a pleasure!  Once done, we would look forward to the following year’s I-Day festivities.

However, having been a proud participant of the Independence Day celebrations at my school for seven years, I feel distressed that my children have been denied this kind of an experience themselves in their school.