An Ode to Joy

This story belongs to India. The diaspora agrees.

There’s revolution in the air.

A revolution that some are eager to call anarchy.

Before I say anything more, here’s a little excerpt from The Political Writings of Bhagat Singh:

“Anarchists are the most sensitive and ardent well-wishers of the entire world. Even if we disagree with their views, sobriety, love of the people, spirit of sacrifice and genuineness cannot be doubted.”

That said, these kids are not anarchists. They are hope with a spine.

In an era where LinkedIn takes centre stage, and fear is drilled into you lest you suffer the consequences of taking a stand, an entire generation took to the streets, putting their bodies and careers on the line.

That’s courage of the highest order.

No one knew what was coming, not us, not them.

Cameraperson Parth was watching.

In a tense atmosphere with the police trying every scare tactic in the playbook, from barricading the roads to blurring windows, to reportedly brandishing (and using) a gun in Bihar, the machinery of the State seemed to move with little regard for restraint, conscience or duty. They have been trained to protect authority, not always those who need protection.

A lathi charge was ordered (along with several dirty tricks), to coerce a rapidly growing movement into submission. Power has often survived by containing dissent and turning people on each other, until solidarity gives way to silence.

For years, public life has been narrowed by suspicion. Every demonstration must be reduced to an identity before it can be dismissed. The hand-in-glove media, instead of demanding accountability or reporting from the ground, busies itself discrediting those who do. This time, the script didn't work. It is difficult to persuade a country that its own children are enemies.

And these children, bless them, with grit, humour and unprecedented creativity, won hearts and minds alike, making a government notorious for its arrogance, concede.

People swarmed in from every corner for the most glorious display of unity and Satyagraha. The songs, the bravery, the irreverence made hope and joy feel contagious and India feel recognisable again.

More importantly, collective resistance gave the nation its long-lost pulse. The invoked songs belonged to a pre-propaganda era. A chorus of thousands joining in defied powers that be that thrive on isolation, mistrust, and othering.

The biggest victory, however, has been an awakened political consciousness that can’t be beaten back, lathis notwithstanding.

The future is winking. May the course be with you.