Why This Defence Day Feels Different

Today feels different, I woke up in the morning to the sound of my alarm blaring, signalling me that it was time for office, another day to grind and bring news to you all reading this, what my mind did not register is the fact that today is the 6th of September, that today is Defence Day. The immense excitement that I felt at the sudden remembrance of the day soon washed away, as I had to recall that I was late to the office.

On the way to the office, the outside world seemed oblivious to the importance of the day, which seemed odd to someone who has come from an Army background, the online media was blowing up with its celebration but the world outside did not seem to care much about today, as though it was another day of the year, not of significance. Odd isn’t it? How we seem so happy and busy online yet so empty and hollow in the real world, just like how the roads and the streets looked today, barren of the flags and the noise of a National Day, empty of its spirit in the real world.

The world online has given us immense content to talk about for days on end, but what about the real world? Where is the real world content? What about the loud music that was to be aired on the streets? The kids and the families riding public or private transport covered in green and white out on the roads with smiling faces and what about the little Meela festivals held in different parts of a city, where lights are too blinding on each street? What about the remembrance of the Suhada and the tribute given to their families? None of which I seem to see. Just an online world full of little white lies and a few memories of the ones that are gone. Do the eyes of the ones who watch not weep? Remembering the ones who have left us and the ones they love just for this country.

I remember the time when my father was still serving in the Armed forces, when the morning used to start off with a parade that was prepared for the days event with little children laughing and waving in white and green clothes, where soldiers marched forward with boots that stumped the ground with a sync motion, where the roads were filled with tanks and 2.5 Ton Trucks on which little children dressed in cultural clothes danced, with loud cheers that followed around the Cantt as every person was present outside to witness the event, the morning ended and another event began, unit functions that only allowed adults, so we kids would scramble to our school and prepare for the evening festival, where we sang every national song that our little minds could remember, where we dressed up as our role models and celebrated our victory, where the Suhadas’ were given tribute and their families were given respect. At night the day ended with a little prayer sent out to the ones who lost their lives for the nation and for their families, with a little concert held for the youth to sing their heart out and relive the day for the last time.

I remember my days as though they were yesterday, maybe it’s my mind or just me missing those times, maybe it’s just a little hope I wish to see in every citizen of this nation to rejoice and celebrate the day with remembrance of the ones who lost their lives and those who risk their every day. Let us remember the day as a price our elders paid and the lives our young Suhada put on the line and live a little for them and the ones who didn’t make it at the end of the day.