THE FLAG REVOLTS.

It was a pleasant windy day. The easterly winds were blowing softly, ruffling hair of people around.

The white khadi clad people were gathered around the flag mast in rows like school children, they had shiny pens in their pockets with gaudy watches on their thick wrists. Their sycophants were constantly at their service with the mineral water bottles and cologne napkins to wipe their brows whenever required. Some were seen talking animatedly on their imported cell phones. Their swagger and demeanour suggested their privileged status in our fickle society. They were getting upset over the delay in this flag hoisting ceremony. They had other more lucrative commitments to attend to.

The missionary hospital was all set for the flag hoisting ceremony, I was working there as a resident physician. The poor maids and helpers were all decked up to sing the anthem and patriotic songs. I had never seen them during my six months of residency over there. They also had never seen the sunshine and probably would never, till the next year. They were like bonded slaves. They started singing the anthem in their harsh native accent.

The plush residential building was agog with the blaring loud speakers, It was an important get together for the glitzy members. Snacks were ordered from the best caterers in the town. All the members were decked up in their finest designer clothes for the flag hoisting ceremony. The ceremony was viewed by the street urchins living in the lane outside the posh building. They were hoping against hope to get the left-overs. Their empty stomachs had already started grumbling in anticipation. The snobby crowd detested their invasion, promptly were shooed away by the obedient baton wielding watchmen. A couple of urchins got blows on their rumps in their attempt to escape. They reacted with the choicest abuses, hurled at the servile watchmen.

The flag was unfurled, the customary flowers wrapped inside fell limply on the ground.

The flag, despite the easterly winds, refused to wave. It just lay there on the mast like a dead lifeless cloth.

It chose not to do so.

The flag was hanging in shame and apathy. It could no longer bear the atrocities committed in this independent country.

The flag revolted.

I tried hard to suppress my tears and came home with drooped shoulders.