The ancient land of knowledge…

… is watching its students starve because exams have become better at taking lives than building new ones.

It is disgusting that the country has to heave its entire might behind something so fundamental. Will it always take a revolution to remind people to do their jobs? 

A movement isn’t born in boardrooms. It is what a nation regurgitates after years of unabashed authority being shoved down its throat.

Who wants to rebel? Who wants to go hungry for days? Who wants to drop all their work and beat drums to deaf ears? No one.

A movement isn’t a voluntary action. It is a forced reaction.

I don’t care about a political party. My nation isn’t a party, neither the ruling nor the opposition. My nation is the young and the old who suffer without being acknowledged. 

It is heartbreaking that our blood doesn’t boil at every broken promise, but it takes the death of innocent children for us to even notice that something’s not right.

The saddest part is that we will forget this issue in a few months if not days, just like we did with several of its predecessors. After all, we have jobs to get back to, mouths to feed, and watch our future disintegrate in front of our eyes. But somewhere in Delhi, the spark of Inqalab refuses to die. And people in power fear tiny sparks because history has shown them how empires burn.

We did a lot of things right. Ancient intelligent civilizations, learned scholars exploring the frontiers of science, soulful artists that made art indistinguishable from magic. An ancient land of knowledge that made the world look at it in awe.

We were a land of faith and promise. But a glorious past is no consolation for a disgraceful present.

I am proud of our history. And I’m ashamed of our present.