Musings Of an Octogenarian.

Well, well, here we are, 78 years into this grand adventure called independence. Nehru once spoke of our “tryst with destiny,” and I suppose we’ve kept that date—though it feels more like a bad blind date at this point. You know, the kind where you’re left wondering if you’ll ever find true love or just end up settling for another night with your cat.

Now, I’m 80, so forgive me if my memory’s a bit rusty, but I seem to recall a time when we celebrated our diversity. Ah, the good old days when speaking multiple languages was a badge of honor, not a reason to be sidelined. Nowadays, it seems like there’s this new-fangled idea that one language is enough for everyone. I ask you, who decided Hindi should be the default? No offense, I love a good Bollywood song as much as the next person, but when did we decide that erasing the rich tapestry of our regional languages was the way forward? It’s like trying to knit a sweater with one color of yarn—boring, and bound to unravel eventually. In our language lies our nation, its history and science which dies with the language.

And speaking of unravelling, let’s talk about our environment. I remember when trees were something you could actually see from your window, not just in those ‘Save the Earth’ posters. These days, it’s all about six-lane highways and “smart” cities. Smart for whom, I wonder? Not for the pedestrians, that’s for sure! I’ve seen friendlier spaces in a porcupine’s hug. And don’t even get me started on what’s happened to the animals. I swear, even the cows are starting to look both ways before crossing the street.

Our beloved farmland is another story. Once upon a time, our fields were the pride of the nation, but now, they’re as neglected as last year’s New Year’s resolutions. We’ve traded our fertile soil for sand mines and cement, like that’s some kind of upgrade. We’re churning out engineers faster than my grandchildren can say “Silicon Valley,” but who’s left to tend the fields? Who’s looking after our groundwater, our rainwater harvesting, our crops? Nobody, that’s who! It’s all about getting that next big contract in the US or UK. Meanwhile, our own water crisis is getting so bad I’m considering investing in a rain dance class.

The education system—oh, don’t get me started! I remember when going to school meant something. You learned things, important things! Now it’s just a business like any other. Degrees are handed out like flyers, but heaven help us if you ask these graduates to actually do something. They’ll give you a blank stare that could rival a dead fish. And those Instagram “coaches”? Please! When did scrolling through memes and listening to life hacks from people half my age become the new education?

The health sector, too, has gone the way of the dinosaur—except, unlike the dinosaurs, it’s still around, just with a lot more red tape and a lot less compassion. I remember a time when doctors were healers, not businessmen. Now, it’s all about how deep your pockets are. If you’re broke, well, you might as well start practicing your last rites.

But here’s the kicker—centralization! Oh, yes, the big buzzword. Remember when we used to talk about empowering local governments? Decentralization was all the rage, but now it seems like we’ve turned back the clock. The Home Minister’s comments on the Wayanad disaster made me spit out my tea. The “benevolent” Bharat Sarkar is like some kind of strict parent, while the Kerala Sarkar is treated like a rebellious teenager. Never mind that environmental mismanagement is the real issue—let’s just blame the kids, why don’t we?

And unemployment—what a mess. There are jobs, sure, but nobody seems to be qualified for them. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack, except the haystack is made of diplomas, and the needle is actual skill. We’ve got plenty of people with degrees, but no one seems to know how to use them. Meanwhile, the internet’s chock-full of “influencers” who can teach you how to fold a shirt in ten seconds but probably couldn’t sew on a button if their lives depended on it.

Let’s not forget the judiciary—our once-proud institution is now a shadow of its former self. Justice delayed is justice denied, they say. Well, these days, it’s more like justice forgotten, buried under a mountain of paperwork and bureaucracy.

And safety? Ha! That’s a joke, right? The Parliament, which should be the heart of our democracy, has turned into a playground for personal vendettas and religious one-upmanship. Religion is the new political currency, and actual issues like unemployment, water crises, and education are lost in the shuffle.

So, here we are, 78 years of independence, and what do we have to show for it? A lot of noise, not much substance. Nehru’s destiny is still out there, waiting for us to get our act together. But if we don’t start focusing on what really matters, I’m afraid our tryst with destiny might just end up being a tryst with disaster.

Ah well, there’s always next year…