Celebrating the Domestic Martyrs

Or Should I say Mourning them on 78th Independence day

Shrunu Hey Pradhana Sevak,

Happy Independence Day! Or should I say, “Happy Day of Mourning?” After all, what’s there to celebrate when the real enemy isn’t lurking across the border but right here at home?

Mr. Prime Minister, Mr. Home Minister, it seems we don’t need to worry about foreign invaders anymore. Why should we? We’re doing a fine job of wiping ourselves out. No need for border skirmishes when you can be martyred simply by stepping outside your front door. The enemy could be a speeding car, a crumbling bridge, or, quite often, just a mob with a different opinion. Who knew patriotism could be so…domestic?

I was just thinking, perhaps we should have flown the flag at half-mast this Independence Day. Not for the soldiers, mind you—they already get their due. No, this would be for the ordinary citizens who’ve fallen in the line of fire of our very own brand of domestic violence. It’s a full-scale operation, and no one’s safe—not the girls who’ve been violated and killed, not the kids who’ve died in random vehicular accidents, and certainly not those caught in the chaos of disasters like the one in Wayanad.

• The north-east flood..
• The Himalayan landslides

all impacts of bad environment management. Shall we call them our “domestic martyrs?”

You see, justice seems to be on an extended vacation.

• Justice for Sushant,
• justice for Nirbhaya,
• justice for the Bangla doctor

—there’s a long queue, and the line isn’t moving. Meanwhile, the real culprits—misogyny, mob rule, and plain old neglect—are running wild. Mr. Home Minister, is this what you meant when you said we’re a democracy? Because it’s beginning to feel more like mob-ocracy. Or perhaps, in keeping with the spirit of the times, we should call it “Misogynist-ocracy”? Rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it?

And where’s the opposition in all this? Oh, wait, they’re busy playing hide and seek with their moral compass. Can’t find it? Don’t worry; they haven’t needed it in years. It’s hypocrisy at its finest—what’s the point of calling ourselves a democracy if we’ve traded in our ideals for mob mentality?

You know that song, “Ai mere watan ke logon,” right? The one about remembering our martyrs? I hear it every year, blasted at full volume, as if the louder it’s played, the more patriotic we’ll feel. Lata Mangeshkar’s high-pitched voice rings out, “Zara aankh mein bhar lo paani,” but I have to ask—are we crying for the soldiers at the border, or for the civilians who never made it home because they had the audacity to exist?

Let’s be honest here. We’ve been feeding this nation a steady diet of nostalgia and empty patriotism while ignoring the fact that the real battle is within. Our soldiers may be fighting at the borders, but the rest of us are fighting a different war—a war against apathy, against injustice, and yes, against our very own “domestic violence.” Perhaps it’s time to rethink what it means to be a martyr in this country. Because these days, the list seems to be growing in all the wrong ways.

Mr. Prime Minister, I know you’re a man of action. You’ve got your Man Ki Baat, your NaMo app, and your Twitter handle—tools to keep your finger on the pulse of the nation. But here’s the thing: the pulse is weak, and it’s not because we’re too busy to care. It’s because caring in this country feels a lot like shouting into the void. We voice our opinions, but do they ever reach you? Or is it more like that wave that touches the shore before it’s swallowed up by the sea?

Let’s talk about foundations for a moment. Not the grand monuments we build, but the actual foundation of this nation. It’s starting to feel like quicksand. Every time we try to step forward, we sink a little deeper. And pointing fingers at past governments isn’t helping—they’ve done enough damage. But let’s be clear: over the past few years, it hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, we’re sinking faster.

So, what do we do? Take stock, repair, rejuvenate—fancy words, but what do they really mean when we’re still losing lives, resources, and, let’s be honest, our sanity? Maybe this Independence Day, instead of patting ourselves on the back, we should have flown the flag at half-mast and admitted that we’ve got a lot of work to do.

But hey, at least we can still sing “Ai mere watan ke logon,” right? Though, I have to wonder, how many more verses will we add before we finally get our act together?

Yours in “domestic” solidarity,

Sathybhama (aka Bhudevi, the Mother Earth)