Patriotism at Mylara Krupa

Every Independence or Republic Day celebration brings back patriotic memories – of a personal kind.

The premises where we were brought up (I use the past tense as I now live in Bangalore – although my mother continues to live there) in the spacious place is named “Mylara Krupa” on Devaparthiva Road. In my previous post on my school days in CFTRI I had mentioned about the sense of patriotism I had been exposed to by the spontaneous display by our principal Mrs. Caroline Parpia on Martyr’s Day. This probably played an important part in my life.

As I grew up, I remember that I have not missed any of either the Independence Day or Republic Day functions. And I was exposed to quite a few of them! Our Schools and Colleges, my father’s work place – CFTRI, my grand-father’s work place – The City Law Courts, my father’s and grand-father’s recreation club – Cosmopolitan Club. I had plenty of support from my elders. So, probably the patriotism rubbed in.

As early as in the early 70’s I started celebrating the Independence Day and the Republic Day in OUR HOUSE. I would ask my “Taata” Shri. Subba Rao to hoist the National Flag, before he left for the other flag hoisting ceremonies.

The zeal to hoist the National Flag was such that I would go to any means to hoist a flag – even if it meant (as I realize now) violating the National Flag code (I may please be excused for that). Unfortunately, the zeal would start on the previous night with no time for major preparations. It would generally mean that my mother (who was adept at tailoring) would have to dig into the bundle of cut, semi-cut, uncut clothes and bring out pieces of clothes having any resemblance to the national tri-colour. My artistic elder brother would draw by hand the ‘chakra’. This was because my “taata” would not have time to organize of a proper flag.

The flag post would be the “madi-koolu” – the 8 foot length of cane used to spread the clothes used for religious purposes. The flag would be tied – yes, tied – not hoisted on top of this pole. Flower petals would be placed inside and the flag folded and now tied with a piece of rope. The pole would now be place in a hole dug in front of the “tulasi katte”. All the family members and some invited neighbours would stand around the Flag Pole. “Taata” would then untie (Unfurl?) the flag and we would all sing “Jana GaNa Mana”.

My “Ajji” used to support the event by cooking “kobri mithai” on most days else we would distribute “kallu sakkare” to the invities and family members before dispersing for the other events of the day.

As there would be cultural programmes at CFTRI, which I would attend without fail, the honour and responsibility of lowering the flag (complete with the flag pole) rested on my “ajji” – which she would unfailingly observe at 6.00 PM.

My “troublesome” enthusiasm went to such an extent that “taata” finally bought me a proper National Flag (2ft x 3 ft) which was used for 2-3 years. I then started insisting that we “hoist” the flag instead of tying it to the pole. My brother had to use his ingenuity to install a pulley using a wooden spool at the top of the pole and we would run a piece of cotton rope to formally “unfurl” the National Tri Colour.

With the sad demise of “taata” in 1976 the event unfortunately came to an end. The National Flag continues to be a priced possession carrying many fond and patriotic memories.