There is a brand-new national pastime that has quietly overtaken cricket, it is the sacred art of correcting someone who says the wrong word on the wrong day.
“You do not hoist the flag on Republic Day,” someone declares importantly.
“You unfurl it.”
Another voice booms back.
“And on Independence Day you do not unfurl it. You hoist it.”
Nods all around. Chests swell. A nation of instant linguists is born.
It is quite impressive, really. We may not remember the Preamble. We may not know the Fundamental Duties. We may not have read a single line of the Constitution since school. But we know, with passionate certainty, the difference between hoisting and unfurling.
This is progress. Of some sort.
Meanwhile, somewhere quietly in a dusty corner, the actual meaning of Republic Day is yawning in boredom. Republic Day is not a vocabulary competition. It is not a grammar test. It is not a national spelling bee. It is the day we celebrate giving ourselves a Constitution. A rule book. A moral compass. A promise.
But promises are harder than pronunciation.
It is much easier to tell your neighbour, “You used the wrong word,” than to tell your councillor, “You violated the Constitution.”
It is easier to argue about semantics than to argue about justice.
So we proudly correct each other’s sentences while ignoring broken systems, unequal treatment, silenced voices and selective law enforcement.
We have become like writers who know where every comma should go but have nothing worth saying.
Technically flawless. Spiritually empty.
Republic Day was meant to remind us that no one is above the law. Not politicians. Not bureaucrats. Not religious leaders. Not billionaires. Not you. Not me.
It was meant to remind us that citizens are equal. Not equal only on paper. Not equal only in speeches. Equal in police stations. Equal in courts. Equal in hospitals. Equal in opportunity. Equal in dignity.
But instead of reading the Constitution, we read WhatsApp forwards.
Instead of studying our rights and duties, we study YouTube arguments.
Instead of asking, “Is this constitutional?” we ask, “Did you say hoist or unfurl?”
Imagine a strange Republic Day tradition. After the flag ceremony, everyone sits down and reads the Preamble aloud. Slowly. Thoughtfully.
“We, the people of India…”
Imagine families discussing Fundamental Rights at breakfast. Office groups talking about Fundamental Duties instead of office gossip. Citizens asking candidates one simple question before voting.
Will you protect the Constitution even when it is inconvenient for you?
Now that would be revolutionary.
Because when citizens know their Constitution, governments become nervous.
When people know their rights, power becomes accountable.
When the rule book is understood, rulers cannot casually tear pages out of it.
So yes, feel free to correct someone gently if they mix up hoisting and unfurling. But after that, do something far more radical.
Study the Constitution.
Because flags are symbols. Beautiful symbols. Important symbols.
But the Constitution is the soul.
And a nation that worships the symbol while neglecting the soul is like a person who polishes the cover of a book while never opening its pages…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
