‘Saare
Jahan se Accha’
‘Beating
Retreat’ 50 years ago; Circa 1966
My chest swelled with pride,
As the combined bands of the Army, Air
Force and Navy come marching down Raisana
Hill, resplendent in their ceremonial attire playing ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’, I’m consumed with a sense of intense
patriotism; our country, our armed forces. I cast a sideways glance, my brother’s transfixed gaze displayed the same emotions; my mother sitting beside me on the
other side sees my eyes shining and presses my hand, gently; smiling knowingly;
my father seated beside her resplendent with his medals, looked the grandest of
them all.
I felt my chest is going to explode.
Sitting on the stands especially erected
for ‘Beating Retreat’, at Vijay Chowk or victory square, a vast quadrangle
as you descent Raisina Hill where the
presidential palace Rashtrapati Bhawan is
located, listening to the military
bands, marching, playing, approaching; all in perfect unison, seated behind the
President of India and three Chiefs of Staff, the services officers, heads of
missions, dignitaries, foreign guests, was just much of a heady cocktail for a
12 year old! The majestic and imposing Rashtrapati
Bhawan, looked every bit the seat of power of the erstwhile imperial power,
now a symbol of India’s democracy. The sheer grandeur of the ceremony awe-inspiring
and breath-taking, a sight and an event that remains etched in my memory
forever, a dream called India.
Such a grand function, and I wonder
why it’s called ‘Beating Retreat’.
Officially meant to mark the end of Republic day festivities, its historical
significance meant the end of battle with the enemy for the day, has now been
morphed into a display of pomp and show, of our rich military heritage. The
marching bands of the armed forces with a mix of instruments of bagpipers and
drums, buglers and trumpeters, cymbals and trombone, bandmaster casting their
mace high in the sky, only to catch it as it descends with one hand, without a
flicker of the eyebrow, all creating music of a unique genre, a unique heritage
of our military past. Marching in tandem, interweaving themselves in
intricacies of U turns and rearrangements of the marching order with the
practiced ease of a Sunday morning walk, in an array of movements and instruments,
the bands regale the audience, spellbound in the sheer spectacle of the event. As
the music regales, time flies, if only time would stand still, and the Retreat not end, but yet it must, that
is the essence of the ‘Retreat’, it
must end.
The drums solo begins; beating the
bass drum and clicking the drumsticks in unison, my mind goes back to my
history lessons when the cavalry marched into war and bands gave the beat to
maintain rhythm. The end must be approaching.
The sun starts setting, a silence
descends, the buglers begin playing ‘Abide
with me’ to pin drop silence. An eerie calm descends on the spellbound
audience, the bells tolls from the minarets of Rashtrapati Bhawan the National Flag is lowered and folded with
reverence, a symbol of our Republic. As the bells stop tolling, the bands begin
marching back up Raisana Hill playing ‘Saare
Jahan se Accha’, magically Rashtrapati
Bhawan is illuminated, bringing the celebrations to a perfect ending. The
President’s Buggy rolls in with the sound of the clip clop of the horses’
hooves, I feel a pang of regret, its over till next year.
Present
Day 29th Jan 2016; Time 4.45
I awake with a jolt, I must have dozed
off whilst reading TN Ninan’s ‘Turn of
the Tortoise’ a brilliant treatise on how the slow India, the proverbial
tortoise is now getting its turn in the world, coming of age as a Breakout Nation.
Often enough whilst reading I slip into a reverie, now reading Ninan’s Tortoise a heady jumble of dates,
periods and numbers, crunched data of India’s post-independence development, juxtaposed
with events, dates. I recount the India of yesteryear, when the young Indian nation
had dreams and visions, hopes and aspirations, pride and valour, of gallantry
and chivalry all coming together, inseparable in a heady mix of patriotism. Somehow,
through this fascinating reading, I feel I’m the hero of the book since I’ve
lived through those years and felt all those emotions, in totality what we’d call
patriotism.
I ask for a cup of coffee and begin
devouring ‘Tortoise’ again. A few
pages later I’ve slipped back into my reverie; back to being 12 years old, on
the stands of Vijay Chowk watching the
‘Retreat’ with the familiar strains of the ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’ ringing in my ears. The bands gets louder,
and louder, the music seem to be right there, I snap out of my reverie and look
up, the television screen come sharply in focus, and the ‘Beating Retreat’ of this year is in progress. It’s not circa 1966,
I’m not 12 years old seated in Vijay
chowk, but watching the ‘Retreat’
on television at home; I look out at the crowds on television, I could be any
one of the 12 year old there on the stands. Emotions overtake me, I choke with
intense nostalgia, patriotism, my chest swells up in pride…………
Sixty Nine years after Independence we
live the dream called India. The Beating
Retreat brings into sharp focus the timelessness of our nationhood, Raisina Hill, Rashtrapati Bhawan, Vijay
Chowk all steeped in time, the President, Chiefs of Armed Forces, the Prime
Minister, the faces have changed, mortal beings have passed, the institutions
remain stoic, the nation remains immortal……….never ending, ever embracing, ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’.
rajeevsuri.cbms@gmail.com
