The notes of an old building

I am an old building which stands at the end of the road, opposite to the famous coffee and ice cream parlour. I have seen at least a hundred springs here. People of all ages are happy about my existence because I have been a witness of the long struggle for freedom of my nation from the colonial rule. I see the sea of traffic every day, I see couples fighting, parents scolding, friends chatting and innumerous such events every day. I have been seeing all this for a long time now.

Rewinding the bioscope of my life, I pause at the fight for freedom by the people of this nation; the freedom fighters have delivered long zealous speeches in front of me. Many of those have been even killed in front of my eyes. I have mourned with them and I consoled them. I even had tears in my eyes when I saw them suffer. And that glorious moment, when we became independent, I can never forget that joy.

These days, that joy is missing. I fail to revive that sense of pride while I think about my nation. The youth today doesn’t reflect similar energy and enthusiasm. There are no more conversations about what I dream of doing for my nation. Infact, the whole vibe is missing. They no more feel the special feeling of being a pot of energy. Everything has been covered with the quilt of dormancy in the season of cold heartedness. Everybody seems so overwhelmed with the inherited asset of independence that they hardly care about the ongoing degradation of the nation. They seem to be burdened by the legacy of their freedom struggle than to carry it with pride.

The most shocking fact is that the youth hardly cares about the so called “Patriotism”. They want to go to college, gossip around, complete the course and grab a job abroad. The next level plan may include marriage, children and other personal stuff. And one fine day, they would retire from their jobs and spend the last days of their life in a hospital or asylum or if lucky, with their grandchildren.

At some point, I find them selfish, doing nothing at all for the land which has nurtured them. Then, next moment I conclude that I am expecting too much out of this spoilt, instant food lover generation.  Why am I trying to see a Bhagat Singh among this dating freak lot? I would never be able find that spark here because they have got this freedom free of cost. The day it would be snatched away from them, I might see the same old fire. Mind you, I MIGHT.