Diary of Midnight’s children

16.08.11

[I was born with five hundred and others on the precise moment of India’s birth. Next day , i.e. on sixteenth August I received a letter from the ,then, PM Pandit Nehru, which congratulated me and said that my life will reflect India’s life. And now I think …]

Have sixty four years already passed? Where the time flies. I am old. … a tattered coat upon a stick… where palsy shakes a few , sad, last grey hairs, where youth grows pale and spectre-thin, and dies; where but to think is to be full of sorrow… but today I wont be egotist and self-cursing…

My sixty-fourth birthday went unnoticed. Because everyone was waiting eagerly for the next day, i.e. Today. Yesterday I wore black to support no…not Anna but my own long forgotten dream – to save my country. Optimism is a disease and even in my old age I was not spared. I will fight. …facing old age, Ulysses yearns to explore again…

I don’t know what the time will bring…

But I can smell , yes I do , its anger in the air… rising rising like blue flames burning like a midnight lamp