a radiant sun, as if the angels were showering petals of lotuses on mother India. And amid the air, the 3-dimensional holographic flag of the Aryan land kept on glowing, as if gleaming with the radiance of galaxies combined.
“It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,
mingles in the music of Jamuna and Ganges and is
chanted by the waves of the Indian Ocean.
They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise.”
Somewhere deep in his heart, Tejas could almost swear that he saw divine lights twinkling in the sky, as if the spirits of the glorius freedom-fighters who sacrificed their lives for liberation of India from British rule, the spirits of thosepartiots who sacrificied their lives protecting India from the claws of the dragon in 1962, from the green venom of religious extremism and terrosim in 1965, 1971 and 1999, the the spirits of those who gave away their lives for thecause of utining the motherland in 2029, had all assembled there, to have a look at the glorious, immaculate nation celebrating her 100th day of emergence.
“The saving of all people waits in thy hand,
Thou dispenser of India's destiny.
Victory, victory, victory to thee.”
As the holographic rendering of the flag completed, both Neena and Tejas could feel the warmth of this intense feeling, more real than life, more powerful than love, more glorious than religion, patriotism.
Vande Maataram.
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