“Mr Tharoor, why this hurry?

Three minutes and ten seconds is hardly an unreasonable demand on a citizen at a formal national function. Indians routinely spend far longer waiting for political leaders, sitting through speeches, watching ceremonies and participating in public events. But when those same citizens are asked to stand in respect during the National Song, suddenly the clock becomes important. This is where Tharoor's argument becomes particularly curious.

A national symbol cannot be evaluated by the stopwatch. The significance of Vande Mataram lies not in its duration but in its history. Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay's composition became an anthem of the freedom movement. It was sung by generations of freedom fighters when merely expressing nationalist sentiment could invite colonial repression. It carried emotional power at a time when the idea of India itself was being transformed into a political aspiration. The question, therefore, is not whether three minutes and ten seconds is long. The question is whether a citizen can spare three minutes and ten seconds to honour a song that became part of the emotional vocabulary of India's freedom struggle.
Apparently, Tharoor thinks the question requires a debate. He has also questioned the wisdom of making the complete rendition part of official functions, describing it as an unnecessary imposition. Earlier too, he had objected to the full rendition being played at the beginning and end of official programmes. The latest remarks take the argument further by invoking human endurance. But there is an important distinction here. A person may have legitimate questions about protocol, frequency or the precise occasions on which a national song should be played. Such questions can be debated. What sounds particularly unconvincing is turning the duration of the song into the principal objection.


India has changed dramatically since Independence. A younger generation is growing up in an India that is more confident, more prosperous and more conscious of its civilisational inheritance. The 150th anniversary of Vande Mataram provides an opportunity to reconnect that generation with the history behind the words. The full rendition is not simply an additional three minutes in a government programme but it is an opportunity to hear the composition in its entirety and understand why it occupied such a central place in India's national awakening.

ALSO READ: Two Bangladeshis sentenced to 3 years, 8 months’ rigorous imprisonment in Kolhapur 

There is also a certain irony in the objection coming from Tharoor. He is a parliamentarian, a former diplomat, a prolific author and someone who frequently speaks about India's history and civilisational traditions. One would therefore expect him to appreciate that national symbols cannot be measured by the standards of a hurried schedule. India's freedom was not achieved in three minutes and ten seconds. The sacrifices behind it cannot be compressed into three minutes and ten seconds. The emotional history of Vande Mataram certainly cannot be measured in three minutes and ten seconds. That is why the argument about duration sounds so casual. It takes a matter of national memory and reduces it to a matter of personal convenience.

There is nothing wrong with being in a hurry in ordinary life. But there are moments when a nation should pause. There are symbols before which citizens can afford to stand still for a few minutes. Vande Mataram is one of them. Tharoor may be in a hurry. India need not be.