Author’s Note: This piece follows right after last week’s piece. I can’t believe this piece came out as it did. I was trying to recreate how people could have gone from this flag
to this one
Along the way, I had to figure out which one was the original and which one Madame Cama actually presented at the Socialist Conference. Lots of sources online confuse both the flags. The actual flag Madame Cama presented is kept at the Tilak Museum, so that clears that up.
I was wondering what people would use to sketch in colour in 1907. Imagine my surprise when I found Staedtler was around since the late 1800s, and the oil pastels they made were about 50 years old by the time of this story. I assume there were other ways to sketch in colour before, but this seems likely for the time and characters.
It was also so interesting going through why lotuses are so important in India as to be the national flower. I knew all the things I found out, of course, but I hadn’t quite grasped it the same way about how important and unique all that makes the lotus.
And to add to the fun in researching this chapter, I had to figure out which provinces were considered part of India at that point in time. That changed a lot, it turns out. Penang was once considered part of India, and Burma at this point was still considered part of India. Aden in Yemen, as we have learned earlier, was part of the Bombay presidency. As a highschooler, I was taken in by writers like Shashi Tharoor saying “A Tamilian probably has more in common with a Srilankan than a Punjabi who he shares a nationality with” and I considered this one of the innumerable contradictions that was India… but now I know better - even those areas considered us the same until the latter half of the 20th century. I can’t wait to get to Pan-Asianism, given all this.
We were holed up in Tatya’s room. I found an easel in a disused corner somewhere, and set it up. Tatya pulled out his nice set of Staedtler oil pastels.
“It’s based off of the French tricolor”, Shubho made three broad bands - saffron, yellow, and green, and filled them in. He began scratching out what looked like a crescent moon in the green band, gave up and picked up Tatya’s small fruit knife, and continued.
“Sort of similar to the Italian tricolor” Tatya said, pleased.
He carved out a crescent moon and a star in the green bad next to a sun. Then he erased out what looked like eight little suns in the saffron. He picked up a blue pastel and wrote “Vande Mataram” in the middle.
“Explain”, Tatya said.
“The crescent moon—” he began
“What’s the eight suns and then the extra sun?”
“Oh, those are eight half-opened lotuses, for our eight provinces.”
“It’s not immediately apparent they are lotuses.” Bapat said.
“It’s not immediately apparent the sun is a sun too. It needs to look more…”
“Sunny?” I offered.
“There needs to be red.” Tatya said, “Honoring the blood spilled to free India.”
“Doesn’t look enough like the Italian tricolor?” I teased.
“Take the yellow out. Red in.” Bapat suggested, and Shubho drew again with the pastels. When he was scratching out the lotus-sun-hybrids, I interrupted.
“Here,” I said and scratched out lotus-looking lotuses.
As he wrote Vande Mataram in blue on red, everyone shook their heads and made various ‘no’ noises.
“What if it’s gold, though? It’ll look very bright and shiny”, Shubho offered.
I groaned. “No, that’s complicated. And will look awful on paper.”
“What if we make the middle band saffron?” Tatya said.
“Okay. Top band red, with lotuses, middle band saffron with Vande Mataram, and bottom band green with the sun and moon?” Shubho said, and started off another section of the easel with the pastels. I interrupted again with the lotuses. The man could only do top view lotuses, not side view ones. Those aren’t very recognizable as lotuses.
“We should just put the meaningful things in the middle band and leave the rest blank.” I said, “This flag has too much going on.”
“Our nation has too much going on,” Shubho said. Everyone laughed.
I tried another track. “Why do these need to be lotuses? Why not, I don’t know, jasmines or marigolds? They are more plentiful. And look more festive.”
“Are the Goddesses of education and wealth represented with jasmines? Does the Buddha sit on a throne of marigold? Do the followers of Buddha sing ‘Om Mani Mallike Hum?’” Tatya asked.
“Oh, correct,” I realized, “Why is that?” I asked. I really didn’t know why the lotus was so important.
“The lotus grows from muck, but rises far above it. And the leaves are on water, but each drop of water simply slides off the lotus, never leaving it wet. It is a symbol of divine perfection.” Tatya said.
“It is symbolic of performing your duty without attachment” Bapat said, “The lotus is the part of us that is divine and immortal”.
Something else didn’t add up.
“There’s only eight provinces?” I said, “There’s Bengal, Madras, Bombay, Punjab, Assam, and then there’s the United Provinces, and Berar. And then there’s the Northwest Frontier, and Baluchistan. Aren’t those nine? And I’m pretty sure there’s the Andaman Islands, and that small district in the Mysore kingdom where coffee comes from,”
“Coorg,” Bapat added.
“There ought to be 11 then? And I’m pretty sure there’s some more we’re missing. Isn’t Penang a province?”
“NWFP, British Baluchistan, Coorg, Andamans are considered “minor provinces. The major provinces are the ones you mentioned, and Burma. Penang is now part of the Straits Settlements.”
“Oh,” I nodded. I knew all this, but it wasn’t at the front of my memory, so when these things were patiently explained to me, I wanted to scream “I may be younger than you all, but I’m not stupid. I just don’t care so much!” But I thought the better of it and nodded, wide-eyed.
“But then we should have eight big lotuses… and four small ones?”
“That gives me an idea,” Tatya said, “Why not take after the American flag, and have a section just for lotuses? We can keep adding more lotuses as more territories join us.”
“Future-proof flag” Shubho said. Everyone laughed.
“Sounds like I missed a very funny joke,” said Mrs. Cama’s voice from the doorway.
“Mrs. Cama, this is Bapat’s friend Hemachandra Kanungo,” I said, as she came in and joined us, “He was just showing us his flag of India and we were…”
“Making it better.” Tatya finished.
Mrs. Cama beamed at Shubho. “Of course! You’re one of Libertad’s!”
Shubho saw our confused faces and added “Yes, he is sponsoring my education. Wonderful writer.” Sensing he might have missed something, he added “Have we met, Mrs. Cama?”
I did not know how someone could meet Mrs. Cama and not remember. But Shubho seemed to be on his own plane, so I wouldn’t put it past him.
“In passing, probably at Emma Goldman’s.”
“She never forgets a face,” Tatya added, “so don’t beat yourself up for not remembering her.”
We laughed to break the tension.
“What a wonderful flag you’ve come up with,” Mrs. Cama said to Shubho. He smiled, a tad awkwardly.
“What if—” Mrs. Cama grabbed a few pastels, and quickly drew the green on top, saffron, and then red. The lotuses stayed at the top, the Vande Mataram in the middle, and the sun and the moon in the bottom. She drew the sun looking very sunny, and missed the star on the moon.
“There,” she said, “Our eight provinces are the basis of our prosperity. Our sacrifices in blood make it so we are free as long as the sun and the moon illuminate the sky. And we say Glory to our Motherland with courage in our hearts!”
A stunned silence fell over us. I couldn’t move. Neither could anyone else, it seemed. A wave of emotion washed over me, and I had goose-flesh. Suddenly Tatya began to sing Vande Mataram.
We joined, moved by a single spirit, as our bodies came down in rapt attention, hands on our hearts, singing the song of our Motherland, in one voice, one mind, one soul.
वन्दे मातरम्।
[Novel Excerpt] A New Flag For India
Bigotry is your strong suit, not writing