A Tiranga hoisted atop a house that overlooks my window reminds me it’ll be 15 August soon. Somewhere, there’ll be an official flag hoisting, followed by a laddoo each distributed to whiney kids, ladies dressed in loosely inspired tricolour dupattas, hapless attempts to get one’s kite soaring, and calling it a day after cutting several fingers on the maanja.
The next day, just as quickly as it went up, the Indian flag would dissipate into the background, invoked the rest of the year only amid divisive politics.

