Nurturing A Utopian Dream

“Ma! Ma! Ma!” Karan runs towards his mother, panting. When he sees that his mother is sitting
on the cot - cutting vegetables - he runs even faster towards her.

“Ma! I have been looking everywhere for you!” Karan exclaimed, his eyes glowing and his lips
quivering. This combination usually occurs when he is very excited.

“Yet, you didn’t think of looking for me in my usual spot?” the mother answered with a smile,
without looking up from the plate in which she was cutting the vegetables.

“Ma! Listen, na! I want to ask something, please!” Karan continued whining. Giving in, his
mother finally asked, “Tell me, what is it?”

Karan placed a paper in front of her. It was a painting of a unicorn using only orange, white, and
green colors. Also, for some reason, the unicorn had a huge blue wheel full of spikes in the
middle of its body. At first, his mother couldn’t understand what Karan wanted to show her.

Until she did. On the top-right corner of the page, there was a grade.

C+.

“Ah, that’s what this is about,” the mother said, quickly switching to a consoling tone. “It is okay,
love, it happens sometimes. Just make sure to follow the instructions properly next time, okay?”

“Ma! That’s the problem!” Karan cried in frustration, “I did exactly what ma’am asked me to! This
grade will lower my overall score, and I will not top 4th grade like I topped 3rd grade!” He broke
into tears.

His mother felt bad for him but also found it difficult not to find him adorable. The kid is barely 9
right now, but this innocence will be gone in a few years. She smiled to herself. Wait, did he say
that he followed all the instructions?

“Karan, what were the instructions? Maybe you didn’t understand them clearly?”

“No, ma,” Karan managed to blurt in between his sobs, “the instructions were as clear as my
grades. She asked me to create something on unicorn India.” The mother frowned, unable to
comprehend the situation. She asked, “Are you sure that’s what she asked for?” Karan replied,
“Yes, ma! She asked me to show her what I think about unicorn India! So I did! But she didn’t
like my unicorn!”

“Can you please show me the paper where the teacher wrote this instruction?” the mother
asked, still confused. What kind of assignment is that, she thought to herself. Karan ran towards
his bag and took out a crumpled piece of paper. He gave it to his mother and then resumed
what he was doing earlier - crying.

The mother took the paper and scanned through the instructions. Within seconds, a chuckle
made its way out of her mouth. “Glad to know my tears make you laugh, ma”, Karan taunted.

“You are not watching my soap operas with me anymore, you have mastered the art of taunting
these days,” the mother replied with a smile. She continued, “Also, my dear topper - you didn’t
understand the instructions in the first place, which is why you got the grade. You were
supposed to show your teacher what utopian India is for you, not unicorn India”.

Karan sat up in disbelief. He oscillated his eyes left and right for a brief moment, trying to
understand what his mother was telling him. He finally said, “You mean…they are not the
same?”

“That is exactly what I mean, dear”

“Well, what is utopian India, then?”

Mother began to answer, but stopped. She was not quite sure what utopian India meant. After
gathering her thoughts, she said, “Utopia is not a real place. It is in our imagination, something
that we want to bring to life - but just….can’t. So to answer your question, utopian India does not
exist.”

Karan was even more confused now. “But ma, if utopian India does not exist, how can I show
my teacher what I think of it?”

The mother replied, “Yes, love, it does not exist in our real world. What your teacher meant to
ask was what you would consider Utopian India to be like. The good part about it is that you can
get as wild as you want while imagining the world and wish for anything that you want to. And
the bad part is that most of it will never exist in the real world, ever.”
Karan didn’t pay much attention to the bad part. “So,” Karan asked excitedly, “I think Utopian
India will have lots of chocolates, unlimited TV time, and of course - no homework. Also, no
teacher is allowed to grade her students C+!”

The mother laughed. “You just don’t get it, do you, Karan?” She asked. “Wait, I have something
to explain the concept of Utopian India in a better way to you. Do you want to read a poem that I
wrote when I was in school?”

“You were asked to create something on ‘utopian India’ too?” Karan asked.

“Yes, of course,” the mother said, “what do you think, the dream for utopian India started now -
after 77 years of independence?” She got up and headed towards the cupboards. After ruffling
through some old documents, she finally found it - her diary.

“Ma, you wrote a diary?” Karan asked. “Not only did I write one,” the mother said proudly, “but I
made everyone around me do the same. Where do you think your father gets his journaling
habit from?”

“Wow!” Karan exclaimed, “now read it to me! I want to know what you think of utopian India!”

“Okay, okay,” the mother said as she flipped through the pages. She suddenly stopped at one,
scanned it briefly, and said, “Found it! I was in 7th grade when I wrote this. Here is how it goes!”
She straightened her back and cleared her throat.

“In lands of dreams,

where hopes unfold,
Is my Utopian India
And its story to be told.

Where unity blooms in a tapestry of hues,

And every heart's wish, the land pursues.
Yamuna and Ganga run clear, embracing the land,
Bracing mountains, valleys, and sands.

Farms of green stretch to the horizon's end,

Nature and humankind, forever blend.
In Utopian India, compassion reigns,
 No differences linger, no bitter chains.

Hands are extended,

regardless of creed,
Harmony's anthem,
a nation's need.

Education dances in every street,

Ignorance defeated, in its retreat.
Learners and thinkers, a vibrant array,
Utopian minds, lighting the way.

Innovation blossoms with every morn,

Technological marvels are gracefully born.
Solar winds power cities aglow,
Clean energy's triumph, a vibrant flow.

No hunger persists, we cater to every child in need,

Utopian hearts perform countless good deeds.
Food and shelter, a universal right,
In this perfect realm of endless light.

Culture thrives, Hindu-Muslims unite,

Diwali and Eid, like stars in the night.
Diversity celebrated, stories unfold,
A tapestry of tales, a treasure to behold.

Leaders are servants, guided by love,

Wisdom and justice like a cooing dove.
Empowering voices, fostering peace,
In Utopian India, all conflicts cease.

Yet, let us remember, perfection isn't real,

But Utopian dreams are humanity's zeal.
 Let this vision guide us, inspire our deeds,
To cultivate kindness, for all our needs.”

The mother paused for a breath. She had a look of pride in her eyes as if she was reminded of
the patriotism within her.

“That was amazing, mom! I can’t believe you used to write so well! Can you teach me how to
write too? I want to write a poem on Utopian India as well!” Karan said excitedly.

“Of course, love,” the mother replied, “of course, I'll teach you.”

“Ma! Ma! Ma!”

“What is it now, Karan?” the mother said as she looked up from the novel that she was reading.

“I just finished writing my poem on Utopian India! I want to read it to you.”

Karan now had his mother’s undivided attention. She carefully bookmarked the page that she
was on and set it aside on the table. “Go on,” she said, “I want to hear it!”

“Okay mom,” Karan said as he smiled nervously. After taking a deep breath, he started:

“I know utopia doesn’t exist

But my utopian India will one day.
I can see it coming to life, bit-by-bit
Mark my words, I say!

Slowly we will remove the hate,

That keeps us away from each other.
Every Indian will be each other’s mate,
And my utopian India will be their mother!”

Karan paused. “Ma, is love and respect enough to build our utopian India? That is all I can think
of while writing the poem.”
The mother replied, “For starters, yes. Loving and respecting everyone around us, irrespective
of their class, religion, or any other parameter should be a great way to start building our utopian
India. It is so simple, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma,” Karan said, “it is!”