The Unfinished Work of Independence: A Critical Examination of India's Freedom

By Siddhesh Gautam Every year on Independence Day, I find myself wondering about two different worlds. One is the world of the nation of flags, speeches, celebrations and the nostalgia of freedom from colonial rule. The other is a more intimate world, the world of lived experiences, where independence feels limited, unevenly distributed and often denied. These two worlds keep floating in my head, conflicting and yet coexisting. As someone who comes from a Scheduled Caste background, I often try to understand independence through the memories and histories of marginalised communities. What did freedom mean for us before the departure of the alien ruler? And what did it become afterwards as we remain dependent on other forms of power, of caste hierarchies, social exclusion and inherited inequalities? For many people, independence is a feeling, a philosophical idea and even a state of mind. Perhaps it can be, if one possesses land, labour, resources and social acceptance. But for the rest of us, independence remains a deeply political and material question. It remains, in many ways, a state affair. I often ask myself: How independent does my state want me to be? What freedoms does it encourage, and what dependencies does it cultivate? Who is allowed to dream, dissent, organise and love? These questions become difficult to ignore when we look around us. We celebrate freedom in a country where Dalits are still murdered for asserting dignity, where Adivasi communities continue to lose their forests and homes for the benefits of a few billionaires, where Muslims are often viewed with suspicion, where Christians are frequently mistrusted, and so on. A nation cannot claim complete independence while entire communities continue to negotiate their basic right to exist with dignity. Freedom cannot merely be the absence of a foreign ruler; it must also be the presence of justice among the people. I worry, too, about the independence of young minds. We often imagine that today’s generation has limitless opportunities. Yet many young people are trapped inside dreams they never chose for themselves. They inherit aspirations manufactured by markets, by algorithms rather than imagination. Success is increasingly defined by consumption, status and competition. We are encouraged to become efficient workers before we become thoughtful citizens. To me, one of the greatest struggles of our time is the struggle to free ourselves from the pressure to chase lives that may be profitable but not meaningful. Independence is not only the freedom to choose between careers or products. It is the freedom to imagine a different society altogether, to ask uncomfortable questions, to dream beyond what is currently available. The question of independence becomes more urgent when we think about women and queer people. How independent is a woman if her mobility, safety, clothing or choices are constantly scrutinised? How independent is a queer person if their identity is a subject of debate or meme rather than acceptance? I also think about the independence of dreamers. Across the country, there are countless young people whose ambitions are not defeated by a lack of talent or hard work, but by corruption, discrimination and caste privilege. They encounter systems that reward connections over merit, hierarchy over potential. If a dream is denied because of caste, gender or social status, it should not merely be observed as an individual tragedy, it must be documented as a national failure. We often speak proudly about India’s diversity, yet we rarely ask whose culture gets celebrated and whose is expected to disappear. Which languages are considered refined? Which histories are preserved? Whose gods, stories and traditions are seen as truly national? Cultural independence cannot mean the dominance of one culture over all others. It must mean the flourishing of many cultures together. A democracy that enforces cultural uniformity eventually weakens its own imagination. For me, Independence Day is therefore also a reminder of the unfinished work before us. We certainly need freedom from colonial mindsets, but we also need freedom from the discriminatory values. We need independence from caste prejudice, communal hatred, patriarchy, homophobia, corruption and the belief that some lives matter more than others. India’s future depends not only on how we remember our freedom struggle, but also on how honestly we confront the unfreedoms among us. True independence is a continuous project of expanding dignity, justice and possibilities. Only then can Independence Day become more than a commemoration, a promise fulfilled. And then, we will not even need to celebrate independence on one day. We will feel it every day in our skin and bones. The writer is a graphic artist and author of The Blue Book