Fading spirit of celebrations- festivals, sports lose their soul

“When celebration becomes caution, and joy turns into dread, a nation must ask itself—what have we lost?”
India’s festivals were once the heartbeat of its pluralistic soul. They transcended religion, caste, and region, bringing people together in celebration of shared humanity. Today, however, they arrive not with joy, but with unease. The anticipation of celebration has been replaced by the dread of disruption.
This transformation is no accident. It reflects the ideological grip of an obscure outfit—a group whose vision of India is narrowly defined by majoritarian supremacy. Its worldview, now deeply embedded in the ‘powers that be’, seeks to recast India not as a pluralistic democracy, but as a monolithic cultural state. Under this influence, festivals have become battlegrounds for identity politics.
Security alerts now precede every festival, as if on cue. In states governed by the ruling establishment, communal tensions often erupt around these occasions—provoked by fringe elements who operate with impunity. Processions are weaponised, slogans are sharpened, and provocations are staged. The goal is not celebration, but polarisation.
Recent flare-ups in some places Odisha are a sobering example. Clashes broke out over religious processions and alleged provocations. Social media amplified the tension, and what should have been a peaceful celebration turned into a curfew-bound standoff. These incidents mirror a broader pattern seen in other states—where festivals are increasingly used as instruments of assertion rather than occasions of unity.
Adding to this atmosphere is the dread of the much-touted Bulldozer—no longer a symbol of development, but of demolition. Establishments belonging to minority communities are razed in the name of encroachment and under the guise of law and order, often without due process. The spectacle is public, the message unmistakable: dissent and difference will be flattened.
Meanwhile, the false spectre of religious conversion is repeatedly invoked to justify surveillance, arrests, and social ostracism. These claims, rarely substantiated, serve to vilify entire communities and distract from real issues. In parallel, temples are being erected in housing societies, public parks, and even traffic islands—not as expressions of faith, but as assertions of dominance. The line between devotion and imposition is deliberately blurred.
All of this unfolds with little fear of legal consequence. Institutions meant to safeguard constitutional values appear compromised or silent. The rule of law bends to ideological will, and the social contract frays.
Even sporting events—once a joyous extension of the festival spirit—have not been spared either. What used to be arenas of camaraderie and healthy competition are now stages for war cries, political posturing, and nationalist fervor. The spirit of sportsmanship is eroded when players refuse to shake hands, when victories are framed as ideological triumphs, and when fans are divided not by team loyalties, but by communal identities. Sport is no longer play—it’s politics in disguise.
As Rabindranath Tagore once wrote, “The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.” But in today’s India, even moments of joy are rationed, monitored, and politicised. The butterfly is caged.
Dr. B.R. Ambedkar warned, “If I find the Constitution being misused, I shall be the first to burn it.” That fire now flickers in the hearts of those who see the spirit of the Constitution—liberty, equality, fraternity—being hollowed out in broad daylight.
And yet, hope must persist. A festival loses its meaning when it ceases to welcome the other. A nation loses its soul when it forgets how to play.
To be clear, not all celebrations are marred. Across the country, countless citizens still strive to preserve harmony—organising interfaith events, sharing meals, and standing together in times of crisis. Their quiet courage is a reminder that the spirit of India is not dead—it is simply under siege.
“The greatness of a nation lies not in its monuments, but in the moments it chooses to protect.”
Festivals and sports should be moments of unity, not instruments of division. They should remind us of our shared heritage, not our fractured present. To reclaim their spirit, we must confront the forces that seek to redefine India in exclusionary terms. Civil society, independent media, and citizens of conscience must resist this drift—not with hate, but with courage, clarity, and compassion.
The soul of a nation is not inherited—it is protected, renewed, and defended. The time to do so is now.
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(Views are personal)

(Krishan Gopal Sharma is a freelance journalist, retired as a senior officer from the Indian Information Services. Contributed to leading dailies in India and abroad, covered major summits like BRICS, ASEAN, and Metropolis, and served as an International Media Consultant with UNICEF (Nigeria) for their Polio Eradication campaign.)