It was a Sunday morning, velvet-cool but not harsh, with the kind of light that renders the edges of Wellington sharper yet more forgiving. The weather forecast said spotty rain on the horizon. At the High Commission of India, the building stood quietly proud, its tricolor emblem  everywhere in and around the building. Brightly clad children with their proud parents slowly streaming in through the gates of the Indian High Commission with murmur and laughter – a distant echo of home. Inside the gates, the warmth was evident from the pride, expectation and sensation of patriotism of the guests. The High Commissioner, Ms Neeta Bhushan, a figure of remarkable kindness and effortless diplomacy, presided over the celebration of India’s Republic Day with a sincerity that seemed to draw in both longtime residents of Wellington and members of the Indian diaspora alike. 

The highlight of the occasion was the flag-hoisting ceremony( see photo), a moment steeped in reverence and ritual. As the orange, white, and green ascended gracefully against the building’s background, the gathered crowd sang the Indian national anthem in unison—some voices carried pride, others, a gentle tremor of nostalgia. The third, fourth generation children doing their best to make themselves heard. For some of them, a visit to India might have been during the longer holidays or important social occasions, but – though still very young – they were aware of the impact their origin country India was having in the international arena and, of course, in New Zealand.   It was a scene that spoke of distance and belonging, of a homeland remembered and a home adopted. 

Along with this,the President of India’s address were read aloud with deliberate clarity. The words carried weight, even at this distance of oceans and continents. They spoke of India’s democratic resilience, its aspirations, its challenges—a reminder that Republic Day is both celebration and reflection. 

There were cultural performances. As dancers clad in resplendent traditional attire moved with a grace that seemed almost rehearsed by history itself. Classical music, Bollywood beat music, and harmonium-table combo swelled in the background wafting its intricate rhythms and soaring melodies. The temples, villages, bustling cities, clinging train and bus rides – all these and more went through the minds of the audience. These moments felt like a portal, offering a glimpse of India’s staggering diversity,artistic depth and hard working culture. 

The morning concluded with a reception, a simple but elegant affair where cups of chai mingled with the aroma of nostalgia. It was a time for conversations—children born in New Zealand listening curiously to tales of a distant India, while older attendees exchanged knowing glances over stories of shared struggles and joys. For the friends of India, this was a chance to experience a culture celebrated for its openness and vibrancy, a chance to lean into a world that welcomed them, even for a morning. 

The ambassador moved gracefully through the crowd, waving at people, listening intently, smiling warmly. Her presence, like the celebration itself, seemed to bridge the worlds that collided here—not with clamor, but with the steady hum of shared humanity. It was a morning to honor a republic, yes, but also a morning that quietly celebrated the bonds that can grow between lands, across seas, and between people. 

A “thank you” to Soren Neupane for sending this article to The Upper Hutt Connection.

27/01/25