When we think of Bharat Mata, it is tempting to visualise a Goddess wrapped in a saffron sari, holding a Bhagawa Dhwaj in hand, floating somewhere along with a tiger mount.
When we think of Bharat Mata, it is tempting to visualise a
Goddess wrapped in a saffron sari, holding a Bhagawa Dhwaj in hand, floating
somewhere along with a tiger mount, an Akhand Bharat map on the background and
an obvious WhatsApp forward. But truth be told, Bharat Mata is a lot bigger,
and infinitely wiser than this ordinary depict. She is the heartbeat of a
civilisation so ancient that Rome seems younger by comparison with her. She has
the rivers and; hills, the temples, the songs sung at the harvesting, the
wisdom whispered by grandparents, and yes, even the chaos of a noisy vegetable
market. She stands at a curious crossroads where history winks at eternity.
Over thousands of years, Bharat Mata has survived invaders, colonisers,
ideological tsunamis, and today’s battleground of hashtags. Her story isn’t
just about survival; it’s about stubborn, graceful resilience and Akhand
Bharat. The idea of Akhand Bharat, often reduced today to a mere cartographic
conflict. However, it originally spoke of a huge family, bound by shared
memory, tradition, and a slightly maddening but charming devotion to the
divine.
Sanatan Dharma: The Original “Flex”
People often translate Sanatan Dharma casually as “eternal
religion,” which, for me, is a bit like calling the mighty Himalayas as just
“some tall rocks.” Sanatan Dharma is not a static or dogmatic belief system; it
is a living, breathing and vibrant philosophical discourse. It is a cosmic
playlist that has been kept updated for millennia without losing its original core.
It bends, it stretches, it absorbs. And like a responsible father, it ensures
everyone gets a plate at the dinner table.
Bharat Mata is the living embodiment of this spirit. Her
body is the geography of a huge subcontinent; her soul, the idea of dharma that
connects it all. She encompasses the present day India, Pakistan, Nepal,
Bangladesh, Tibet, Afghanistan, Bhutan and Sri Lanka and much more. Her veins
are the streams; her breath is carried in Vedic and folk chants and they are
still echoing from the ancient courtyards. And wherever Sanatan Dharma
travelled in whatever form, from the yoga classes in Times Square, Ayurveda
clinics in Berlin, temple architecture across Dubai or Moscow, Bharat Mata has
been tagged along. She is nobody’s property. She moves across caste, ethnicity,
religion, language, and region because if there is anything a true mother can’t
stand, her own kids bickering over labels.
A Mother Takes Shape: Bharat Mata’s First Portrait
Even the name Bharat is soaked in classical thoughts. Bha
means light or knowledge; Rata means devoted. Thus, the word Bharat can be
interpreted in Sanskrit as “forever devoted to knowledge.”But Bharat Mata, as
an actual figure, didn’t stroll onto the stage until colonial times. Poet
Bankim Chandra Chatterjee first whispered her name into India’s longing ears,
and later, Abanindranath Tagore figured her in his portrait. It was not as some
sword-wielding lady avenger but as a serene mother, dressed in sober, holding
symbols of learning and sustenance. In the oldest Vedic hymns, Earth is Bhoomi
Devi, the mother nurturer. Bharat Mata, with the same spirit, doesn’t cry out
for weapons or conquest. She asks for reverence.
Cultural Nationalism: Roots, Not Walls
The nationalism Bharat Mata inspires is not about waving
flags until your arm falls off. It’s about cultural nationalism: a kind of
lineage that reminds us where we come from without insisting everyone else wear
the same robe of uniformity. In her world, unity doesn’t mean cloning.
Diversity isn’t a flaw to be fixed; it’s the whole point. Bharat Mata watches
over the Sanskrit verses of ancient sages, the fiery poetry of Bhakti saints,
the tender steps of Jain monks, and the oceanic compassion of Buddhist
travellers. This form of nationalism doesn’t scream, “We are very special!” It
gently reminds, “We remember who we are.” It doesn’t demand partition; it
plants trees, tells stories, lights lamps. It’s not about drawing smaller and
smaller territories. It’s about tracing bigger and bigger hearts.
Akhand Bharat: A Friendly Word with the Critics
Just utter the word “Akhand Bharat” these days, and you’ll
either start a political argument or end up in a very awkward WhatsApp group.
But the ancient sages were never busy with borderlines and citizenship tests.
For them, Bharatvarsha was the place wherever dharma prospered. It is a place
where wisdom was sung, temples rose, and philosophy was debated over endless
cups of buttermilk and hospitality. Akhand Bharat is not a land-grab. It’s a
soul-connection. It’s the shared rhythm of Spiritual chants, Gandhara
sculptures, Angkor temples, Indonesian Ram-Leelas and Buddhist wisdoms off
shooting from the Himalayas. It’s not something to conquer. It’s something to
embed.
Of course, not everyone hugs Bharat Mata with the same enthusiasm.
Left-liberal thinkers have worried continuously that she has sometimes been
reduced to a saffron-wrapped mascot riding a tiger and looking suspiciously
election-centric. Their concerns cannot be tagged as crazy directly. If
chanting Vande Mataram feels compulsory, it stops being a song and starts
feeling like a loyalty test. And if the mother you love can’t be questioned,
then it’s not a mother any more, it’s a hegemonic dominating strategy. A living
democracy must allow its symbols to be discussed. The idea of Bharat Mata is
profound, wise and ancient enough to withstand a few awkward criticisms.
At her heart, Bharat Mata is not a party symbol or a
political gimmick. She’s part of an age old truth : the Earth is alive. She is
the Bhoomi Devi, Prithvi Mata, Vasundhara. Thus, Bharat Mata is not a
“Hindu-only” concept. She is dharmic, ecological, maternal. She belongs to
every Indian, be him or her Sikh, Muslim, Christian, Jain, Buddhist, tribal,
atheist, doubter, dreamer. You’ll find her spirit in Bulleh Shah’s rebellious
poems, Guru Nanak’s kindness, Kabir’s riddles, village church bells, and forest
monasteries.
Dreaming Collectively: Forwarding a Bharat Mata Mandir
Imagine a Bharat Mata Mandir which is not built by any
political power, but by the people themselves. It is a place stitched together
with love, history, and imagination. It would carry architectural styles from
all corners - Ahom arches, Jain pillars, Buddhist stupas, tribal art, Dravidian
towers. It is because Bharat Mata’s wardrobe is bigger than anyone’s political
manifesto.
At the centre, she would stand, with the tools of
exploration: a manuscript for knowledge, a handful of soil to sanctify
cultivation and production, a globe for universality, a diya, an earthen,
illuminated lamp for the hope and a Bhagawa Dhawj to represent the spirit of
cultural nationalism. Around her, a Wall of Citizens would carry the drawings
of poets, farmers, scientists, hunter-gatherers, soldiers, rebels, all
reminding us that our nation’s true essence comes not from the kings or rulers,
but from everyday dreamers. There would be a Hall of Dharma where the Vedas’
wisdom, the Sufi’s compassion, the Guru Granth Sahib’s unity, the Bible’s
mercy, and the animist-tribal’s indigenous systems of earth-honouring would sit
together, arguing, laughing, and hugging each other. And at its heart, there
should be a cultural museum showcasing every traditions and cultures of this
land and the people. And, at a corner, a library alive with books from every
corners of the world because nations are not built by slogan; they are built by
ideas.
Final Thoughts: The Mother Who Persists With Time
Bharat Mata is not some dusty relic in a glass box. She is
alive, evolving, sometimes facepalming at her children’s antics, but always forgiving.
She never ask for blind obedience. Rather, she asks for deep understanding. She
is not here to be marketed, she is here to be lived. To realise her presence is
to walk through her forests, sip from her rivers, sing to her musics, play with
her science, argue over her ideas, and carry her dreams into tomorrow. Bharat
Mata is not just hanging in there – she is thriving through the chaos, smiling
at the struggles, and turning every setback into a comeback.
