When the Supreme Court ordered compulsory playing of the national anthem in the cinema halls last year to instil ‘committed patriotism and nationalism’ amongst our wayward citizenry, I merely shook my head sadly. What a ridiculous order, I thought to myself before forgetting about it.

A few days later, I went to see a movie. Kicking my shoes off, I pulled up my feet on the seat, balanced a pack of popcorns on my crossed legs and pushed the backrest to the maximum possible recline. But even before I could shove the first fistful of popcorns in my mouth, the national anthem began. I had forgotten about it completely. As people all around me rose lazily, I scrambled too and stepped on my bag placed next to my shoes. The popcorns went for a toss and the water bottle perched precariously on the glass holder rolled down, as I tried to muster a semblance of dignity for myself, and honour and pride for my national anthem.

It was over in just a few seconds, but in those few seconds my thoughts were not focussed on my nation or the anthem; they were focussed on me. I felt helpless like a prisoner in my own country. I felt coerced and devoid of dignity. My packaged water bottle had rolled down, the popcorns were a mess at my bare feet and a sense of humiliation at my ungainly behaviour, coupled with complete helplessness washed over me. Needless to say, my movie experience was ruined.