When I travel across our nation, when I hear the sound of waves of the three seas around the shores of my country, when I experience the breeze of wind from the mighty Himalayas, when I see the bio-diversity of North-East and our islands and when I feel the warmth from the western desert, I hear the voice of the youth " When can I sing the song of India?". What can be the answer?. I have so far interacted with over 50,000 school children during the past one year. I would like to share with you my answer to the urge of these children. If youth have to sing the song of India, India should become a developed country which is free from poverty, illiteracy and un-employment and is buoyant with economic prosperity, national security and internal harmony. To create this transformation we all have to resolve ourselves to work and sweat for the national development. I would like to share the song of youth, which I normally recite with the school children, here at this juncture. I am very happy to see the children present here representing the future generation. Through them I would like to convey the song of youth to all children of our country and the people.
We didn't speak of what went on to our friends – not because we consciously sought to conceal it, but because as the only reality we knew, we never realised that it warranted being mentioned. In fact, my friends' parents only came to learn of it when they happened to discuss my alarmingly poor mock exam results with a friend of my father's. "But you know what she's going through, right?" his friend had said to them. They didn't. They'd never asked why my father looked so much older than his years – so old, in fact, that he was sometimes mistaken for a veteran of World War II. If they asked why the man who answered the phone sounded drunk, we didn't explain the cause of our father's slurred speech. We just carried on. Because, for us, normal meant living every day on the edge of a precipice, waiting for the time we'd inevitably fall off.