Although born in 1942, Bachchan can recall little about the historic times. What remains are dramatic moments - horned by the bull and fancy dress party with Rajiv Gandhi!

I was born in 1942 in Allahabad, Uttar Pradesh’s small town in pre-independence India. Not quite an ‘independence at midnight’ child and also not quite aware of my bearings and circumstances.

Early years, they say, are the most formative for a child, so all parenting is guided consciously towards conduct, information, habits, learning and moral upbringing. I believe I was the beneficiary of all that and more. But very little remains with me about the turbulent and historic times I was born in—1942, the initiation of the Quit India Movement, with Allahabad at the centre of its thrust; 1947, our Independence and the subsequent horrors of Partition; 1948, the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi and Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru becoming the first Prime Minister of independent India.

Funnily, what remains with me are moments that were dramatic to me at an impressionable age. The bull that horned me in the playing field, my father’s fire brigade friend and his wondrous fire engine, Holi revelry at the house, my fourth birthday fancy dress party and my little friend Rajiv Gandhi coming dressed as a freedom fighter, my father dressing up as an army officer for compulsory military training under the UOTC (the University Officers Training Core), the rickshaw and tonga rides in the city squares and the solemn site of the cortege of Gandhiji, my father marching along, bringing his ashes for immersion at Sangam, Triveni.

It all comes back.

Today I am asked to ‘send in’ 1,000 words of my impressions on the 60th anniversary of our Independence. To express what ‘India needs to do to get it right’, to ‘look at the unfinished agenda of Independent India, to wonder what we need to do to pull up our socks and to be 'irreverent' about it in my writing!

That last remark consumes me and is, what I believe, the existing ailment of our glorious country.

As a nation we have stopped revering ourselves. Our pessimism has consumed us. We continuously find fault with ourselves, with our system, with our governance and have forgotten to acknowledge the good that we possess in abundance.

Yes, a lot needs to be done. But what we first need to do is develop a national character. A character that desires to work selflessly and individually in committing itself to the nation. We have mastered the art of blaming the system for all our inadequacies. We need to ask what we can do for the nation rather than what it has done for us. We need to become that individual soldier and policeman of the nation, that street cleaner, garbage collector, rules and regulation follower, that concerned neighbour and citizen. We need a medium that reaches out to the entire world and talks of our positives rather than bring up our ugly, negative traits. Communication is now instant. What comes into our drawing room goes to every drawing room in the universe. Do we need to show what a bitter, cynical, inefficient nation we are or do we want to showcase the wonders of this beautiful and unique country?

I spent 14-15 years of my early years in small-town India and for the rest of my 50 years in the urban metropolises. My thoughts and views will, therefore, necessarily be urban. But 700 million of my countrymen are rural. That is more than three- fourths of the nation. How can we ever draw any assessment by ignoring them? How many of us are aware of our villages and their conditions? I had a taste of it during my short stint in politics. How can I ever forget the reverence shown by an entire village in my constituency towards their most prized possession—one single electric bulb! A gift to them by Pandit Nehru in the 1950s. It was their only source of light! When night fell, the village gathered under it to meet, to socialise, to panchayat, to study. And we walk into our urban homes and with a flick of a switch put on thousands of watts worth of bulbs, air conditioners, heaters, fans, TV equipment, music, cooking ovens, washing machines, water pumps and shout, complain and scream at the institutions that supply us the power, or the system, when it trips or shuts down for even 15 minutes.

How can I forget that hundreds in the villages are miles away from a basic primary medical facility, from drinking water—women have to walk 20-30 km for their daily ration of water?

It fills all of us with guilt.

It also spurs us to work towards its rectification. And many do, God bless them. I tried as well. But fell a victim to another dread, politics. The equations of caste and creed and religion. The perceptions of vote banks and the eventual threat of the destruction of previous flourishing leadership, all dampening any pioneering or entrepreneurial efforts. So I retreated. But my heart bleeds. I still work at it, albeit surreptitiously, to avoid attention and its subsequent reactions. But it is not enough. More of us need to get into similar mode with selfless zeal.

But looking ahead let us not wish away the tremendous progress made, more particularly in the last 10 years. Leaders with a vision and foresight designed, what I believe, is the direction in which our country moves today. A direction, which needed to be given in order that we do not get left behind. A direction, which needed for us to make quantum leaps, to leapfrog as it were, to catch up with the rest of the world. I believe we do that marvellously well. The developed world moved step by cautious step towards its progress. We, because of our history and our past, have had to run, at times scamper, to jump. A fall or a missed step causes injury and requires effort to get up and start again. There is disappointment and delay and frustration. But I believe we have learnt the art of moving forward without remorse. We will take longer, perhaps, and the vacuum created through the quantum leaps will be possible obstacles, but we are overcoming them with determination and inner strength and confidence.

We possess the greatest minds, the strength of the greatest will, the guile of the determined entrepreneur and the strength of a vibrant democratic system.

We can do it. We are doing it. And we will do it.

Let us educate ourselves. All of us, universally and equally. Let the tone of our diverse and wonderful languages and cultures, be one—Indian.

In our culture we say: jab saatha, tab paatha! When you are 60, that’s when you gain wisdom.

On the 60th year of our Independence, it’s the year to be wise. To recognise our wisdom and to help it to flourish, till eternity.