Am I a Bad Indian for Wanting to Watch Pakistan’s Independence Day Speech?

Disclaimer (Before You Grab Your Pitchforks):

Relax, folks. I’m not defecting, I’m just curious. This post isn’t about politics, borders, or switching cricket teams—It is a personal reflection on curiosity, culture, and the beauty of Urdu language. My intent is to explore the idea of listening, understanding, and appreciating words—no matter where they come from. Patriotism, for me, is not about shutting doors but about opening minds. Patriotism doesn’t vanish because I peeked across the fence; if anything, it makes my Wi-Fi connection stronger.

Every August, nostalgia and patriotism hit me like an express train. Being born and raised in India, August 15th has always carried the aroma of fresh flags, the echoes of patriotic songs, and the familiar sight of India’s Prime Minister addressing the nation from the historic Red Fort. Even after moving to the United States, my tradition continues—only now it’s easier. No crowded living rooms fighting over the remote, no shaky antenna struggling to catch Doordarshan’s broadcast—just me, my coffee, and a stable Wi-Fi connection. Ah, modern independence.

This year, as I tuned in to the Prime Minister’s speech, I was glued. The grandeur, the rhetoric, the history—it all feels larger than life. But mid-speech, something odd happened. A thought slipped into my mind, uninvited and inconvenient: “Why didn’t I watch Pakistan’s Prime Minister’s speech yesterday, on August 14th?”

You see, India and Pakistan share more than just borders. We share cricket rivalries that age faster than bananas, Bollywood songs that play on both sides of the Wagah border, and of course, a shared history so entangled that even Netflix would struggle to categorize it. Yet, politically and emotionally, we’ve been cast as eternal enemies—like Tom and Jerry, except with nukes.

So here I was, sipping coffee in the U.S., wondering: Does watching Pakistan’s PM’s speech make me a bad person?

The Language of Curiosity

First, let’s talk about Urdu. I’ve always been fascinated by it. Urdu is not just a language; it’s velvet woven into sound. When intellectuals and linguists from Pakistan speak, their words don’t just communicate—they glide. Even a mundane grocery list probably sounds poetic. Compare that to my own Hindi grocery list which sounds like a military operation: “Doodh lao, sabzi lao, masale mat bhoolna!”

So yes, part of me regrets missing that speech—not for the politics, but for the cadence, the grace, the verbal artistry. I watch Pakistani T.V dramas because I love their language, their choice of words and how sweet the words sound.

The “Traitor” Tag Problem

But here comes the dilemma. If I admit this openly in front of my extended family WhatsApp group, I’ll be branded faster than a hot tandoori naan. To them, even thinking about watching Pakistan’s Prime Minister’s speech on Independence Day would make me less “desh-bhakt” (patriotic) and more “suspect.”

Let’s be real: India and Pakistan have decades of blood, wars, and heartbreak between them. For many, patriotism means drawing a hard line—one that even a YouTube live stream should not cross. “How can you even consider listening to the other side?” they’d demand, as if I were secretly planning to swap the tricolor for a green crescent at my next Independence Day party.

But here’s the thing: curiosity is not betrayal. Curiosity is human. If watching a foreign leader’s speech automatically made one a traitor, then millions of people watching American presidential debates around the world would all need to be tried in international courts.

Patriotism vs. Curiosity

Patriotism doesn’t mean blinding yourself. It doesn’t mean you cannot peek into what your neighbor is saying, even if your relationship with that neighbor involves barbed wire and decades of mistrust. In fact, wouldn’t understanding their tone, their rhetoric, and their priorities make us better informed citizens? After all, the more you know, the harder it is for propaganda to pull your strings.

I am not saying I’ll stand up and clap when Pakistan’s PM speaks. No. But can I listen, appreciate the language, and still remain loyal to India? Absolutely.

Humor in the Hypothetical

Let’s imagine I did watch Pakistan’s speech. Would my loyalty meter instantly drop like my phone battery after a Zoom call? Would my Aadhaar card self-destruct? Would a secret Indian intelligence agent parachute into my living room shouting, “Caught you!”?

No. The most that would happen is my family would raise their eyebrows, and maybe I’d get some passive-aggressive taunts at the next get together.

And honestly, who among us hasn’t peeked at the neighbor’s Diwali decorations and thought, “Hmm… they did a better job than us this year”? Curiosity doesn’t cancel loyalty—it coexists with it.

Why I Will Watch Next Year

So, here’s my promise: next year, I’ll watch both. India’s speech on August 15th, of course, with my full heart. And Pakistan’s speech on August 14th, with open curiosity. Because being patriotic doesn’t mean being paranoid. It means being confident enough in your nation to also listen to the other side.

As someone who now lives in the U.S., I see both countries from a distance, and that distance makes it clear: knowledge is power, and listening is not betrayal—it’s maturity.

So am I a bad person for wanting to watch Pakistan’s Independence Day speech? No. I’m just a human, curious, open-minded, and maybe a little too addicted to love for languages.

If anything, refusing to listen, refusing to peek across the border, might actually make us weaker. After all, even Tom sometimes paused chasing Jerry to share a slice of cheese.