I very well remember that the first Republic Day on 26 January,1950, was bitterly cold and cloudy, making schoolboys like me shiver in the absence of the sun. Mr Galloway, a Scotsman, who taught English poetry and phonetics, tall, fair and big-built, asked me the meaning of "Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram" as he was not conversant with Hindi and Sanskrit, though he had a pretty good knowledge of Urdu. I fumbled with my reply until the science teacher, Mr P L Sharma came to my rescue with the explanation that it meant "truth is strong and beautiful". That's one very vivid memory of R-Day, which still sticks to my mind, long after both Galloway and Sharmaji are dead. Now that another R-Day approaches, how can old-timers forget the big event of 67 years ago, when the parade was held in front of the Purana Qila in the space where Delhi Zoo was to come up later?

That was when Dr Rajendra Prasad became the first President of the sovereign Republic of India and after unfurling the tricolour the parade began to the booming of big guns that made the old fort echo and re-echo with the sound. Jawaharlal Nehru was there and so was C Rajagopalachari, who had in 1949 taken over as Governor-General from Lord Louis Mountbatten, the last British Viceroy. Republic Day meant the remaining vestiges of foreign rule had ended and India could take its place in the comity of nations as a full-fledged republic. King George VI sent his greetings, thankful for the fact that the newly-independent nation would still remain in the Commonwealth. The king was to die not long after and one remembers that the news was received with great sorrow and a public holiday declared as a mark of respect to him.

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There were persistent rumours that Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose would now make a reappearance in accordance with his "Dilli Chalo" call, while Begum Taimur Jehan, a desendant of the last Mughal emperor, stated that Bahadur Shah Zafar must have surely turned in his grave since the foreign yoke had at last been lifted. But Mahatama Gandhi, assassinated just two years earlier, was sorely missed.

The R-Day parade held in 1950 was not such a grandiose event as now but still impressive in its own way. Few contigents of the Army, Navy and Air Force took part in it and there were no State tableux either. The parade did not pass through New Delhi and the Old City to the Red Fort from Rajpath as now. That was to take place later in 1955. The planes that took part in the flypast were not the jets and thunderbolts but Dakotas and smaller ones like Spitfires that were in use then. General (later Field Marshal) Cariappa was the first Indian Chief of the Armed Forces and a man, who had won laurels even in the British-Indian Army. A Coorgi, he spoke Fauji Hindi and told his men, "Aaj hum bhi azad, tum bhi azad aur hamara kutta be azad," which caused much merriment, though the General spoke in great earnestness to the Army ranks, who did not understand English.

Prof Khaliq Anjum, who was a young man then, spoke of the bonhomie in evidence on the occasion and so also Haji Zahooruddin, who had been a schoolboy when Queen Victoria died in 1901. Hajiji, who owned a hotel in the Jama Masjid area, distributed sweets bought from the shop of Haji Kallan, which were supposed to be the most delicious. In Chandni Chowk, the sweets distributed were from Ghantewala Halwai, whose shop had started business in Shah Alam's reign at the fag-end of the 18th century. This shop sadly downed shutters a few months ago for reasons beyond its control. Chandni Chowk was colourfully decorated on the first R-Day, right from Lal Mandir to Fatehpuri Masjid, and full of thronging crowds carrying marigold garlands and miniature tricolours. There were huge flags and bunting, flowers and banners. The Phoolmandi shopkeepers showered rose petals all over.

People greeted one another as they realised that eventually full freedom had been achieved, for Independence Day was just the beginning of a free India. At Gurudwara Sis Ganj, a big langar was held and also at gurudwaras Bangla Sahib and Rakabganj, where thousands stood in long queues to eat poori-sabzi and halwa. Connaught Place looked very picturesque because of the decorations, as it was the most fashionable market in the Capital. Among those who danced in its corridors was Ram Lal, the chiropodist, who used to treat bunions and troublesome toenails of the British soldiers stationed in the Red Fort and who came to him on Saturdays and Sundays to get their aching feet attended to after taking off the heavy boots that had caused them much misery. Ram Lal used to talk about that day even in old age with great detail as he was young and full of spirits then. One soldier gave him a Rs 100 note and when he ran after him with the change, he waved his gun at him, thinking he wanted more. Hundred rupees was equivalent of a Rs 2,000 note now.

The young men, who danced in Chandni Chowk, were the lathi-armed Bankas known for their slanted caps and long moustaches that gave them the sobriquet of Dulcimo Macaroni of Delhi. The eating houses of Fatehpuri, owned by Muslims, served their best meals while at Karim and other restaurants in Matia Mahal, the beggars were fed free to their heart's content and the kebab sellers and milk sellers offered a big discount to customers. At night all the public amd most private buildings were illuminated. The Viceroy's House, which had become Rashtrapati Bhavan, looked like a bride in all her finery. Parliament House, North and South Blocks, the Central Secretariat, India Gate and the All India Radio building were among the prominent places lit up, so also was the Red Fort.

There was dancing and merriment at the hotels and restaurants of New Delhi, prominent being Standard, Davicos and Gaylord. The dance at the Anglo-Indian Club was something worth talking about. There were the Miss Laws, three sisters, daughters of the Principal of St George's English medium school, who had come all the way from Agra to grace the occasion. The three beauties were the toast of the club, causing some jealousy among the local girls, who were no less prettier but marginalised by the outsiders. "Roses are red my dear, Violets are blue/Sugar is sweet my love and so are you" was perhaps the most liked song, followed by Sweet Clementine, and the refrain, "She'll be coming down the mountain when she comes".

The tipsy young men lost their hearts to the many girls present, who were all in western attire, with skirts swishing over high heels all around, but no Jeans as these were not in vogue then. Jimmy Pereira lost a tooth in a fist-fight with a boy, who had passed a rude remark at his girlfriend but made up with the assailant after he apologised. Sir Henry Gidney, president of the Anglo-Indian Association, and his deputy, Frank Anthony, after whom a chain of public schools is named now, were among the speakers at the club, conveying their greetings and swearing loyalty to the new Republic.

However, the Rashtrapati Bhavan dinner was the most talked about. There, Pandit Nehru and his daughter Indira Gandhi were present along with the chief guest, Dr Soekarno, the first President of Indonesia, and leaders like Dr Rajendra Prasad, Sardar Patel, Maulana Azad, Sardar Baldev Singh and Rajkumari Amrit Kaur, princess of Kapurthala, who had done much to relieve the distress of refugees coming from West Punjab and Sindh and the ones migrating to Pakistan, camped at the Purana Qila.

Going down memory lane in 1960s, Pandit Ramchander of Kashmere Gate, who was over 90 then, recalled that he had never seen such glamour in Delhi even during Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee and the Durbar of 1911. Sir Henry Gidney, who was born in 1873 and had taken part in the British expedition against the head-hunters of North-East India, was not wrong in his comment that Bharat, that is India, will now come into its own as the land where humans had reached the zenith of civilisation in the past and was now poised to replicate that deed. In this he was echoing what Max Mueller, the great German orientalist, had said. Amid all this fanfare the first R-Day ended, before the last diya had flicked off, with mushairas and kavi sammelans to make it a memorable occasion, of which one still dreams about, sometimes to the echo of the immortal words of Allama Iqbal: "Hindi hain hum/Watan hai, Hindustan hamara!"