The reawakening of the oldest civilization - the Dharma Dhawja...

Taken from a X post.

A civilisation that abandons its memory signs its own obituary. The people who forget their ancestors dissolve into dust.

But we did not forget. We refused to forget. And because we remembered, we endured.

We stand today as the only last living pre-Bronze Age civilisation on Earth; not merely surviving, but reawakening, reclaiming, resurrecting its breath from beneath centuries of imposed silence. What was buried under foreign decree, distorted history, and colonial arrogance now rises again like a sun long denied the horizon.

Three of Hindu Dharma’s most sacred pillars were shattered by Aurangzeb’s hand in Jihadi vandalism. Among them stood the Ram Mandir of Ayodhya, the heartbeat of a civilisation, the cradle of a divine ideal that shaped centuries of Bhartiya consciousness.

And today — Ayodhya breathes again.
Its soil sings again.
Its skies remember.

Ram has returned not merely as stone and sanctum, but as civilisational restitution; a quiet yet thunderous declaration that the heirs of this land have reclaimed their spine. Kashi and Mathura now stand on the threshold of the same awakening, waiting not for revenge, but for restoration; the sacred undoing of historical wrongs.

It was not lost on me that as the Prime Minister @narendramodi ji signed off one of the most defining campaigns against the ideological footprints of the Timurid-Aurangzeb legacy, he invoked Macaulay; the architect of mental colonisation. For the true conquest was never just of land. It was of the mind.

Macaulay’s assault on our education system amputated us from our own intellectual bloodstream. It trained generations to view their own ancestors as primitive, their deities as myth, their wisdom as folklore, while glorifying the very forces that desecrated them. This deliberate distortion is why vast sections remained blind to the scale of persecution inflicted by Islamic invaders and imperial rulers; our history edited with surgical coldness to induce shame where there should have been pride, and obedience where there should have been memory.

But the spell is breaking.

This moment is surely political, but it also is civilisational and philosophical.

It is a Hindu revival against historical erasure.

From the dust of desecrated temples rises the quiet roar of continuity. From the fractures of forced amnesia returns the epic dignity of remembrance. What was stolen in fire is now reclaimed in light.

This is the homecoming of a civilisation fire.

And as the saffron flag flutters over Ayodhya, it chants aloud resilience, memory, and dharmic permanence.

The invaders came from Samarkand with sword and storm.
We remained with faith and time.

And time has chosen us.