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Creative Writing: The Salt March

Decent Essays

The Salt March

March 8, 1930. It was a normal day like any other. Little did I know, this would be the day that my life would be forever changed. I briskly walk to my family’s tiny wooden table and sit down for dinner. My five other loud siblings have taken up the chairs and I am forced to sit on the floor. Younger siblings can be very annoying occasionally. The delicious aroma of Mom’s curry fills the air. My talented mom serves us a bit before sitting down. When eating, we discuss our day. While my brother is talking about a rhino he said his friend saw, I took a bite of my curry. I realize it needs more salt, but when I reached for it, I see it isn’t there. “Mom,” I say, interrupting my brother. “What happened …show more content…

At first everyone was quiet and whispering amongst themselves, split into small groups or alone. A lot of people were talking with Ghandi. I hummed a bit of my favorite song to break the awkward silence. My sister joined in and my father started playfully dancing, People turned to look at us but we didn’t care. I saw Ghandi smiling at me as he joined in. More people caught on, and soon we were all dancing and singing. After what seemed like a million songs, night approached. We saw a village and walked over. When we reached the village’s center, we stopped and looked at …show more content…

He talked about the British Monarchy, the unfair tax on salt, and even about Lord Irwin.
We spent the night there and then in the morning, woke early to march again. In his speech, Ghandi had urged the people to accompany us. It was very encouraging and a large handful of people joined us. People had gathered flowers from the bushes and as we marched we sang and threw flowers on the path. When we ran out of flower petals, we threw leaves instead.
Everyday we repeated the same routine, but it didn’t get boring. I always looked forward to the new village and new people. Each village had its own smells and looks that were never the same.
Finally, 24 days later, we reached the town of Dandi. The march had only started with about 70 people and ended with thousands. I was proud to be one of the original marchers.
The next morning, after giving a speech, Ghandi headed for the sea. He bent down and collected some natural salt. We broke into cheers and ran to do the same. As I picked up a handful of salt, I gazed at my sister in amazement. It felt good to directly violate Britain's unreasonable laws. Ghandi had taught us to use “peaceful civil disobedience” and by knowing I was a part of the change in India, I felt on Cloud

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