Bimala’s orchid bloomed once, and then never again. She has been trying to get it to flower again, with no success. She compares herself to the orchid after experiencing the passion of Sandip’s praise and presence. As with all infatuations, the euphoria of it was depressingly short-lived. Like the orchid, she is now frustrated with her own ability to bloom again, and increasingly aware that what worked for her once may never work again. Also like the orchid, the implication is that her ability to thrive may depend on who cares for her. 

The national song of the Swadeshi enthusiasts appears in several contexts. For some, it is just a poem, or a tune, or a mere series of musical notes without any intrinsic meaning. For people like Sandip and his agitators, it is a piece of propaganda. It is a slogan that can immediately summon anger and other strong emotions, and that can galvanize those who have been conditioned to believe in its power to action. When a slogan is repeated often enough, it loses most of its meaning and becomes a mere chanting of sounds. The song is an example of how ambitious, unscrupulous people can appropriate art to advance their own prosperity and legend.