Regular readers of this column would know me as a strong believer in democracy and dissent. They would also know me as a 100-times stronger believer in national interest, in the unity, integrity and sovereignty of India, and most important of all, in the sanctity of public order. So, I had no intention whatsoever of being anywhere within a 10-mile radius of the foreign-funded protest unfolding at Jantar Mantar.

But then, on July 20, thousands of youngsters went and smashed their heads and bodies against the lathis of innocent policemen. The marauding students screamed so much that tear gas canisters popped out of the sky. Pellets materialised from thin air and embedded themselves in young bodies. All this made me curious. I felt an urge to see for myself what was going on. But I resisted the temptation, lest people misread my motives and assume that I was there to support the cockroaches.

If I ended up changing my mind, the credit goes to one man: Sachin Tendulkar. I couldn’t help but be moved, and inspired, by his passionate statement of unequivocal support for the protesting students. I thought, if even Sachin is courageously standing by India’s youth, maybe it’s at least worth checking out (without supporting it).

Looking for company

But I didn’t want to go alone. So, I asked my third-best friend, Alok, if he wanted to come along. He still owed me ₹110 for a beer we shared in 2014 that he was supposed to pay for but never did. I thought, in case the police stopped me and started asking questions, I could point to Alok and tell them it was his idea.

Unfortunately, Alok proved smarter than I expected. “I can’t,” he said. “My passport is coming up for renewal.”

“You have a passport appointment at 7 in the evening?”

“No, no,” he said. “My appointment was yesterday. It’s done.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“They have cameras everywhere. Latest facial recognition tech. I’m not taking any risk until I have the new passport in my hand.”

I asked my second-best friend, a GenX-er like myself. He said he can’t because he had plans to watch The Odyssey that evening. My best friend, a millennial, also refused, saying, “Paper leaks happened during UPA time also. It’s nothing new. NEET re-test happened and all went well. This is a time-waste protest.”

I walk alone

Fine, I said to myself. I’ll go on my own.

On Thursday, as I was leaving for work, I announced, “I may not be reachable between 7 and 10 in the evening.”

“Why not,” Wife said. “Going to a new watering hole where mobile phones are banned?”

“I wouldn’t call Jantar Mantar a watering hole,” I said. “Though there is a small chance of water cannons.”

“What? Why do YOU have to go there?”

“Once an anti-national, always an anti-national,” my mother said, disgusted.

“Papa, you are going to Jantar Mantar?” Katta said. “Can I also come?”

“Dei, you are Gen Alpha. Why are you interested?” I was mildly alarmed.

“You said you will take me to a historical monument this year.”

“I will,” I said. “But not to Jantar Mantar.”

“But why are you going?” Wife persisted. “You’re not even Gen Z.”

“He secretly thinks of himself as Gen Z,” Amma said.

“I’m a journalist,” I said. “I owe it to the people of India to go and check it out.”

“All the Metro stations there are shut,” Wife said. “How will you go?”

“I’ll manage.”

“There is also an Internet shutdown.”

“That’s why I said I may not be reachable.”

“What if they use tear gas?”

“That would be amazing,” I said. “I can write about it in my memoir.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Let me get you a wet towel.”

“Hello! I am not taking any towel-vowel.”

“Let him go there and shed tears for democracy,” Amma said. “He deserves both lathi-charge and tear gas.”

“Stop Amma,” Wife said.

“Enna stop?” Amma said. “These cockroaches are throwing such vile abuses at Modi ji! And this fellow wants to go and cheer them on!”

“I am not going there to cheer anyone,” I said. “I am going there as a neutral, objective observer. To document facts.”

“Don’t I know what sort of ‘facts’ you’re going there to document!”

“I don’t understand why she doesn’t understand,” I said.

“Okay, you better leave now,” Wife said, pushing me out the door. “Download offline maps on Google Maps. Stay safe.”

As I started down the stairs, I heard Katta yell, “Remember to take photos of Jantar Mantar!”

**

The author of this satire is Social Affairs Editor, The Hindu.

Published - July 28, 2026 07:03 pm IST