BANQUO'S GHOST

This phantom is on the ruling dispensation’s mind. Those who claim to care little for him dissect his loves and hates, day in, day out

- Vineetha Mokkil

AN apparition wearing a smartly tailored jacket with a gleaming red rose pinned to his pocket has been haunting the halls. Rashtrapati Bhavan, Raisina Hill, Lok Kalyan Marg, Supreme Court, Sansad Bhavan, Shastri Bhavan, Samvidhan Sadan—sightings galore reported. Sometimes, the ghost leaves behind pages from books: The Discovery of India, The Unity of India, Letters for a Nation: From Jawaharlal Nehru to His Chief Ministers, Letters from a Father to His Daughter, Words of Freedom: Ideas of a Nation, Independence and After...The list of his tomes is long. The pages are scattered around in no particular order. In the morning, when the doors swing open, those who walk in are free to gather them. Read them, don’t read them—the people’s choice. It’s all very democratic.

Some nights, snatches from his speeches appear on the walls in big bold letters. They are said to shine like lighthouses at sea, beckoning passersby, preaching the scientific temperament, preaching peace and the politics of integration. ‘‘Tryst with Destiny”, “Emotional Integration”, “The Plan is the Country’s Defence”, “Private Property and Public Good”, “Government and the People”, “The Temples of Modern India…” One man, many quotes. One nation, many hauntings.

Must he make a point at every turn? His voice crests like a wave, consuming the ones who are in power. The phantom from the past, draped in a dapper khadi jacket, twirling his red rose—he’s always on the ruling dispensation’s mind. Try as they may to ignore him, his voice rings out in their ears, day in, day out. He offers tips for stopping the nation from regressing. Throws in a