'Felt Like Kidnap': Sonam Wangchuk, Gitanjali Angmo Detail Horrors of Jail, NSA

In his first, most detailed interview, activist Sonam Wangchuk details his time in prison, media trial & NSA charge.

(Photo: The Quint)

“It was like being kidnapped by a gang,” said environmentalist and educationist Sonam Wangchuk, recalling the first few hours after his arrest in September 2025.

“I told them I needed to call my lawyer and my wife. And they said, ‘Yes, this is your right. We’ll ensure that you get it,’” he said.

“But once inside the jail, they said, ‘Oh! Under your article or the Act (National Security Act), no phone calls are allowed at all.’”

His wife and educator Dr Gitanjali J Angmo, who had spoken to The Quint a few months earlier while Wangchuk was still incarcerated, recalled being subjected to what she described as similar “trickery”.

“And they did the same to me. They kept telling me that once he landed in Jodhpur, he would speak to me at 7.30, 8.30, 9.30. I spent that entire night waiting for his call,” she said.

It has now been four months since the Government of India exercised its powers to revoke Wangchuk’s incarceration under the NSA following violence in Ladakh that claimed four lives during Wangchuk’s peaceful demonstration.

Asked about being “pardoned” by the government, Wangchuk quipped: “It’s difficult to say who pardoned whom.”

Both Wangchuk and Angmo said they were confident that the Supreme Court’s verdict would ultimately be in their favour, describing the government’s decision as a “retreat by a losing government to save face”.

But while Wangchuk endured the realities of prison from within, Angmo says the ordeal outside was no less harrowing. Together, they describe it as a multi-pronged battle against the “top two” in the country.

In their most detailed interview since Wangchuk’s release, the couple open up about the arrest, detention, legal battle, and the larger questions their experience raises about democracy, justice, and state power in India.

In one of the interviews that you did immediately after you came out of Jodhpur prison, you said everyone should go to jail once. Why?

Wangchuk: If you have not gone to jail, you should not marry. That means you stood up for some cause. I don’t mean for some crime, but for a cause. And jail is not such a horror as it is made out to be — not particularly if you are disposed to take on challenges. And even if it were, that should not deter you, because if you are deterred, if you are meek and cowardly, more will come upon you. So, the brave ultimately suffer less. They suffer, but thanks to them, others suffer less, while the meek suffer and keep suffering.

What do they say? Darte rahoge, marte rahoge.

Angmo: I think a better quote is this: when you find yourself in darkness, sometimes it may be because you’ve been planted. And from there, you can sprout into a beautiful plant. So, not all darkness is bad.

You are one of the few people who has been pardoned by the government. You’ve joined a long list of people who were selectively targeted following a witch hunt that culminated in what was expected. Were you expecting the government’s move when you were first told about it?

Wangchuk: No, and it’s difficult to say who pardoned whom. Because anybody who followed this case saw that the Supreme Court was moving in the direction of finding nothing on our part, thanks to her advocacy and persistence in the courts. Layer by layer, it became clear that there was really nothing.

And at that point, my detention was revoked with a very beautiful statement, which kind of mellowed me. It said this was being done to build an environment of mutual trust for meaningful dialogue. Now, how could somebody say something nasty to that? Because all we were struggling for was exactly that — meaningful dialogue with the government to resolve this long-standing issue. So when I came out, I came out with rather gentle words.

And some people even asked, “Did they have a deal?” “Why isn’t he angry? Where’s the bitterness?” Journalists asked me that, and I kind of pardoned them for expecting that bitterness, because I thought: here they are, talking about building trust and meaningful, constructive dialogue.

I should give them the benefit of the doubt and believe it until proven otherwise. But with each passing week, I’m finding that there is very little building of trust or meaningful, constructive dialogue. I wasn’t expecting this.

What I was expecting was, insaaf ke ghar der hai, andher nahi. Sooner or later, things would come out, and the courts would know, the nation would know, whether I was anti-national or guilty on any front. You know, this was not just a six-month incident.

It was my lifelong tapasya of always trying to be on the right side. And if, after decades of being on the right path, I were still proven wrong, then I would lose faith in Satyamev Jayate. So it’s good that it didn’t go that way.

I still want to believe that they realized the mistakes made — whether they were misunderstandings or intentional actions. It’s for them to find out. It’s for the Inquiry Commission to find out why all this happened.

But it’s good that they revoked it before the Supreme Court delivered a judgment with sanctions, which is what they avoided. And therefore, pardon — it’s a very tricky thing. Who pardoned whom?

Angmo: I would like to add that while the revocation helped him in his individual case, and helped Ladakh because it opened the possibility for constructive dialogue, it did not help add knowledge to the judicial system. It was a very well-fought case with many nuances, and it could have served as a deterrent in several other cases where people are wrongfully detained under the NSA or similar laws — baseless detentions without evidence.

So that is a national loss, I would say, because a country grows by adding knowledge to its institutions. And this was a very good opportunity to have added that precedent to the legal system, which we, as a nation, have now lost.

You mean if the courts would have given a decisive judgement in the matter?

Angmo: Yes, that judgement would have helped in the coming years.

Wangchuk: It could have set a good precedent for the nation, for bureaucrats, on how to behave, and how to use constitutional provisions wisely for nation-building rather than for scaring people.

Angmo: The case was so flimsy. I mean, it was such an open-and-shut case that an enlightened country, an enlightened government, and an enlightened judiciary would have delivered a strong judgment. It would have held the people who wrote the detention order liable and asked them to explain why they went ahead with such a flimsy case.

Then we could have truly said: yes, we are the mother of democracies; yes, we are a Vishwaguru; and yes, we are everything we claim to be.

Instead, this was a retreat by a losing government trying to save face, using its executive power to simply revoke the order. We value that on an individual basis, and for Ladakh, but not for the nation.

In your first press conference after being released, you repeatedly said one thing: “this little one moved heaven and earth.” We have spoken in the past. How do you look back now at that time, compared to today — from that conversation we had then to where things stand now?

Angmo: As Charlie Chaplin said, what looks like a tragedy in the short term can, in the long shot, appear as humour.

It was an attack on multiple levels. On one hand, he was detained.

On the other hand, there was a rumour that I might be detained as well. On a third front, there was the entire machinery operating against us. Apart from physical surveillance, there were CBI raids, ED action, IT department notices, GST department scrutiny — everything was unleashed, including FCRA-related pressure.

So between visiting Jodhpur, going to lawyers to prepare for the next hearing, appearing before the Supreme Court, and keeping the matter alive in the media, I also had to travel to Jammu and Chandigarh to handle demands worth crores that were levied on us — and to try to reverse them. It felt like all hell had broken loose.

Sometimes you would wake up at 3 in the morning to use the washroom, and accidentally scroll your phone and find another notice from the ED or the CBI. It was relentless from their side. They had the entire machinery at their disposal — funded by taxpayers’ money.

It was a very unequal fight. On one hand, it was the Government of India, with the number 1 and number 2 effectively orchestrating the whole thing, with the entire machinery and resources at their disposal. For them, an SGI — the Solicitor General of India — appearing and asking for a date next week did not matter much. But in our case, even an extra hour or a week meant another day of him being in jail.

And we were very lucky, thanks to Sonam’s image across the country, that we did receive support from almost every quarter. I couldn’t even distinguish between what is “Godi media” and what is not — every channel seemed to be with us.

Wangchuk: And the wonderful lawyers.

Angmo: That’s what I’m coming to. And also the lawyers, who together could have cost us crores, decided to help us pro bono.

So, as you said, Satyamev Jayate has two components to it. And that is why today we have this crisis of Satya and consciousness. The reason people have to sell out is because everybody has skeletons in their closet, you know.

So whenever there is an ED raid or something, people chicken out. But in our case, it was a life lived for both of us — 50 years of living based on the principles of truth.

There was nothing they could dig out.

And the ability to stand up and fight for truth — there are two aspects to Satyamev Jayate.

Though we were never together except for that one hour a week, every time I would take a step or make a strategic move, he would have written on his paper that this is what Gitanjali should do. And I would have already done it the previous week and gone and said, “This is what I have done.” And he would say, “Look, this is what I wanted you to do.” So there was a complete understanding — it was like a jugalbandi.

You said you couldn’t distinguish between different kinds of media. I would like to agree to disagree a bit there.

Because I’m not sure how much was reaching you when you were imprisoned. You were obviously busy with a lot of things. But the media did play a huge role in building a narrative against you.

Even before you were imprisoned, and even after the violence happened, there was a ramping up of fake news narratives about your Islamabad visit — which is on record, and why you were there. Your meeting with Mr. Muhammad Yunus is also on record, and why you were there. But all of that was being used not just by mainstream TV media or debates, where spokespersons of a particular party or leaning were given a free hand to say whatever they wanted without being counter-questioned, but also through an entire social media machinery — a coordinated ecosystem, everything put together.

And I’m sure you had some sense of it even before your arrest, because you have said in interviews prior to your arrest that I know for a fact.

Angmo: Let me just clarify what I meant. You are right — before he was detained and after that, there were some channels that went hammer and tongs against him. But then I was consistently pushing back against that through my Twitter and other platforms.

But I’m mentioning that after a month of what had happened, the tide just turned. And then most of the media houses that invited me for podcasts — across both pro and anti viewpoints — at some point seemed to develop a softer corner for this issue.

Wangchuk: And I think the viewers are more discerning than people assume. People see through labels like “he’s an anti-national” or whatever else is being said. I think it does more damage when it goes beyond a point of belief or disbelief.

And that’s why, finally, it came to a revocation.

But both of you agree there was a system unleashed to target you?

Angmo: Oh yes, there were trollers.

Wangchuk: Early phase, and when they saw that this was counterproductive, that this was actually doing more damage, I think it lulled down. That's what people tell me.

Angmo: That is what I found extremely interesting. As I said, on one hand they had the entire machinery, we had nothing. But organically, the whole nation stood by us.

So even though they had a thousand trolls making those comments, there were another thousand or more organic viewers and audience members who were tweeting or writing about it.

Wangchuk: I think it's good — and lucky — that it was me, about whom people already knew a bit beforehand, and she was making sure they knew if they didn’t. Because anybody else — and I’m sure there are many — would just be buried under such false news and propaganda. So, in a way, the fact that it happened to me and didn’t succeed is a good thing, because one would think ten times before using the same formula next time.

And I think people would have learned how to watch the news. Next time it happens, they would say, “Don’t believe everything. You remember what happened to Sonam Wangchuk last time?”

So this Mr. So-and-so or Ms. So-and-so — we have to fact-check. We can’t just blindly consume. That’s one of the problems.

Worse than the media being compromised is the viewers being compromised.

The entire tag, the entire narrative that gets built around somebody being called anti-national — and this was a government, this was a party whose spokespersons, leaders, and ministers had openly and publicly felicitated you in the past. They knew of your work.

And suddenly there was a flip — how did you look at that shift, and what did the label “anti-national” make you feel?

Wangchuk: It was so irrelevant that it didn’t bother me at all. People who visited told me there was this campaign, and I just laughed it off. When something goes beyond a point, it amuses you more than it worries you.

How was the first week like; with no contact and no resources to your disposal?

Wangchuk: Yeah, the first week was ugly because, as I was arrested, I told them I needed to call my lawyer and my wife. And they said, “Yes, this is your right. We’ll ensure that you get it.”

So in the car, they kept saying, “From the airport,” which I understood only later. I didn’t know — I thought I would be kept in Leh. Then it turned out it had something to do with air travel because they were taking me towards the airport.

And it was late afternoon. No flights ever operated from Leh at that hour. Then it turned out there was a special aircraft for me. I felt too honoured.

Then they said, “When we land in Chandigarh, you will be able to call from there.”

And in Chandigarh they said, “We’ll land in Jodhpur. We’ll definitely connect you to your lawyer and your family from there.” And in Jodhpur they said, “Now we are just about to reach the jail, and the jail authorities will connect you.” And in the jail they said, “Oh, under your article or the Act, no phone calls are allowed at all.”

And the ones who were taking me from Leh disappeared. So it was like a cheap, dirty trick to put me in without any connectivity — not even to a lawyer — to tell them I was being taken away. 

Angmo: And they did the same thing to me. They kept telling me that when he landed in Jodhpur, he would speak to me — at 7:30, 8:30, 9:30. That whole night, I kept waiting for his call.

And then, you know, you start wondering where they have taken him.

You wonder whether it is even Jodhpur, as they were saying, because he should have landed by 7:30. I remember I didn’t sleep the whole night. And then the next morning, the guy who informed me — the SHO — refused to take my calls after that. So I think this is a violation of Article 32.

Wangchuk: This is not done. It’s called law and order. The police and the system are supposed to represent law and order.

There was neither order, nor was it legal. And you don’t expect the people who are supposed to run the system and maintain law and order to behave in this kind of way. It looked more like I had been kidnapped by a gang than taken away by law-enforcing authorities.

So then, by the first or second day, the jail authorities said, “You just forget it. Calm down for a week — nothing is going to happen.” So for a week, I had no contact whatsoever with the outside world. And that’s not done in a democracy — leave aside the “mother of democracy.”

Angmo: Yeah, and this is more like sub-Saharan, you know. Because in developed countries, justice is not obstructed. Even when you detain somebody or arrest somebody, he or she has proper recourse to a lawyer, to their family, to fight their case.

Whereas in India, I have seen that the person, for instance, he's taken in and a detention order is given to him and he's not allowed to meet anybody. He does not even have a copy of NSA, you know, for a week. How can they just give him the detention order when he's inside and not give a copy to the family who's outside if you're not allowing them to meet him?

And not just when he was detained in the first week, right throughout the Supreme Court when the hearing was happening, the jail authorities were obstructing the flow of paper. If I left some paper for him to read, it would not be given to him. If he wanted to give me some papers, it would not be given to me.

SYeah, and this is more like sub-Saharan, you know. Because in developed countries, justice is not obstructed. Even when somebody is detained or arrested, he or she has proper recourse to a lawyer, to their family, and the ability to fight their case.

Whereas in India, I have seen that the person — for instance, he is taken in, a detention order is given to him, and he is not allowed to meet anybody. He does not even have a copy of the NSA for a week. How can they just give him the detention order when he’s inside, and not give a copy to the family outside if they are not allowing them to meet him?

And not just during the first week when he was detained — right through the Supreme Court hearings, the jail authorities were obstructing the flow of papers. If I left some papers for him to read, they would not be given to him. If he wanted to send me some papers, they would not be given to me.

So we realised this when we were in front of the advisory board, around the 23rd. He had sent a representation. So he had sent a separate representation, and I had sent a separate representation, because whatever I had sent to him hadn’t been given to him, and whatever he had sent to me wasn’t given to me.

And even though lawyers are allowed in the interest of justice, it’s like one hour a week, which is hardly any time to strategize or think. And then you are sitting in front of a police officer with a CCTV camera right over your head, which can record anything you are writing.

So whatever you are strategizing against the very government, that government has complete access to it. And after I came out, they would even take pictures of my notes — whatever I had noted down.

Wangchuk: This is family, but legally, when you meet your lawyer, you are supposed to have the privilege of privacy with them. Even then, it would be under CCTV surveillance, with a police officer sitting right next to you, within earshot. It was amusing to see one of the top three governments in the world fearing this little...

Worse than that, they would tell me — I didn’t want to share these things, but anyway, now that the trust-building hope I had, because of which I kept saying “who’s pardoning whom,” is fading away, I’m sharing it. Secondly, because we’ll write about this in detail in a book.

But anyway, not only were they obstructing justice, they would also tell me that it had been sent.

So I would stay calm, thinking that my paper had reached its destination. And they were outright lying.

Last time we spoke, she told me in even the smallest of things, like giving you a newspaper to read and any article about you would be cut in it?

Wangchuk: I took it in stride. It was amusing for me. And it became normalized that if there was a hole in the newspaper, it meant there was something about me.

Within a week or two, I had developed the knack of figuring out what was in the paper from the size of the hole, the page it appeared on, and what day it was. If it was a hearing day, and then the next day there was a small hole on a back page, it meant the hearing had been postponed. I understood.

And it would always turn out to be true. And if it was a big hole on the front page — okay, the hearing had happened.

Angmo: And he saw that I was handling things outside very strongly, you know, professionally. Things were moving. So I think, even without talking to each other or saying anything, we were doing the right things, which kept both of us going.

Wangchuk: But I would say it was still very unequal because I had come to terms with it all, and I was actually relaxing, reading, writing, meditating, and having the time I had longed for for decades. I always felt I should have a break for reflection. And I was thoroughly, fully making the most of it.

And the poor little thing — she was running from pillar to post. So I would say that inside the jail, it was not as painful or horrific as it was outside. At one point, she was being chased by cars and motorcycles everywhere she went, and at every gate of the building where she lived or stayed, there would be people waiting to follow her wherever she went.

And then she had to work with the lawyers, strategize, and get material that only I had and was not allowed to be shared. Somehow, we managed to get it out. And at the right time — we won’t tell you how — that remains a suspense, a suspense for another place, another time.

But all of that — and then communicating with the nation through media channels like yours, and many others who supported us — mattered immensely. So we are really grateful to the right-thinking media, except for a few who did try, but didn’t get very far.

And the lawyers, and the public support, with all the attention on the case proceedings — it is these things that yielded results.

Angmo: And I had a picture in my karate uniform after my world championship, you know, which a lot of people said reminded them of Charlie’s Angels. So I thought to myself, now’s the time — I truly have to become the heroine of Charlie’s Angels.

You repeatedly keep saying one thing: we should trust the government, we should trust the process, we should trust the system. But for somebody who has been targeted in that way — you know, when an entire machinery has been unleashed against you — can you still trust the government? Can you still trust the system?

Wangchuk: I am that way, you know — very optimistic. But of course, there is a cost. At some point, your trust erodes. So does that of the public. And then I’m afraid there will be anarchy if people completely lose trust.

Angmo: And secondly, I think we both are the kind of people who do not make a big deal out of our individual travails. Instead, we use them as stepping stones for systemic change.

So this was a very personal encounter with the broken system that we live in — be it the media, be it the judiciary, be it the executive, or be it the legislature. It’s a broken system that we are living in, and we came face to face with it.

But our way is to transmute it into a push for systemic change, as and when one is allowed to do so, you know. So we don’t carry bitterness on an individual level, nor do we seek revenge on an individual level.

Wangchuk: As for your question about how you keep trusting — yes, it slowly diminishes. But I want to express it this way:

“Shayad unki aakhri ho yeh sitam,

Har sitam yeh soch kar, hum seh gaye.”

Not everybody can deal with the system that is in place. We have Umar Khalid and Sharjeel Imam, who have gone for years without a trial. There are many other people who don’t even have that kind of fame, privilege, or societal support — vocal support, at least — behind them.

Similarly, in the movement, a lot of people were arrested and continue to remain in jail after the violence and everything that happened. What is the development on that front, and how do you look at the entire crackdown that followed?

Wangchuk: So it shouldn’t matter whether somebody is known or famous. It speaks more about the people — the citizens of the country. If others go through it and nobody knows, they simply languish in jail.

We should not let injustice happen to others if we do not want injustice to happen to us. We should act when it happens to others.

As for the specific case of the incidents in Ladakh, it has become a very, very ridiculous situation where I — who was named in that FIR, under which some 83 people were arrested — was named as the chief provocateur, the “mastermind.” And that so-called mastermind has now been released unconditionally, yeah?

Whether due to circumstances, pressure, or some realization on the part of the government.

And then — what do you call it — the foot soldiers of this “mastermind” are still in jail for much longer, or charges are still pending against them. It doesn’t make sense. It is absurd. If the mastermind has been released, how can you keep in jail the people who were supposedly following his instructions?

So that’s what makes people lose trust in this whole trust-building argument.

If this was truly about building trust for meaningful and constructive dialogue, then all those charges against those people should be revoked — absurd, meaningless charges. You know, people who were simply walking by were arrested.

And worse, people who had gone there from religious bodies to stop the violence — they had gone to stop it — were arrested.

So keeping such charges and cases alive against them, while this so-called mastermind is roaming freely, makes no sense at all. Therefore, I appeal once again: let sense prevail, and revoke the charges against all of them.

Give compensation to those who were injured through no fault of their own. They were simply passing by. And even during riots — if at all you have to shoot — you shoot people in the feet. You use rubber bullets, not live bullets to the head or chest.

No nation should do that to its own citizens.

Angmo: And you know, adding to this, that thought crossed my mind every single day. Whenever I would feel at the end of my wits — because it was tarikh pe tarikh, and nothing was moving forward — I used to console myself by thinking that at least we had some of the best lawyers representing us, and we had the media talking about us.

But not a single day has gone by when I haven’t felt pain for those 80% of people in jail awaiting judicial inquiry, who are not even convicted and who may not even have any legal recourse, or whose cases have not even come up.

I was told that 80% of the jail population consists of people who are not even convicts and who have not even been tried. And it is costing the exchequer 50,000 crore.

The problem in India is that it is the victim who has to prove that they are not guilty, instead of the person arresting them having to prove that they are guilty.

It has to be flipped. Only then will there be a deterrent on who gets detained and who does not.

Wangchuk: In some acts like PMLA and things, not in everything, but in some very serious things, you are supposed to prove.

The perception many people had after you were released — especially after the statements you made about trusting the government, and saying that you would not go on anshan right now because the government had agreed to talks — was that your stance on the whole issue had softened.

How would you respond to that perception?

Wangchuk: That’s how I am. When somebody says, “I am doing this for you,” my first reaction is to trust them — unless they are proven untrustworthy.

Just like justice is supposed to work. What do you call that? Unless proven guilty, innocent.

Similarly, unless proven otherwise, trustworthy. That is what guided me.

When a government — the government of the world’s biggest democracy — writes clearly that “we are releasing Mr. Sonam Wangchuk to build trust and an environment of trust for meaningful and constructive dialogue,” and if I still say, “This is bullshit, this is meaningless,” then that would mean I care more about my ego than my cause.

Because what if that derails the cause? Just so I can vent my grudge and vomit bitterness? That’s not wise.

I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, and I trusted them. But every week we see that no trust is actually being built. If anything, trust is eroding.

As I said, others who were arrested are still languishing under very absurd and very serious charges like “attempt to murder.” People who had gone there to stop the riot are being charged with “attempt to murder.”

Your institutions were also targeted; what has the government’s stance been on that?

Angmo: So they haven’t revoked any of that. Those charges are as false as the NSA charges were.

They sent a notice asking for the land to be given back because we hadn’t signed the lease agreement — but that’s because they themselves hadn’t signed it.

They gave us an NOC saying that we don’t have a policy in place, but that still hasn’t been revoked, even after one and a half — now almost two months — of his being out. They cancelled our FCRA, which they still haven’t restored. Then they froze our bank accounts, as well as those of our contractors, and those too haven’t been restored.

So they are taking their own sweet time, while we are running out of patience because we have an institution to run. So maybe we now have to take recourse to the law once again to restore all of this.

But again, going by the humour of things, the silver lining in this whole experience for me personally has been that all these positions which we once considered sacred or respectable have been demystified for me.

Be it the Prime Minister’s position, be it the Home Minister’s position, be it the Chief Justice of India, or the Solicitor General of India.

I remember, as kids, we used to memorize these titles. We used to aspire to become them one day, or at least look up to them — be it the Padma Shri or the Bharat Ratna.

But we have seen face to face how all these things are bought and sold, and none of these positions hold any sanctity for me anymore, at least personally.

So I feel demystified from all these trappings of the matrix. I feel liberated. That was the silver lining to this whole experience.

That there is nothing worth running after in this rat race of the matrix — right up to the top positions of Prime Minister or President. Everything is compromised.

So that is a deeply liberating feeling.

I still don't see any expression of anger.

Angmo: No, to be liberated is a good thing. You should be happy about it. You saw face to face how light these things really are.

In most parts of the country, people run after MLA seats, MP seats. People strive to become Chief Justices of state High Courts and all of that. But here, we have seen the very top people in this country. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the SGI, the Home Minister, the Prime Minister.

And when you no longer have respect for those posts because of the people occupying them, it becomes a huge liberation from the matrix.

I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that there is no expression of anger or any kind of bitterness for that matter.

Wangchuk: You don't react, you act. So reaction only makes you suffer. Act, and things may change.

Angmo: And you respond also.

There was not a single day in prison when you felt, “What are they doing? Why are they doing this?” “I will be able to give my answer in due time.”

Wangchuk: Of course, in due time, people will understand. But there was no restlessness or suffering because of that. I go by expectations.

If you have very high expectations, then when they are shattered, you suffer. But if you don’t expect much — if you expect the worst — then everything feels fine.

So, because of that, I was never really unhappy. I think my guards and the officials were puzzled. Why is this man always amused and laughing?

Actually, there was this very hilarious situation. My guards would say:

“Humare paas 8 ghante phone nahi hai, ghar se baat nahi kar sakte, kuch nahi hai.”

And then I would say, “Mere paas toh ek saal nahi hai.”

And then, when their 8-hour shift would end, I would say, “Adalat aapko baa-izzat riha karti hai. Jaaiye.”

As if they were the ones in prison, rather than me. I would practically have to babysit them through those eight hours, because they would get lonely and upset.

They were very sweet people who maintained utmost discipline, yet were very kind and compassionate. So the people at the jail were also very supportive. Of course, they were being instructed about what to obstruct and what to allow.

Angmo: But coming to this anger — you transmute this anger — and for me, that translated even more into the conviction that education is the key to the transformation of a society and the evolution of human consciousness.

Because, as we say in Hindi, “Jaisa raja, vaisi praja.”

So to me, all this — the way our institutions are being run — is only possible because the masses are being kept at a certain level of illiteracy and lack of education.

So the conviction behind what we are actually in the business of — educating the youth, educating children — grew even stronger. That it is only an educated mass of people that truly deserves good governance.

And an educational institute that has won so many international accolades, even recent ones.

Angmo: Yeah, we have been showcased at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London as a permanent exhibit, which is for the next 20-25 years.

Wangchuk: In a way, India has been exhibited.

Angmo: Yes, it is one of the only exhibits from contemporary India. We have 2,000-year-old Jain artefacts and all of that there, but from contemporary India, it is only our institute.

This whole past year — almost a full year now — something like this is bound to affect you on a personal level. Did it impact you as a family as well?

Wangchuk: If at all, it strengthened our bond even more, because we had to depend completely on each other — rather, I had to — and trust that things were happening for the best. So any differences dissolved even further.

I mean, in every family there are differing opinions. So if anything, we see this as a blessing that brought us even closer.

And I always say, she has been the best-kept secret — not just for the nation, but even for me. I didn’t know she was capable of doing such a great job coordinating so many things.