As I exited the South Block, its magisterial domes carved in cream and red sandstone were a mere silhouette on that dim, foggy morning. Thought to be the finest specimens of Indo-Gothic architecture, the dizzyingly tall ceilings and wide spaces projected the vastness of a young, burgeoning republic that has often pursued diplomacy with a certain meditative detachment, almost emblematic of its spiritual heritage.
At Vijay Chowk, a missile launcher got stuck at the turn, as motorised tableaux depicting the lives and cultures of many Indian states made their way to the rehearsal of the Republic Day parade. A nation relishes the conventional symbols of authority, with spatiality and symmetry defining their grandeur. It’s a primal trait among our societies to equate power with presence.

