As the din of Hindu nationalism grows louder and the juggernaut of neoliberalism propels jobless growth, catatonia seems to have struck the paan wallah, the LIC agent, the government school teacher, the average Indian. There is inertia in this sense of resignation to fate. It does not have space for the pleasant contentment of amor fati, nor is there the absolute horror of nihilism. It is just the dull rattle of a machine. India’s ‘Reserve Army of Labour’ inherited from the British Raj marches on to nowhere.

Stupor ought to be treated. And there are remedies. A particular kind induces delusional euphoria. And such a happy rush to reclaim a ‘lost repurposed gilded past’ is what many soldiers prefer. As with all delusions, they are removed from reality. But this mental state is what our pat

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