How we were turned into a nation of elated suckers
They rain fire and brimstone from the patriotism pulpit, shaking and choking in righteous indignation at the violators of the Nation and chewing them up. They are almost always in suits, the enfants terribles of television. They rain fire and brimstone from the patriotism pulpit, trembling and tearing up at the very thought of a wayward glance being cast on Bharat Mata. They are almost always in whites, the perpetual campaigners on one election trail or the other. Both stand exposed — by an insider who has not yet di...