Now that the Commonwealth Games have passed off without any major hitches we can all breathe sighs of relief. But the big question remains: was it all worth it? Did the Games justify the heartache, the humiliation, the moments of panic, and the vast expense?
Vir Sanghvi asks.
A man walking down the road slips on a banana skin and falls. We laugh at his misery. That’s the comic, writes Indrajit Hazra.
In lagos, you will occasionally find a chirpy, smiling youth called Good News or a surly youngster called big problem, writes Karan Thapar.
The Opposition really deserved to lose the trust vote in Karnataka. Their behaviour was, to say the least, completely despicable, writes
Manas Chakravarty.
With the Games over, the ‘banished’ are back in Delhi. Now would be a good time to come up with a solution to their accommodation problems, writes Lalita Panicker.
To save our rich heritage, India’s antiquities must be freed of antiquated laws, writes Suresh Neotia.
The prime minister and the Congress chairperson’s insistence on an inquiry into the wrongdoings in the run-up to the Commonwealth Games is encouraging, writes MR Sharma.
Actually, it’s Ashok Chavan. A book ban engineered by the newest Thackeray is the latest Congress boost to a failed sectarian agenda, writes Samar Halarnkar.
Multiple authorities with overlapping powers contributed to the CWG mess, writes
PC Sen.
Sardar Patel’s absence in Left and Centrist discourse is as deplorable as his co-option in Hindutva narratives. It is time for a reappraisal of the leader, writes Gopalkrishna Gandhi.
Corporate philanthropy can go a long way towards reviving national institutions and building new ones, writes Pratik Kanjilal.
Now that the Commonwealth Games are over, Mani Shankar Aiyar and others who fled the city have returned to Delhi to resume their tirade against those who organised them, writes Khushwant Singh.
The David Headley case gets curiouser and curiouser. As each new twist is revealed, I sometimes feel as though we are watching one of those American TV shows where every episode brings with it some increasingly far-fetched plot complication, writes Vir Sanghvi.
A noxious book like Trunk Call for ganapati being out there is far worse than such a long journey, writes Indrajit Hazra.
What is it about Doon School that makes adults in their 40s, 50s and 60s, as much as lads in their 20s, turn mushy? Karan Thapar writes.