A Question, An Institution, and the Memory of Governance (An Evening with Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia) : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 A Question, An Institution, and 

the Memory of Governance

(An Evening with Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia)

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

              I received a phone call from PV Prabhakar Rao extending an invitation: ‘Bhaayi Saab, please join us for an informal conversation on December 30, 2025 at Hotel Daspalla, with Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia, who is in Hyderabad on our invitation to deliver the memorial lecture of former Prime Minister late PV Narasimha Rao tomorrow (December 31, 2025). Only a select group has been invited.’ I thanked him and said it would be both a privilege and an opportunity to present my recently released book on democracy and governance.

I reached the venue at exactly 7:30 p.m. Within minutes, Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia, over eighty-two years old, walked in with a gentle smile, accompanied by EMESCO Vijay Kumar and Andhra Jyothi Delhi Bureau Chief A Krishna Rao. We were introduced shortly thereafter, followed by the presentation of a coffee-table book on PV Narasimha Rao, scripted by Sanjaya Baru, former Media Advisor to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, at the instance of the Telangana Government during the centenary celebrations.

When I presented my book, Democracy and Governance through Lens and Blurred Glasses: A Journey into Distorted Visions of Modern-Day Politics, the moment felt less like a formal book presentation and more like the opening of a quiet symposium, where experience spoke to experience. A customary photograph followed, a memory to preserve. Dr Montek sat quietly, did not leaf through the book casually, and did not begin with a polite generality. His first question was instant and precise: ‘Is there any reference to PV Narasimha Rao in the book?’

I opened a marked page and read aloud. ‘There have been a significant number of civil servants who seldom hesitated to advise the Chief Minister when circumstances demanded courage. One such instance occurred during the Separate Andhra Movement, when riots were spreading relentlessly and Chief Minister PV Narasimha Rao proposed a visit to Vijayawada. The Collector and the Superintendent of Police advised against the visit, fearing escalation. Weighing political implications, PV initially decided to proceed.’

‘At that moment, Chief Secretary Valluri Kameswara Rao, an eminent ICS officer, intervened and firmly advised the Chief Minister not to go. When PV dismissed the advice saying, “You are my subordinate. Please follow my instructions,” Valluri K Rao responded with calm resolve. Soon, the Chief Minister was informed that the official car would not arrive. Valluri K Rao conveyed his message politely yet decisively: “Yes, Sir, I am your subordinate. But the driver is my subordinate. He will follow my instructions.” The visit was deferred.’

‘The following day, PV Narasimha Rao publicly praised Valluri Kameswara Rao, acknowledging that had he gone, tensions would have escalated. It was an example of the moral courage of a role-model civil servant and the humility of a Chief Minister of that era, as observed by journalist Bhandaru Srinivasa Rao. Valluri Kameswara Rao lived to the age of 104.’

As I finished reading, Dr Montek smiled, not with surprise, but with recognition. He nodded slowly and said with unmistakable warmth that he was immensely happy to see PV Narasimha Rao remembered not as a slogan or a statue, but as a thinking political leader who valued institutional integrity. Such moments, he remarked, quietly buried in memory, mattered far more than loud claims of governance.

Well, that moment set the tone for the evening. Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia does not dominate a room, yet his presence anchors it. Born in 1943, an economist shaped by institutions rather than ideologies, he has served as Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission with Cabinet rank, worked at the International Monetary Fund (IMF), an international financial institution, and a specialized agency of the United Nations, and advised governments across political divides. What distinguishes him is not merely his resume, but his temperament: a rare blend of analytical clarity and civil restraint. He listens first, speaks later, and when he does, it is without performance. The clarity is unparalleled.

The gathering of well-wishers itself was small, almost deliberately so, as an informal circle of Senior Journalists (K Srinivas, A Krishna Rao, K Ramachandra Murthy, Mallepalli Lakshmaiah), a Highly Respected Publisher (EMESCO Vijay Kumar), an Advocate of High Repute (Harkara Srinivasa Rao), a Vice-Chancellor (Professor Ghanta Chakrapani), a Physician (Dr Kalyan), a former Rajya Sabha Member (KVP Ramchandra Rao), and a social-political activist and technocrat (PV Prabhakar Rao), among others, who had come not for ceremony but for conversation.

There was no podium, no scripted praise, and no hurried speeches. Over snacks on the table, memories and reflections flowed freely as Dr Montek Singh Ahluwalia responded to a wide range of questions from the small group on subjects drawn from decades of direct experience. As the discussion unfolded, PV Narasimha Rao returned repeatedly, not as nostalgia, but as a reference point. Dr Montek spoke of leadership that allowed institutions to function, of Chief Ministers and Prime Ministers secure enough to accept dissenting advice. The VK Rao episode, he observed, reflected something increasingly rare today: mutual respect between political authority and administrative conscience.

From there, the conversation widened effortlessly, to coalition dharma, the erosion of regulatory autonomy, and the difference between authority and wisdom. What unfolded felt less like a meeting and more like entry into a living archive of India’s recent intellectual and political history. Dr Montek spoke with the assurance of someone who had watched governments rise and fall, policies celebrated and diluted, and ideals strained by power.

He recalled Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s civilizational grace that transcended party lines, remembered Manishankar Aiyar and Sharad Yadav, and spoke of a time when rural employment was treated not as a slogan but as a moral responsibility. When Mahatma Gandhi was mentioned, it was with discomfort, at how even names and symbols could be erased, as though history itself were negotiable.

Personal recollections followed, such as, Rajiv Gandhi sending Vajpayee abroad for medical treatment, a gesture almost unthinkable today. Dr Montek mentioned his suggestion to Vajpayee to rename the Planning Commission, which Vajpayee politely declined, perhaps sensing that institutions carry meaning beyond efficiency. P Chidambaram, he felt, was a capable finance minister, though every minister is ultimately constrained by circumstance.

At one point, he paused and asked, almost reflectively: what is contemporary history? His answer was unsettling, that, little has been written after Indira Gandhi. Rajiv Gandhi attempted to understand the emerging middle class as a new social force. Today’s India, Dr Montek said plainly, is a middle-class India, yet one that produces surprisingly few cultural or sporting icons relative to its size.

The conversation drifted naturally from economics to culture. He spoke critically of disruptions to celebrations of a particular community, and warned that communal assertiveness, apart from being morally wrong, is economically unwise. Such tendencies may damage growth, though he remained hopeful they would not endure. On Ayodhya, he widened the lens, speaking of the Ramayana not as a single text but as a civilisation of many telling, with a hundred Ramayanas, each reflecting the society that told it. This pluralism, he implied, was India’s real inheritance.

He was candid about liberalization. What we see today, he said, is not what PV Narasimha Rao had envisioned. Corporates hesitate to speak truth to power. He contrasted figures like Narayana Murthy and Azim Premji, suggesting that corporate leadership reflects a spectrum of conscience. If PV were alive today, he wondered quietly, how would he judge the present? Institutions, for Dr Montek, remain central. India needs strong regulators in every field, who are to be independent and uncaptured. He cited TN Seshan’s uncompromising tenure at the Election Commission as an example of institutional courage.

Coalition governments, despite instability, at least introduced checks and balances, a form of political dharma, said Dr Montek. He was equally pragmatic. Inflation this year is low. A weak currency is not inherently harmful. Freebies make little sense when extended beyond poverty alleviation. While Indians thrive abroad, Satya Nadella being an obvious example, returning to India, he felt, remains a rational and meaningful choice.

Subramanian Swamy, he said, is intellectually sharp, and it was absurd that Delhi University never gave him a professorship. Shashi Tharoor, by contrast, speaks with sensitivity, perhaps too much for the present climate. On the current political leadership, Dr Montek’s assessment was measured. He noted that one significant shift had been the breaking of an old elite monopoly in politics. On Rahul Gandhi, he offered little comment. Instead, he observed casually that his WhatsApp feed is flooded with anti-Congress messaging, but rarely the reverse, a remark revealing much about narrative dominance in contemporary politics.

There were lighter moments too. When in the South, he joked, eat sambar rice like a South Indian. As the evening drew to a close, it was evident that this had not merely been a social interaction. It was an encounter with a witness, that, someone positioned at the intersection of economics, politics, and moral memory, quietly reminding those present that governance is sustained as much by restraint as by action.

That opening question about PV Narasimha Rao lingered. It was not simply about a reference in a book, but about whether democracy is still understood as a delicate balance of courage, humility, and institutional respect. Through Dr Montek’s words, the VK Rao episode stood not as praise, but as illustration. In that sense, the conversation framed itself. It reaffirmed that democracy lives not in proclamations, but in quiet moments when power pauses to listen, and that these moments, if remembered, still have the capacity to guide us.

Such gatherings, modest in scale and free of spectacle, serve a purpose far larger than their physical presence suggests. They are spaces where memory is not curated for applause but recalled for meaning; where experience is not compressed into slogans but allowed to unfold in nuance. These quiet conversations restore the dignity of listening and the discipline of reflection. What emerges from them is not consensus, but clarity, about how institutions once functioned, why they mattered, and what is at stake when they weaken.

They remind us that democracy is not sustained only by elections or majorities, but by habits of restraint, by respect for dissenting advice, and by individuals who understand that authority gains legitimacy when it listens before it acts. More importantly, these interactions create an intergenerational transmission of institutional values. They allow ideas to travel without distortion, grounded in context rather than ideology. When seasoned practitioners engage candidly with journalists, academics, professionals, and citizens, the outcome is not immediate policy change, but something more enduring, a shared understanding of governance as a moral practice, not merely an administrative one.

In that sense, the true value of such small gatherings lies in their cumulative effect. Each conversation becomes a quiet counterweight to erosion, of memory, of trust, of institutional confidence. They reaffirm that democratic resilience does not always announce itself loudly; often, it survives through thoughtful dialogue, mutual respect, and the willingness to remember how power was once exercised with humility. If these conversations continue, their influence will extend far beyond the room, shaping how governance is imagined, discussed, and eventually practiced. (Thank You PV Prabhakar Rao Bhaayi Saab for inviting me to the get-together)