Updated On: 20 July, 2021 07:08 AM IST | Mumbai | C Y Gopinath
There was a time when the ability to laugh and be laughed at was a sign that we were secure in our Indian-ness. When did we lose that superpower?

We live in humourless times. A part of me misses that India where friendly ribbing and joshing were signs that somehow, against all odds, we belonged together
One morning, I was lying on a bed at a hospital in Bengaluru, awaiting a routine angiogram required for insurance purposes. Having undergone the procedure before, I knew they’d insert a catheter through a big artery in my groin and thread it up to my heart for various checks.
I sensed a young Kannadiga in hospital regulation shorts and a shirt standing diffidently at the door, a metal pail in one hand and a toolkit in the other. He looked apologetic even before he said his first words, “Sorry, saar.”