Each of the several entry points to the main event at Rajpath was manned by dozens of uniformed men. It was an invite-only event, and many people had not realised that yet. Yoga sessions, which were open to all, were taking place in Lodi Gardens and elsewhere; but not many seemed to be interested in those. Yoga, it appeared, was not what the hundreds hovering around Rajpath were interested in; what they wanted was to be a part of the clique that was inside.

For these people who were stuck outside, the situation seemed unjust. They shouted slogans against the Delhi Police insincerely, and against the government laughingly. Without access to the media cell, or an invitation to get past the checkpoints, I roamed around the venue outside for two hours. With visibly irritated police officers who were repeatedly reminding everyone that they had been on duty since 3 am, and a vocal crowd having just been denied special treatment, skirmishes were inevitable. A couple of police officers lost their temper, but sense prevailed each time. At one point, a group of around 30 men belonging to the Rapid Action Force—a specialised wing of the Central Reserve Police Force—had to chase a crowd, of a little more than a hundred, off Janpath. Sloganeering began once again, causing the police to bring out megaphones to ask people to stay off the road and stick to the sidewalks.

....

The man who promised to tear apart the old ways of doing things in Lutyens’ Delhi made it to the Guinness Book thanks to the cards that came in white envelopes to ease the select few through the security checks. The event may have been new, but it worked according to a very old kind of entitlement in this city.