3 days from now, while all eyes will be centered on Rajpath, we will distinguish ourselves from the rest of India by observing an obligatory bandh. Not that it would make any difference, but it will give the local security contingents more unwanted work to do, and also keep us hapless wretched civilians on our toes in anticipation of the compulsory blasts and salvoes of randomly-targeted gunpowder.

The more unfortunate among us will be compelled to remove the complimentary hate paint smeared in big bold verdana at vantage points on roads and walls, at the behest of unfriendly forces without either consent or choice, and wonder whether democracy was really about choice, or actually about shutting up and doing as you're told or else. At the end of the day, many will wonder how all this negativity never ceases to annoy them. I unfortunately, will be one of them.

One of the wonders of the modern world is the fact that India has been able to maintain her most voluminous and complex constitution, democratic structure, and parliamentary form for over 55 years, with its 231 pages, 395 articles, 22 chapters, 12 schedules, numerous clauses and sub clauses standing head and shoulders above the ready comprehension of the average Indian.

Democracy usually has a few prerequisites - certain cultural, social, and economic preconditions. None of these are claimed to exist in India, and yet her democracy has not only survived, but also become a political legacy, which has successfully resisted all attempts to barter or tamper it, while simultaneously leading India towards the stark reality best described in precise phrases like bribery, lawlessness, sloth, filth, caste conflict, religious hatred, and secessionism.

While the theory behind it is safe and sound, in practice, the modern Indian Parliament has been reduced to the grotesquely cheap level of the bazaar. It is well on its way towards mob rule, with over 100 members of the present Lok Sabha involved in criminal cases, and most of the rest forgetting the important distinction between a vote of confidence and a shouting match.

The chaos begins here. There simply is no deterrence. Laws are broken with impunity, often by the ones who make and enforce them, and who are most often accurately stereotyped and clichéd as two-faced, backstabbing, self- serving busybodies. The picture may be unduly harsh, but then, the camera never lies, and we even have two household names in Doordarshan and Tehelka capturing those unforgettable moments, and bringing it via satellite right into our living rooms. The show does indeed go on. Even after zero hour.

Sooner or later, most developing countries become difficult to govern, and the Republic of India has been no exception. India is still very much a functioning democracy, but it is increasingly over-regulated and equally under-administered. There are laws and regulations for everything from birth to death, from SIM cards to ration cards. Setting up an industry calls for some 60 or so permissions, and canceling a railway ticket involves one form and four ledger entries. For every rule, there are two loopholes, and for every loophole, there are three palms to be greased.

Files are created to pile up and gather dust, and foundation stones are laid for projects that never materialize. Somewhere down the line, the bureaucracy lost sight of the meaning of service, and now exists to perpetuate itself and the 1.9 crore Govt. employees, who foot a combined annual bill of over Rs. 70,000 crore. It's still the number one dream job in the land, by the way. Ask any hassled IAS aspirant. Or even his more hassled Mom or Dad.

Coming back to Manipur, the easily forgotten headache that finds mention in the 1st schedule, part C, no. 7 of the Constitution, the evidence of eroding political order is probably at its most profound here. Personal rule has replaced party rule at all levels. Various social and antisocial groups have pressed new and ever more diverse political demands that are inevitably backed by violence.

The omnipresent but feeble state has responded with indifference, sporadic concessions and repression. Such responses have fuelled further opposition, and has only highlighted the ineffectiveness of the civil machinery intended to enforce the law and maintain order. The bulk of political energy is spent fighting one bushfire after another, guided by the central concern of how to hang on to power.

The armed forces, once considered apolitical, have been dragged into the fire-fighting arena and their mistakes and excesses often mirror the prejudiced and preconceived blindness that separates this region from the rest of India. The blind continue to lead the blind. The rest remain deaf and mute participants awaiting the "Applause" sign at the end of every high-pitched diatribe on why X is right and why Y will always be wrong. And the debate continues; while the bushfires rage on.

The contemporary turmoil is however, different. It is both more and less intense than in the past, and is therefore more and less threatening. Less threatening, because the basic existence of Manipur as a viable part of the Indian Union does not appear to be threatened. Secessionist voices may make their presence heard every now and then, as they probably will, but as long as the might of the Indian army is here, a separation is not likely.

Political disorder is more threatening now than in the past, because political breakdown jeopardizes the predictability on which organized society rests. The rules that govern life, property, and the everyday behavior of common citizens require the presence of an effective state and legal machinery. The state is also deeply involved in the management of economic life, down to the grass roots.

The degree to which socio-economic life was insulated from political power struggles has been eroded, probably forever. Most people in Manipur are not unaware of their constitutional rights and all the socio-economic-political freedoms that come along with it. But to sustain their faith in democracy, they have to first see and experience it to believe that they are all true.

In 1950, we, the people of India, gave ourselves a wonderful Constitution. It had everything to suit all tastes. There was separation of powers, federalism, affirmative action, and even a scientific temper. During the emergency, the Congress even muscled in "Socialist" and "Secular", just in case some people had other ideas. Although essentially a very Congress document, it was a well-crafted document nonetheless, designed and modeled on the very best.

The political machinery was meant to be powerful; the restraints were built in - part of the machine and not dependent on the good will or political intelligence of the operators. The founders did not have much faith in anyone's good will, though they were fairly confident about their own political intelligence. Today, that confidence does not appear to have been mistaken. The machinery they designed has no doubt been used in ways they did not foresee and would not have approved, but 55 years later, it is almost entirely intact and in place.

The Constitution, however, does not make it impossible for political leaders to behave and act obtusely. That is why conflict zones like Manipur remain largely unresolved. That is why the state machine has increasingly resorted to its last line of defense - the armed forces. Ironically, what the state machine defends, it can also destroy: the greater the power to defend, the greater the power to destroy.

Manipur does not need more powers or destruction or loss of life and property to sustain the wonder of democracy. It simply needs a vote of confidence. And a good pair of running shoes to catch up with the rest of the Republic.

A Republic too far.