Indira Gandhi's Smriti

Went to the place where Indira Gandhi lived and was assassinated. (You'll notice, a pattern, Mahatma Gandhi died where he lived, too)

This was by far the most crowded, by a factor of 10, of the three places I went today. The people in the smriti has a distinct sense of mourning, both for Indira and her son Rajiv. I was surprised by this feeling of loss because I had thought Indira was the closest thing to a dictator that independent India has yet had. I suppose as with most deaths, people regard politicians more fondly after-the-fact.

As Nigel pointed out, she did have a distinct sense of style. Her home was surprisingly spartan, considering the power she held, but everything she did have was the best. For example, there was only one painting on the wall but it was a Van Gogh.