Too late in life, Tushar realised that like some folks, some Gandhis too are more equal than others. While the Congress in Mum-bai fell over each other trying to win a smile from the usually stiff upper-lipped Sonia Gandhi, they had only sympathy to offer to Tushar. The sun had set on one Gandhi family, but continued to lend its brilliance to another. "I don't resent it," says Tushar. He had in true Gandhian tradition, finished sweeping the kitchen floor of his modest flat in Santa Cruz in suburban Mumbai. "They have achieved their status because they have worked for it, since their importance has evolved out of a democratic process. Why should we grudge them anything? Besides, the Nehrus have never said that their one vote is equal to 10 votes." In spite of the dramatic swing in fortunes, politically—"I am interested in politics, more as a player than commentator, but I can't identify with any party. My professional life is not as good as it should be. But my wife Sonal's bank job keeps the home fires burning,"—Tushar is not embittered. But he is an angry young man—one who finds swallowing misconceptions about the Mahatma bitter.