As one more episode—the Amnesty fracas in Bangalore—and the nocturnal inquisition on television play out, we must (with a deep sigh) ask the question once again: what exactly does one do with sedition? Or what is, clearly, the excessive and anachronistic law that relates to it—of colonial vintage, as everyone knows, and part of the apparatus of thought control on unfree populations. Should it stay? To proceed towards a calmer climate, where a tolerable answer can be found—and that answer must be an unqualified ‘no’—one must try to understand the soil from which the question itself emerges. Why does ‘sedition’, as a conceptual category, continue to exist and even thrive in these post-colonial days? It is patently an anomaly, and perhaps a trick of the light. The spotlight these days tends to be so tightly concentrated around an arrant brand of nationalism that nothing else swims into the range of vision. Except what is, prima facie, its exact opposite: separatism. These two fairly sizzle on stage, like twins joined at the hip, dancing a deadly tango, the cynosure of all eyes and the cause for uncountable foreign policy contretemps and social media conflagrations.