I have criticized him over the years in the most severe terms in my columns, to the extent of describing him as little better than a domestic servant of the Nehru-Gandhis.
But, all of a sudden, my instinct nudges me to take a pause. For there is yet another Manmohan Singh whom I have known for nearly 60 years now, who is altogether different: kind and affectionate, full of understanding and consideration for others. Must I not have the grace to acknowledge what, at the personal level, I owe to him? I have to be contrite and walk away from the crowd of merciless critics in this unhappy season and narrate a couple of stories from real life.
Read the full piece at the Telegraph: That Indelible Identity