Events at Westmins-ter Hall are always done with an exquisite grandeur, and that was how it was when Aung San Suu Kyi arrived in London, for the first time since she left the United Kingdom in 1988. The orchestra arranged just below the enormous stained glass windows at one end played on while the crowds of ministers and MPs and all of us, including British Prime Minister David Cameron, gathered below, at various levels. The setting was serious yet celebratory.
The only awkward moment in the gathering was when Cherie Blair got a seat in the front row just next to Gordon Brown, the former Prime Minister of Britain, whom she had once (allegedly) accused of being a liar. If body language said anything, here it spoke volumes as she deliberately turned and faced the other way. The Browns, Sarah and Gordon, sat stoically through it all. Except at the end.
Despite the fact we had all been informed that cameras were not allowed inside the hall, Ms Sarah Brown suddenly leapt to her feet when Ms Suu Kyi came around to shake everyone’s hand and started taking photographs on her phone, possibly for her Twitter account. We all know how addictive social media can be. Looking at her, all of us took out our personal mobile phones and began clicking pictures.
And my memorable moment came when Ms Suu Kyi walked down the aisle towards us, and I shook her hand. She gave me a big grin when I told her that I, too, was from Lady Shri Ram College. A moment of bonding. If only everyone from LSR had her courage and equanimity.
The speech Ms Suu Kyi gave was unforgettable, a masterclass in forgiveness. It was almost like the 24 intervening years of incarceration had disappeared and the soft-spoken Ms Suu Kyi had always been with us. She did not mention her own suffering but instead spoke of having visited 10 Downing Street to meet Mr Cameron, earlier in the day. She had been reminded of when her own father had last visited there. Apparently, Jawaharlal Nehru had given him his own heavy overcoat to protect him from the British cold. And indeed, her father, Aung San, had worn that coat to Downing Street.
Her speech was highly personal but immensely moving as each time she reminded us how precious democracy is and how we must hold fast to it.
But listening to her I wondered whether we Indians have let her down in the recent past? Had we been more proactive, Ms Suu Kyi should have made her first official visit, post-incarceration, to India where she had attended her school and college and where her family have such close associations. It may be because of our connections with the dubious military regime of Burma that we missed a historic chance. And thus Ms Suu Kyi chose to go to Europe and collect the Nobel Prize she won long ago. She also visited Oxford, which must have brought back poignant memories of when she had lived there with her husband and two children. The amazing thing is that despite having sacrificed everything, her husband, her children and her whole life, she continues to believe in the ideal of democracy for Burma. Her faith is so unshakeable that she chose to remain powerless, trapped by a cruel regime. But today she has become a worldwide icon of grace under pressure, of peaceful resistance. And yet she does not appear to have an ounce of bitterness in her. She wears those beautiful flowers in her hair like a symbol of peace and inner tranquility, and her gentle smile and very understated sense of humour says it all.
The British MPs had a good laugh when Ms Suu Kyi said that she one day hoped there would be Prime Minister’s Questions (which take place every Wednesday, rather acrimoniously, in Westminster) even in the Burmese Parliament. And she got a long-standing ovation both when she entered and when she left. For most of us after Nelson Mandela, Ms Suu Kyi is probably one of the most heroic figures of recent times.

But there are plenty of people in this world who despite having got “everything” and having become the perfect “material girls” would still want more to be happy. Yes, you guessed it, this is about our anti-hero, Madonna, who wanted to play up her bad girl image when recently in the middle of her stage performance in Istanbul, she pulled out a breast, almost as though to demonstrate that she is still a sex symbol. The British papers, especially the tabloids, gleefully printed the picture, while pretending to be outraged over why a 50-year-old woman (and the mother of three — or is it four? — children) would want to parade in fishnet stockings and thongs, yanking off her underwear on stage. One answer could be that this is all marketing technique and that in a democratic country, fortunately, you can still do anything you like.
But possibly the most accurate answer is that Madonna knew that a provocative photograph like that would swiftly go viral, grabbing headlines everywhere. It’s called staying abreast of things.

One person not pulling out anything is David Beckham, another ageing sex symbol (and footballer) who obviously does not have his wife Victoria Beckham’s penchant for reinvention. His relocation away from the United Kingdom has not helped his sporting career though he has gained fame as an underwear model. And so this week, it seems, he was heartbroken at not being included in the United Kingdom football team for the Olympics. Had this happened to Sachin Tendulkar and the national cricket team in India the Prime Minister would have been petitioned, and Tendulkar would have been reinstated as well as given two or three more Rajya Sabha seats. But thus far Mr Cameron shows no signs of intervening.
The good news is that Team GB is thinking hard and furiously of what Olympian role to assign Becks. Sadly, they did not even make him the Olympics mascot, even though he was part of the group that helped win the London bid in Singapore in 2005.