In January 1976, at the peak of Mrs Gandhi’s Emergency power, I was a journalism student. As part of my curriculum, I was interning for six weeks at The Times of India newsroom in New Delhi. I’d come dutifully, walking from my favourite aunt’s place in Old Delhi’s Bazar Sitaram, and sit all day waiting for work. The chief reporter, the late B K Joshi, would give me none. He won’t even look at me. Once I gathered the courage to ask him why. He said, “You’ve graduated in science with very good marks. I don’t want you wasted in journalism. Go back, enrol in the chemical engineering department at your Panjab University. Then I will help you get a licence to set up a factory to make paints or tyres.” He said he just couldn't see a “bright young fellow” ruined by journalism. This was peak Emergency. No freedom, no news, no jobs and full censorship.