I’ve never worn that,” Shashi Tharoor says hastily, on seeing me transfixed by a portrait in the corner of his office. In the painting, Tharoor sits at a desk, writing dreamily with a quill pen, wearing a velvety eighteenth-century outfit complete with lace as floppily perfect as his hair. Most of us would be terrified at the thought of anyone seeing a painting of us dressed up like Little Lord Fauntleroy, but Tharoor is apparently made of sterner stuff. I leave thinking that his choice to instead display that portrait prominently is revealing: of his openness, his apparently indestructible self-image, and even of the otherness that he is unable to shake off in political life.

><table width='100%' border=0 cellspacing=0><tr><td style='FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-SIZE: 18px; FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: #0253B7;'>The outsider</td></tr><tr><tr><td style='FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-SIZE: 11px; '>Once known for shooting his mouth off, Shashi Tharoor now carefully weighs his every word. His latest book is another example of how he

The outsider

Once known for shooting his mouth off, Shashi Tharoor now carefully weighs his every word. His latest book is another example of how hes learning to be a politician

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