Contrary to Western media speculation that the royal visit to India would be met with “the starry-eyed giddiness of a nation of fans”, what the royals did encounter was India’s sole remaining champion of Rule Brittania — he of the creepy cut-outs fame, nonogenarian Boman Kohinoor, who insists on selling his now-overhyped tourist trap of a berry pulao at Pound Sterling prices at Café Britannia & Co.. He held up a sign with a plea that read, “#WillKatMeetMe”, and they did.

Well, at least there’s “some corner of a foreign field./ That is forever England”. Ram Guha will be so proud.

For the rest of us who play cricket, catch a nap, or take a short cut through the Oval Maidan on blazing April afternoons, little on the maidan stopped even while the Duchess of Cambridge took to slamming Sachin Tendulkar across the field. That she scored runs in wedges and an Anita Dongre cotton dress brought a smile to the running-for-the-train crowd. Yet, loud by their absence at both Banganga and at the hotel Taj Mahal Palace later that night, were the rows of curious onlookers (if not fans) that the royal entourage was expecting.

Perhaps India is in the throes of a “Make In India” hyper-nationalism?

Of course, the only way Bollywood knew how to express their royal fandom was by walking the ramp for India’s only fashion designer: Manish Malhotra. Even the normally sartorially-astute Sonam Kapoor was in an Elie Saab outfit that was not-sari, not-choli, not-gown and befitting the Queen Mother. But even this was outdone by the chintzy blue of Kate’s Jenny Packham that most SoBo teens wouldn’t be caught selfied in. Geez, some subtlety Kate. The overall effect was of Mumbai’s best dressed collectively dressing down so as to accommodate the poor tastes of the other. India has clearly forgotten how to pander.

Let’s not even get into the fact that our former colonisers haven’t even learned to pronounce “akela” (let alone “bandar log”) in an era when publishers no longer italicise Indianisms in text and English dictionaries need to include Indianisations so that everyone can read the Man Booker shortlist. Yet, they continue to struggle to regurgitate the legend of the primitive Indian, as though in the myth of us needing civilisation lies the seed of the next Empire, a la The Jungle Book, which Rudyard Kipling wrote back in 1894. Ha! As if we have forests that dense left! Between trade and the missionaries, the two arms of colonisation they came in with, conversion is a bad word today — be it of money, through offshore accounts, or religion.

Meanwhile a PIL in the Supreme Court of India, by the All India Human Rights and Social Justice front, is asking for the Koh-i-Noor to be returned. While India still grapples with antiquities acts that do not make provisions for our heritage taken out of the country prior to Independence, it is a question Britain will have to respond to sooner than later, given the fight to return the Elgin Marbles to Greece and the 400 year tradition of looting the socio-economic strengths of erstwhile colonies. The wax statues at Madame Tussauds, however, they’re welcome to keep.

In recent times, sections of India have begun to reject a Left-centric view of the world: the halo of Gandhi himself, the one-sided benefits of trade, the impact of outdated British laws that we were left saddled with, the not-inconsiderable damage done by Partition and the communal divides we inherited from them. We are even less gratuitous than the just-pre-liberalised Indians who stood by the side of the streets, enamoured by the beauty of Princess Diana. We wouldn’t buy her dresses now (puff sleeves!) and only Katrina Kaif travels to London for haircuts. From Indira Gandhi to our current five women chief ministers and one external affairs minister, we’ve had women leaders who are in various stages of marriage, divorce, widowhood and singledom for us to elicit sympathy for the messily-married. Back in the Ole Blighty, however, Diana remains the last counter-establishment woman in politics that Britain empathised with, and the establishment has devoted itself to ensuring Kate is a heavily-protected royal wife. Pfft. India protects no one, least of all our women.

It is also that the royals are ‘erstwhile’ highnesses to everyone but themselves. Royal lands in India have been nationalised, the wealth returned to the nation across the country, taxes are paid, and efforts made by such families to participate in the larger processes of our democracy. From the Scindias to Gayatri Devi to the Wodeyars in Mysore, former royals who have continued in positions of power have harnessed their local loyalties, but have had to contest elections and be accountable to the people.

In an era when even Bollywood scions are expected to earn their flops – a Bachchan’s son may not a Bachchan be – the sons of foreign kings are just unemployed brats now. At least the Ambani kids hold down their jobs, if not their cars, and the Kapoors have films at which they can fail. The Congress with its Gandhi fixation is the closest India comes to inheriting titles, and even he has to resort to college kids to find his applause because RTs don’t seem to be translating into votes. Varun Gandhi, who has slunk out of sight, sometimes seems to be the wiser Gandhi, and that says it all.

Is India today to be impressed with designer-clad socialites with no real job queuing up to tour Dharavi (the sustainer of NGOs) and Bollywood and the Taj Mahal, which Prince William (cho chweet!) believes “keeps his mother’s memory alive” (psst… it was built for Mumtaz Mahal) and which, if Right wing hardliners have their way, will be subject to archaeological investigation to check if it was built on a temple?

Maybe, Bhutan will work better for Will and Kate. The royals of the two constitutional democracies can sip tea over how much happier they were without pesky TV debates and parliaments.