Abstract:
“It is very bad with your prime minister,” blurted the burly Rus sian
guard to the private secretary, “It is very bad.” By the time the secretary
rushed to the bedroom the prime minister of India, Lal Bahadur Shastri,
was dead. It was a little past midnight
Description:
Later that morning, the casket mounted on a gun carriage and ringed
with wreaths began moving toward the airport. The seventeen- kilometer
route was lined by the city’s mourning residents and fl anked by Indian,
Pakistani, and Soviet fl ags fl ying at half- mast, draped in black
