Delhi, built, rebuilt (at least nine times, they say), is a large complex of medieval and modern edifices, as the recent AI Summit underscored once again in 2026. At its heart stands the magic mountain, Raisina Hill with a grand red stone Rashtrapati Bhawan at the top. It is flanked by what, until recently, were the two seats of utmost power in India: the North Block housing the finance ministry and the South Block that housed the all-powerful PMO and also the Ministry of Defence. From Jawaharlal Nehru to Manmohan Singh, they all ruled from here, and so did Narendra Modi, our current prime minister, shielded from the rest of the city – and to some extent the country – by a series of red sandstone walls guarded by gun-toting commandos, barbed-wire fencing, and movable roadblocks that can be moved across the roads to halt traffic to make way for VIP cavalcades. Illustration: Pariplab ChakrabortyTill about a decade ago, the part of Delhi, known as Lutyens’ Delhi after its original architect and planner Edwin Lutyens, was an open space with a thin trickle of locals and tourists in groups and couples flowing through the wide lawns that flanked India Gate with fountains gushing at two ends even during the years of drought. A good third of that public space has now made way for new government buildings designed by Gujarati architect Bimal Patel. Most of the green area is now hard to access for the public or even the media. Since 2014 when the new government led by Prime Minister Modi, took oath of office, there has been talk about how the Lutyens’ zone needed to be redesigned . It symbolised a colonial era of dominance and subjugation filled with painful memories and loss of India’s basic identity as a Hindu nation. Jitendra Prasad, Union Minister of State for Science and Technology and Minister of State Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) described the transition of top governmental offices from Raisina hills to the new buildings in the zone on 16th February as “freedom from the shadows of colonial governance to the vibrant corridors of public service, from the imperial South Block to the emancipated Seva Teerth.” Even viewed from a distance you begin to see how the new name for the area Seva Teerth denotes the nature of the changes the NDA government has ushered in 2026. In Hindu scriptures the term Teerth literally means a crossing over from the physical to the spiritual. It is a place you must visit not as a fellow and equal citizen participant in the act of crossing over ‘to the Other Side’, but as a humble and supplicant pilgrim awaiting your turn with a Good Boatman who will help you. One also notices that gradually the groupings of smaller and bigger residential buildings in the zone have been undergoing a visual segregation from the Teerth. That area still has many loveable signs of human quirks: little vendors selling fruit and milk, a Panwallah who knows past VIPs by name, and a subsidised government Kirana store. The back lanes have bazaars with dry cleaners, neighbourhood Dhabas and fast food joints. The area around Seva Teerth used to come to life in the evenings earlier when from the old foodie Delhi, emerged hordes of ice cream vendors. And flute players sold handmade bamboo flutes, Ram Laddoo vendors with tiny mosquito nets covered their wares and Chana Jor Garam and Bhelpuri vendors offered old style spicy treats. Rajpath became informal, colourful, noisy, exotic as evening fell. That Rajpath, or the king’s path, is now renamed Kartavya Path , the path of Duty. Duty, thin-lipped and unsmiling, marks the new eco-friendly, seven storey buildings that have replaced old scattered ministry offices. These vast modern and energy efficient buildings drive home a concept of Kartavya carried out with averted eyes. They have very few windows and appear empty and lifeless even though they may not be so. There can be none of those makeshift counters or shelves for deities inside these buildings where old peons would light a fresh Diya each day with a few incense sticks. Before the AI summit all day long crucial meetings were held within the Kartavya Path meeting rooms, we learn. There probably were no frivolous breaks. Discussions must have focused on an AI-led structural development of a new India. Presentations, piles of data sheets. But however well guarded, human cunning reveals itself in little things. The victory that brought and has kept this government and its supporters in power, consists of slowly replacing the old power elite that had long subsisted on mysterious old school-tie networking , and an indulgent and personalised buying and selling of goods and services. Empowered by complex global bureaucratese, the tech savvy brigade of new Babus crafts the policy agenda papers for crucial meets peppering them with terms like foundational technology, democratising technology, indigenous foundation models and bias frameworks. The latest acronym MANAV could only have been assembled thus. Google the brigade and you will see the same old power elite in a new Avatar.Entering through TV screens, the otherwise carefully sealed area for the AI Summit, was stepping into a world dominated by the proliferating, unbridled word: jargon of the new technology, stormy, powerful, ubiquitous speeches made by heads of states. India, of course emphasised the need for MANAV as the goal: a human centric middle path full of moral monitoring, accountability , national sovereignty , accessibility and inclusivity. As a visual treat to tired eyes, folk dancers were whirling, the Nataraja statue twirling in coloured lights, Company symbols were whirling in the blue background in a vast hall while endless fierce and exciting deals were hinted at. If the superbly successful CEOs of Indian origin heading global mega tech companies smiling shyly had not migrated to the USA would they have done what they have? Maybe not. But by now who cares in the age of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam? The Union minister soberly announces India will be allowing access to 38,000 GPUs at a very affordable rate for our start-ups, academia, researchers and students. And access to AI for Indians will be vastly helped by AI GPU chips that can now directly be translated into geopolitical and macroeconomic terms in any language. A true “Bottom, thou art translated!” (Quince in A Midsummer Night’s Dream to bottom) moment if ever there was one.In India, the EU frankly seeks to explore space for the vast markets with consumers consisting of millions of smartphone users in small towns and rural areas. The erstwhile middle class like Bottom is translated into the visiting NRI bourgeoisie leading the AI revolution from the front. The owners of the companies, however, are white Europeans and Americans. Seva Teerth is at best a mediating structure , the kind that exists to explain the time of our lives to us. And the explanation is done by re-entering the Glory that was India. Organised religion. Folklore. Folk crafts. Cultural practices long obsolete are revived to drive home how with AI we can perform the last rites of our parents online. Bathe in the holy rivers at the almanac-suggested hour. And make no mistake, for the first time in our history, every single aspect of this process can be monetised when an algorithm can work out what we were watching, why and for how long.Mrinal Pande is a writer and veteran journalist.Saakhi is a Sunday column from Mrinal Pande, in which she writes of what she sees and also participates in. That has been her burden to bear ever since she embarked on a life as a journalist, writer, editor, author and as chairperson of Prasar Bharti. Her journey of being a witness-participant continues.