The morning sun cast long shadows across the red sandstone of Rashtrapati Bhavan as Arjun Mehra stood at the window of what would soon become the Prime Minister's office. August 15th, 1947 – a date that would echo through history, though not quite in the way the history books of his time had recorded it.
His reflection stared back from the glass – a face that belonged to this era yet housed a mind that had witnessed India's journey through the next seventy-seven years. The irony wasn't lost on him. Yesterday, he had been Dr. Arjun Mehra, a historian specializing in post-independence India, delivering a lecture on the mistakes that had cost the nation dearly in its formative years. Today, he was somehow thrust into the very position that can prevent those mistakes.
However, that wasn't the end of it. For some reason, his historian self now had the knowledge about every single damn thing from his time. Not just limited to history, but including Science, Mathematics, Computers, and other vast advanced sectors in which he hadn't even ventured.
'So this is what they call a gift by God', Arjun thought while seemingly lost in the knowledge that had flooded his mind.
Unbeknownst to him, that it wasn't his only 'gift'.
The door creaked open behind him. "Prime Minister Sahib," came the familiar voice of Krishna Menon, bringing Arjun back to the reality. "The Cabinet is assembled. We must discuss the integration of the princely states."
Arjun turned, his modern sensibilities clashing with the formal address. In his time, he had studied Menon extensively – a brilliant mind, but one whose idealistic communism had often clouded pragmatic judgment. Here was an opportunity to guide rather than oppose.
"Before we proceed with the Cabinet," Arjun said, his voice carrying an authority that surprised even him, "I need to understand the current intelligence reports on Kashmir, Hyderabad, and Junagadh. Every detail."
Menon's eyebrows rose slightly. The typical political rhetoric about unity and celebration was conspicuously absent. "Sir, shouldn't we first address the celebration plans? The nation expects…"
"The nation expects results, not ceremonies," Arjun interrupted, moving to the mahogany desk that had once belonged to the Viceroy. "Krishna ji, what I'm about to tell you might sound unconventional, but I need you to trust me. We have perhaps less than 3 months before Pakistan attempts to seize Kashmir through tribal infiltration. Hyderabad's Nizam is already in talks with Pakistan about potential union. And in Junagadh, the Nawab will announce accession to Pakistan within weeks."
The room fell silent. Menon's face revealed the internal conflict between surprise and skepticism. "Sir, how can you be so certain of these specific threats?"
Arjun had prepared for this question during the sleepless night that followed his impossible awakening in this timeline. "Sometimes, Krishna ji, a keen understanding of human nature and geopolitical patterns allows one to predict with remarkable accuracy. Tell me, what would you do if you were Pakistan's leadership, knowing that these three states could provide strategic depth and legitimacy to your claim as a homeland for all Muslims?"
The logic was undeniable, and Menon nodded slowly. "But sir, Mountbatten's plan suggests a more gradual approach to integration, "
"Mountbatten's plan serves British interests, not Indian ones," Arjun cut him off sharply. "His loyalty is to the Crown, not to us. We must act independently and decisively."
As they walked toward the Cabinet room, Arjun's mind raced through the challenges ahead. In his timeline, the wars of 1947-48, 1962, 1965, and 1971 had been costly affairs that could have been avoided or won more decisively with better preparation. The partition riots had claimed over a million lives partly due to inadequate planning. The economic policies of the first two decades had stunted growth that other Asian nations had achieved.
But most crucially, the vision of Akhand Bharat – a truly united India that included the regions that had been carved away – remained an unfulfilled dream in his timeline. Here, with foreknowledge and the power to act, perhaps that dream could become reality.
The Cabinet room buzzed with nervous energy as ministers from across the political spectrum gathered. Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel sat stern-faced, his reputation as the Iron Man already established. Maulana Azad looked contemplative, while the younger ministers appeared eager yet uncertain.
Interestingly, Nehru and Gandhi were nowhere to be seen.
"Gentlemen," Arjun began, taking his seat at the head of the table, "we stand at a juncture that will determine not just our immediate future, but the trajectory of our civilization for centuries to come. The British have given us political independence, but true freedom – economic, military, and cultural – remains to be won."
He paused, studying their faces. These were men of great capability, but also of great ego and ideological rigidity. Managing them would require the diplomatic skills he had learned from studying their historical counterparts.
"Sardar Patel Ji," he continued, "I'm placing the integration of princely states under your direct command, but with unlimited resources and a clear mandate: by December 31st, every square inch of territory that rightfully belongs to India must be under our tricolor. No exceptions, no compromises, be it the Nawabs who put Islamic Brotherhood first, be it the French, or the Portuguese, who illegally occupying out territories."
Patel's eyes gleamed with approval. This was the language he understood.
"But Prime Minister," interjected Azad, "what about our commitment to secular principles? Such aggressive action might alienate us. "
"Maulana sahib," Arjun's voice commanded both respect and firmness, "secularism means equal treatment of all citizens under Indian law. It doesn't mean allowing foreign powers to claim Indian territory in the name of religion. Our fight is not against Islam, but against the partition of our motherland."
The room stirred with murmurs. This was not the passive, idealistic approach many had expected from the Congress leadership.
"Furthermore," Arjun continued, producing a folder he had prepared, "we will be establishing a National Security Council after everything is settled down. Our intelligence capabilities must be strengthened as soon as possible. We cannot afford to be caught off-guard by our neighbours ambitions."
As the meeting progressed, Arjun outlined a series of radical departures from the expected path: immediate industrialization with a focus on heavy machinery and technology, diplomatic outreach to both the Soviet Union and the United States while maintaining true non-alignment, and most controversially, a plan to integrate the territories that had been awarded to Pakistan through a combination of diplomatic pressure, economic incentives, and if necessary, strategic military action.
"Prime Minister," Patel said as the meeting drew to a close, "your vision is ambitious beyond anything we've discussed. But it will require unity among us that transcends our personal differences."
Arjun nodded gravely. "Sardar sahib, in the world I envision, India doesn't just survive – it thrives. But that world can only be built if we have the courage to take paths others fear to tread. The question is: do we want to be remembered as the generation that merely inherited independence, or as the one that forged a great nation?"
"Also, Krishna Ji, I'll leave the press to you"
As the ministers filed out, each lost in thought about the dramatic shift in direction they had just witnessed, Arjun remained seated. Through the window, he could see the crowds gathering for the independence celebrations, their faces bright with hope and expectation.
He thought of the India he had left behind – prosperous in many ways, but still struggling with the wounds of partition, still dreaming of the unity that had been lost. The Congress party of his time had reduced the world's oldest civilization to a family fiefdom, where dynasty mattered more than merit, where vote-bank politics had replaced genuine development.
But here, in this moment, with the weight of tomorrow's knowledge on his shoulders and his eidetic memory cataloging every detail of this crucial period, he had the chance to heal those wounds before they were inflicted. More importantly, he could prevent the institutional decay that had plagued India for decades.
His long-term vision was clear and ambitious beyond anything the current leadership could imagine. Phase one: resolve the immediate crises – partition riots controlled, princely states integrated, Pakistan reduced to a landlocked rump state through strategic warfare. But that was merely the foundation.
Phase two would begin even before the inevitable war with Pakistan. India would demand its rightful place on the UN Security Council as a permanent member – not as a supplicant, but as a victor nation that had liberated vast territories. When Pakistan inevitably attacked Kashmir, India's response would be total: capture of East Bengal (Bangladesh), seizure of Balochistan, and the reduction of Pakistan to a landlocked nation dependent on Indian goodwill for access to the sea.
During the chaos of war, unfortunate accidents would befall those Congress leaders whose vision remained shackled to Gandhian pacifism and Nehruvian socialism. The future had already shown him how Nehru's idealistic blunders and Indira's authoritarian socialism had crippled India. Their removal during wartime – heroic deaths in service of the nation, of course – would be both patriotic and practical.
Phase three involved the careful cultivation of a legitimate opposition. The Hindu Mahasabha, currently fragmented and marginalized, would be reformed into a true nationalist party. He would need someone to eventually challenge him publicly while secretly coordinating policy – the theater of democracy required genuine opposition, even if that opposition was carefully managed.
The ultimate goal was far more elegant: total control disguised as democratic process. With both the ruling Congress and the opposition Hindu Mahasabha under his influence, any legislation he desired would 'miraculously' pass with just the right number of votes. Not overwhelming majorities that would seem suspicious, but carefully calculated margins that would appear as legitimate democratic outcomes.
When the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha were eventually established, the same principle would apply. Bills would pass with exactly 51% when needed, sometimes 60% for constitutional amendments, always with enough opposition votes to maintain the illusion of genuine debate. The beauty lay in the subtlety – historians would never suspect that India's greatest legislative achievements were orchestrated by a single mind controlling both sides of the aisle.
He wouldn't need to be Emperor when he could be the invisible hand guiding democracy itself.
But first, he had to survive the political machinations that would inevitably follow. Change, especially radical change, always bred resistance. And in the corridors of power, resistance often wore the mask of betrayal.
The irony was delicious – he, who had spent his previous life exposing the Congress party's failures, would now use them as a stepping stone to something far greater. The party he had hated for their foolishness and anti-India decisions would unknowingly facilitate the rise of true nationalism under his guidance. Many Congress members already harbored nationalist sentiments but lacked the courage to act on them. He would identify these hidden allies and slowly replace the idealistic fools with pragmatic patriots.
The real test was just beginning. But unlike the fumbling leaders of history, he had the advantage of knowing exactly which moves would lead to checkmate.