Awakening of India - 1947

[A/N: I think I can do 1 chapter/day after all, I just got a clear vision for a storyline, if I get stuck, I might reduce the number of chapters/week

Enjoy!]

Mountbatten's gaze moved between Arjun and Patel like a man watching his carefully constructed world collapse in slow motion. The silence stretched taut as piano wire, filled with the weight of empires shifting beneath their feet.

Patel's expression remained carved from granite, impassive, immovable, offering no sanctuary from the storm that was building in the ornate confines of what had once been the seat of absolute imperial power.

Still reeling from the chilling reality that he was witnessing, the former Viceroy's sigh emerged like steam from a dying engine, a long exhalation that seemed to carry with it the last breath of an era.

"I must confess, Prime Minister, your methods are..." He paused, searching for words that might contain his growing alarm without surrendering all diplomatic ground.

"Revolutionary would be putting it with considerable restraint. I will, of course, be obligated to report my grave concerns to His Majesty's Government regarding both the unconscionable treatment of Mr. Nehru and these highly irregular command arrangements within your armed forces. They will not, I can assure you, view these developments with anything approaching favor."

The threat hung in the air like cordite after cannon fire, traditional and utterly inadequate to the moment at hand.

"That is entirely your prerogative, Your Excellency," Arjun replied, his voice acquiring a texture like silk drawn across steel, smooth and elegant, and yet capable of cutting to the bone.

"And when you do favor London with your correspondence, I trust you will also convey India's absolute determination to defend its sovereignty against unprovoked aggression, and its remarkable success in doing so through purely indigenous capabilities, along with its unwavering commitment, to ensure regional stability through strength rather than submission."

He allowed the words to settle like sediment in still water.

"Perhaps, given time and proper reflection, London will come to appreciate a strong, stable, and genuinely independent India, one capable of managing its own affairs and securing its own frontiers, rather than perpetually seeking a client state that looks over its shoulder for approval before defending its own people."

The pause that followed carried the weight of continental drift, imperceptible moment to moment but ultimately irresistible in its transformative power.

"Furthermore, Your Excellency," Arjun continued, his tone maintaining its diplomatic courtesy before dropping the bomb he had especially prepared for the Brits.

"While you are preparing your communications to His Majesty's Government, you might find it appropriate to remind them of certain outstanding financial obligations. India, as I'm sure your records will confirm, holds rather significant sterling balances in London, debts incurred by Great Britain for services rendered and resources expended by India during the recent global unpleasantness. The sum, if memory serves, approaches 1.5 billion pounds sterling."

[A/N: This is real, while researching , I was shocked when I found out that Brits owed Indians around 1.3-1.7 billion pounds in 1947, of course, they wouldn't have paid the money as they had the final say, but this money could have been creatively utilized rather than asking for direct lump sum payment, but guess what Nehru did? Asked for lump sum entirely, in installments, that too only got about half of it by 1960s]

Mountbatten's eyes widened with the involuntary reflex of a man who has just realized he is standing in quicksand. This was not merely an unexpected tangent, it was a tactical nuclear weapon deployed with the casual precision of a chess master moving a pawn.

The financial implications crashed over him like a tsunami of fiscal reality.

Britain, already hemorrhaging resources to rebuild from wartime devastation, now faced the specter of a debt that could cripple their recovery if demanded in full.

And this soft-spoken academic turned Prime Minister had just made it clear that repayment terms would be directly linked to political cooperation.

Arjun pressed forward with the inexorable momentum of historical inevitability, his voice maintaining its scholarly precision while delivering what amounted to the most elegant piece of diplomatic extortion in modern history.

"A strong, stable, and fundamentally friendly India, one that is recognized as a major power and accorded the respect it has earned on the world stage, perhaps with a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council, a position India has more than merited through its contributions to global peace and its representation of nearly four hundred million souls, would naturally be inclined to discuss the settlement of these financial obligations in a manner that is mutually agreeable and does not impose undue strain upon the British Treasury during these challenging post-war circumstances."

The implication crystallized in the air between them like frost forming on glass, beautiful, intricate, and lethally sharp.

Support India's emergence as a global power, accept its robust defense of national interests, and the colossal war debt might be managed with understanding and flexibility.

Oppose India's new assertiveness, attempt to maintain the fiction of continued imperial influence, and that £1.5 billion could become an immediately pressing concern for a nation whose economy was already balanced on a knife's edge.

"A permanent seat on the Security Council?" Mountbatten repeated, his voice carrying notes of incredulity and dawning recognition of the trap that had just closed around Britain's geopolitical ambitions.

"Prime Minister, such matters require the unanimous consent of existing permanent members, complex negotiations spanning years..."

"Indeed they do," Arjun interjected with the smooth efficiency of a surgeon making a final incision.

"And Great Britain remains a most influential permanent member. One whose voice, advocating for the inclusion of a democratic, populous, and strategically vital nation like India, a nation to which it also happens to owe a rather substantial sum, would carry considerable moral and practical weight in such deliberations."

His smile was barely perceptible, a slight adjustment of facial muscles that somehow managed to convey both warmth and barely contained menace.

"It would represent a gesture of remarkable goodwill, Your Excellency, an acknowledgment of India's transformed status in the post-colonial world, and perhaps, if I may speak frankly, a prudent investment in the future of Anglo-Indian relations.

An India that feels its legitimate aspirations are being actively supported by its former colonial administrator is far more likely to prove a cooperative and understanding partner in all matters, including those of a financial nature."

The offer settled over the room like morning mist.

This wasn't mere demand; it was a transaction proposal, albeit one heavily weighted by India's newfound strategic initiative and Britain's uncomfortable fiscal vulnerability.

Arjun was weaving together India's military actions, political restructuring, global ambitions, and economic leverage into a single, cohesive argument that was as intellectually impressive, just as it was practically devastating.

"You are suggesting, Prime Minister," Mountbatten said with the careful deliberation of a man navigating a minefield in diplomatic dress shoes, "that Britain's support for India's... newly assertive foreign policy and its United Nations ambitions might be intimately connected to the favorable resolution of its war-related financial obligations to your government?"

"I am merely observing, Your Excellency," Arjun replied with an expression of such perfect innocence that it bordered on artistic achievement, "that all great nations understand the complex interplay of various factors in their international relationships.

A strong and secure India, recognized and respected as a global power, serves Britain's long-term strategic interests far better than a weak, dependent client state.

And a Britain that actively champions India in achieving its rightful status among the world's great powers will discover India to be a most understanding and accommodating friend when the time comes to settle accounts from our shared past."

He allowed the positive implications to register before introducing the shadow side of the equation, his voice dropping into registers that somehow managed to maintain perfect diplomatic courtesy while conveying unmistakable menace.

"Conversely, an India that finds its legitimate security actions subjected to unfair criticism, its internal governance subjected to external interference, and its global aspirations systematically obstructed, might prove... less inclined toward flexibility in financial matters."

The meeting's conclusion arrived like the final note of a funeral dirge, inevitable, resonant, and marking the end of something that could never be resurrected.

As Arjun and Patel prepared to depart, Mountbatten remained frozen in place, his expression haunted by the recognition that he was witnessing the death of every assumption that had guided his understanding of India's place in the post-war world.

The easy confidence that had carried him through decades of imperial administration wasn't merely shaken, it was being systematically vaporized by a reality he had failed to anticipate.

This was the birth of an India that had definitively abandoned colonial deference, an India prepared to leverage every advantage at its disposal, and most unsettling of all, an India capable of calling in its debts with compound interest calculated in geopolitical currency.

As they moved through corridors that had once echoed with the certainties of empire, Patel cast a sideways glance at his Prime Minister, his granite features allowing a rare glimpse of genuine admiration to surface.

"The sterling balances paired with the Security Council gambit," he murmured, his voice carrying the appreciation of one master strategist recognizing another.

"You're conducting warfare on multiple fronts simultaneously, military, diplomatic, and economic. London will be analyzing this conversation for months."

Arjun's smile carried the satisfaction of an architect watching his blueprint transform into reality.

"Every civilization has its pressure points, Sardar-ji. We are simply learning to apply ours with the precision they deserve. Lord Mountbatten came here expecting to guide a compliant former colony through its teething troubles. Instead, he encountered a creditor nation with sky-high ambitions and the leverage to make both impossible to ignore."

The weight of responsibility settled around Arjun's shoulders, heavy with the knowledge of soldiers dying in Kashmir's mountains, dissidents disappearing into administrative silence, British advisors being systematically marginalized, and now the high-stakes diplomatic revolution he had just initiated.

But it was a burden he had chosen consciously, accepting that history would judge him not by the comfort of his decisions but by their effectiveness in securing his nation's future.

The confrontation with Mountbatten transcended mere diplomatic skirmish, it was a declaration that the new India would not merely fight for survival but would demand its rightful place among the world's great powers, wielding every instrument of influence available to a civilization that had finally awakened to its own strength.

The colonial chapter was closing, and the next was being written by hands that would accept no editorial oversight from Whitehall.

The old rules lay shattered on the marble floors of Rashtrapati Bhavan, and new ones were being forged in the heat of necessity by men who understood that true independence could never be granted, only taken, and then defended with whatever weapons came to hand.