Awakening of India - 1947

New York City – A Private Suite, The Carlyle Hotel – Early February 1948

[3 Days before UNSC meeting]

The silence in the penthouse suite at The Carlyle possessed an almost tangible weight, broken only by the distant wail of sirens threading through Manhattan's steel canyons far below.

Outside, February's bitter wind carved knife-edges around the city's gothic spires, but within these walls of understated luxury, a different kind of storm was gathering momentum – a tempest of geopolitical calculation and historical reckoning that would reshape the world's power structure.

The lingering ghost of expensive tobacco smoke from some previous negotiation still haunted the damask curtains, now intertwining with the subtle fragrance of Indian sandalwood from an incense stick V.K. Krishna Menon had lit earlier.

Prime Minister Arjun Mehra occupied the head of the polished mahogany table. His stillness carried the tension of a coiled spring.

The deep charcoal bandhgala suit he wore was a calculated choice – unmistakably modern, deliberately abandoning the homespun humility of traditional Congress attire, yet undeniably Indian.

It was clothing as manifesto, a visual declaration of the new India he embodied. His hands lay composed on the table, his eyes sharp as Damascus steel when they moved.

V.K. Krishna Menon with his razor-sharp intellect as a perfectly calibrated instrument, sat at Arjun's right flank with all the documents. His role today was that of a supporting player – the leader had already taken center stage.

Across the mahogany divide, Sir Alexander Cadogan appeared to be slowly dissolving into his wingback chair, as if the leather might swallow him whole. His face had become a topographical map of imperial anxiety and post-war exhaustion, pale as morning mist.

The barely perceptible tremor in his fingers as he adjusted his spectacles was quietly registered in Arjun's eyes. Cadogan was a man fluent in the ancient language of empire, versed in subtle pressures and the weight of centuries-old traditions.

Now he faced someone who seemed determined to incinerate that linguistic dictionary and author an entirely new lexicon, written in whatever medium proved necessary.

Beside Cadogan, Warren Austin projected the robust confidence of American industrial might, yet even his weathered diplomat's composure showed hairline cracks as he recalibrated his assessment in real time.

His gaze on Arjun mixed curiosity with mounting concern and what might have been slight respect. Austin was seasoned in handling allies, adversaries, and supplicants. 

And yet, Arjun Mehra defied all three categories. He was something unprecedented, something that made the diplomatic handbook obsolete.

Arjun sat in silence for few moments, before he finally spoke, "Gentlemen," he began, his gaze sweeping between Cadogan and Austin with precision, "I trust my personal presence here today, illuminates the extraordinary importance the Government of India places on the matter before us.

We have not gathered to present supplications or solicit charitable considerations. We are here to discuss, with the principal overseers of the current world order, the practical mechanisms of India's immediate assumption of its rightful position as a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council."

The boldness of this opening statement crystallized in the air. No diplomatic preamble about shared values, no deferential genuflection toward established protocols. Simply an declaration of his demands.

Sir Alexander Cadogan was first to breach the silence, though his voice carried the brittleness of ice under pressure.

"Prime Minister Mehra, His Majesty's Government remains, naturally, deeply cognizant of the... remarkable and, if I may observe, rather dramatically accelerated developments across the Indian subcontinent.

The resolution of the conflict with Pakistan, while undeniably swift, has fundamentally altered the regional equilibrium in ways that demand careful global consideration." He paused, seeming to select words from a rapidly diminishing vocabulary of imperial authority.

"However, the question of permanent membership in the Security Council represents a matter of extraordinary international gravity, governed by the United Nations Charter itself, and requiring, as you are certainly aware, unanimous consent from all existing permanent members. It is not a decision to be undertaken hastily, or under... external pressures."

Arjun's response came as a smile so subtle it might have been imagined – the expression a master chess player might wear when observing an opponent's predictable opening gambit.

"External pressures, Sir Alexander," he replied, his tone maintaining its measured cadence, "often serve as the preferred sanctuary for those seeking to preserve an increasingly obsolete status quo.

India, representing nearly a fifth of humanity, a civilization spanning millennia of continuous existence, a nation that contributed significantly in blood and treasure to the Allied triumph in the recent global conflict.

And has now, through unfortunate necessity, demonstrated its capacity to secure its sovereignty and project regional stability in a critical and volatile theater – such a nation considers its claim to transcend mere procedural complications.

It constitutes, if you will, an inescapable geopolitical inevitability."

He shifted forward incrementally, his gaze drilling into Cadogan's consciousness.

"An inevitability that encompasses, as you are equally aware, certain substantial and long-deferred financial obligations between our nations. A sum approaching 1.5 billion pounds sterling, if I recall.

Such material realities, I have discovered, possess remarkable efficacy in dissolving perceived complications, particularly when a convergence of mutual interests can be properly illuminated."

The direct, unvarnished connection between the UNSC seat and the sterling balances, delivered not as intimidation but as a statement of interconnected facts by the Prime Minister himself, detonated like a diplomatic earthquake within the suite's confines.

Cadogan's already ashen complexion seemed to drain of its remaining color. The carefully constructed fortress of British diplomatic reserve was developing dangerous structural cracks.

Warren Austin, who had been absorbing this exchange with forensic intensity, now entered the fray, his voice carrying the full weight of American pragmatism.

"Prime Minister, the United States acknowledges India as a crucial nation in Asia, an emerging democracy whose trajectory carries immense significance for us and the global community. We earnestly desire a strong and stable India. However…,"

His tone deepened ominously, "…the recent conflict, the overwhelming scale and decisiveness of your military response, and the internal political transformations within your government, have, frankly, generated substantial questions and anxieties in Washington.

It includes the tragic assassinations of your predecessor and other esteemed leaders, along with reports of the prior detention of some of those same figures.

The permanent members of the Security Council are expected, are they not, to exemplify democratic stability and serve as unwavering advocates for peaceful resolution of international disputes?"

Arjun redirected his penetrating gaze toward the American, a look that conveyed neither hostility nor deference, but the assessment of equal, sovereign power.

"Ambassador Austin, India stands as a paragon of democratic stability. A stability that, I must emphasize, it was recently compelled to defend against unprovoked, state-sponsored aggression and an act of terrorism so vile it targeted the very essence of my nation.

It nearly claimed the life of Mahatma Gandhi, a figure globally revered as an apostle of peace, and also led to demise of two of our most respected leaders.

My government responded with the swiftness and determination required to preserve that democracy and our territorial integrity against forces seeking to annihilate both."

His voice remained level, yet the underlying iron was unmistakable – the quiet conviction of someone who had gazed into the abyss and refused to blink.

"Are you suggesting, Ambassador, that a nation's inherent right to permanent representation on this Council somehow diminishes or dissolves when it successfully defends itself against existential threats?

When it acts to eliminate a cancer that threatened to metastasize throughout the entire region? Or when it implements necessary internal measures during wartime and deep national crisis to ensure unified purpose against a common enemy?"

He allowed his rhetorical questions to reverberate through the room's opulent atmosphere.

"Regarding 'peaceful conflict resolution,' India, under both its previous leadership and my own administration, extended every conceivable olive branch, every opportunity for dialogue, even as Pakistan mobilized its forces, infiltrated our territory, and orchestrated the barbaric violence.

Only when our hand was irrevocably forced, when our citizens' lives and our borders' sanctity faced direct and sustained assault, did we respond.

And when we did respond," his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, yet carried an intensity more powerful than any raised voice, "we did so with a completeness designed to ensure, for all eternity, that such a threat would never again emanate from that quarter.

The world, Ambassador, wants stability above all else. India, through its actions, has delivered that stability to South Asia, though at considerable and tragic cost to ourselves."

He pivoted smoothly, addressing both diplomats simultaneously.

"A stable, prosperous, and powerful India, recognized as a responsible and equal partner on the Security Council, would constitute a formidable asset to the entire democratic world.

It would serve as a vanguard against other, less benevolent, ideologies that even now seek to expand their influence across the fractured landscapes of post-war Asia."

This was an unmistakable, if unspoken, reference to Communism's spreading shadow, a specter haunting both Washington and London.

"Concerning the sterling balances, Sir Alexander," Arjun continued, his focus returning to the British representative, his tone now adopting an almost collegial intimacy, as if discussing business arrangements between reasonable partners.

"India remains acutely conscious of the considerable economic challenges confronting Great Britain in these post-war years. We are prepared to demonstrate... exceptional pragmatism.

Perhaps half of the outstanding sum – say, seven hundred and fifty million pounds – could be resolved through immediate and prioritized provision of industrial goods, capital equipment, essential machinery, and vital technical expertise from Britain's robust and industrial sector.

Your surplus production capacity in certain areas, your engineering mastery, could prove invaluable to our own urgent national reconstruction and our plans for rapid industrialization.

This would transcend mere debt settlement, Sir Alexander; it would represent direct, tangible investment in India's future, fostering economic bonds that would benefit both our nations for generations."

He allowed that proposition, reframing obligation as opportunity, to permeate the room's atmosphere. "As for the remaining balance..." Arjun continued seamlessly.

"...perhaps a small lump sum payment immediately, a gesture of goodwill, whatever His Majesty's Treasury can reasonably manage in the near term.

The remainder... the final disposition of the outstanding debt... could be negotiated under more favorable, long-term arrangements, once India assumes its proper position as a permanent member of the Security Council and our mutual understanding and strategic partnership achieve firmer... foundation."

The proposal was a masterpiece of coercive diplomacy: part relief, part incentive, entirely contingent on Britain's political support.

Cadogan appeared as if he had been offered a lifeline attached to a millstone. Britain just wanted to get rid of any debt they owed to anyone, the earlier, the better.

Arjun then refocused on Ambassador Austin, his expression radiating earnest commitment. "And regarding your entirely legitimate concerns about democratic processes, Ambassador.

I offer you my personal guarantee, as India's Prime Minister, that my government remains irrevocably committed to establishing and nurturing a fully robust, constitutionally-grounded democratic administration across all our territories, both established and newly incorporated.

We intend to have the framework for this new, strengthened democratic India fully operational by year's end.

We are consolidating and reinforcing democratic institutions, Ambassador, adapting them to India's unique civilizational heritage and its contemporary requirements. We are not dismantling them."

He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a more confidential, conspiratorial register, inviting partnership against a common, unspoken adversary.

"Furthermore, Ambassador Austin, a democratic India which is confident in its international standing and aligned in its fundamental values as that of United States, could prove to be a discreet but extraordinarily effective ally in certain... shall we say, areas of strategic concern across the broader Asian theater.

There are ideological currents and geopolitical shifts occurring elsewhere on this continent – in China, in Southeast Asia – that I believe represent profound and mutual concerns to both our nations.

Perhaps, in a more private and less formal setting, we could explore how India might subtly assist in stabilizing those situations, to our clear mutual advantage."

The suggestion carried all the subtlety of thunder wrapped in velvet – a veiled reference to Communism's spreading influence, particularly Mao's advancing forces in China, and an offer of potential.

A strategic counter-cooperation, naturally, on American support for India's immediate global ambitions.

Arjun Mehra's smile now approached the beatific, yet his eyes maintained the unwavering focus of a predatory bird.

"The Soviet Union, gentlemen," he said, his voice regaining its earlier, more formal rhythm, "comprehends strength above all other considerations. They respect geopolitical realities. They, like all major powers, will ultimately align themselves with the inevitable.

And the inevitable truth, I submit to you, is that India, by virtue of its size, its resources and its resolve, has now become a power that cannot be dismissed. Its voice will resonate in the councils of the world, one way or another."

He laid bare his cards, heavy with unspoken implications.

"The question before your esteemed governments, therefore, is relatively straightforward: Will that powerful Indian voice be heard from within the Security Council, as a responsible and contributing partner in global order?

Or will it be a voice heard from outside, as a major independent power compelled to chart its own course, secure its own interests, and perhaps, forge its own alliances, in ways that may not always harmonize with the preferences of this Council's current permanent members?"

He rose slowly, signaling that the initial presentation had reached its conclusion. V.K. Krishna Menon gathered his papers with quiet efficiency.

"Prime Minister Attlee and President Truman," Arjun concluded, his gaze encompassing both stunned diplomats, "are visionaries and pragmatists. I am confident they will recognize the strategic wisdom of embracing this new reality.

A reality where India, as a permanent member of this Security Council, can contribute meaningfully to a more balanced and effective global institution.

A reality where historical financial obligations are resolved constructively and honorably. And one where new avenues for strategic partnership can be explored, for the greater good of the democratic world and for the enduring peace of Asia."

The meeting concluded, as such extraordinary encounters often do. Not with immediate, concrete commitments, but with murmured assurances of 'most serious and urgent consideration.'

But the impact of Arjun Mehra's personal intervention was seismic.

He had not merely presented India's case, instead, he had constructed a complex, interwoven architecture of incentives, pressures, veiled promises, and even more veiled consequences.

He had personally established his nation's claim.

Demonstrating that the new India was prepared to negotiate from a position of undeniable strength.

By leveraging its military victory, its moral high ground (however strategically acquired), and its economic leverage, all to fulfill it's global ambitions.

[A/N: This one, as well as, next 1-2 chapters might be a bit boring, but they're necessary for the plot progression]