Mystery of the expunged words

Parliament has many rituals: thumping desks, shouting heads, adjournments in between occasional legislating. But its most curious tradition has to be expunging remarks. When BJP MP Jagdambika Pal found his words - referring to 'Chotelal' and directed at opposition MPs - struck from the record for the second time this monsoon session, we, again, felt the itch to know what was expunged - despite us knowing fully well that the very function of expunction is to ensure that 'no one knows'. Expunging is meant to erase. The official record is scrubbed clean, as if the offending syllables never existed. It's the grandparent of the modern observation, 'If it's not on social media, it didn't happen.' Yet, we do know that everyone present in Parliament - not just MPs but also marshals, and members of verbatim staff sitting in the well to record oral proceedings - indeed heard the now-non-existent words. Unhearing is a far tougher job than expunging.

Pal had said something objectionable. But what was it? Was it rude, inconvenient, or too witty by far? The record will never tell - although it will show that something was said. Which isn't the same thing as not having any record of the act of expunction itself. Now, imagine in non-parliamentary life if we could expunge every mistake we ever made? Or, better still, not even have signs that mistakes were made?