There is a frisson here, an air of uncharted course. This is Republic Day for India. Like always. Unlike any other.

Here there are farmers gathered, scruffy, grey-stubbled, in T-Shirts, in jeans, men, women, sons, daughters, wives, sisters, brothers, singles.

This is putting the public in republic.

As of now, the tractors are being revved. It is not yet past noon. They, the farmers protesting here, have been told that they can venture out of this encampment only past noon.

The farmers gathered here are mostly from Western Uttar Pradesh and Uttarakhand and the Terai, the undulating land that has gentle rolls before climbing up hills.

"You have been here and you know what is happening. Till the government cancels these laws we will be here. Already, we are planning for the February 1 march to Parliament", Ram Charan Tripathi, who I have met earlier, tells The Telegraph Online.

The official Republic Day parade that is an annual feature began at 9am. It is according to the set timeline to conclude at 11.47 am. The parade is curtailed because of Covid. There is also no foreign chief guest this time, pandemic reason.

In 20-plus years of covering the military for The Telegraph, I have lost count of the number of parades I have attended.

Yet, the frisson this time sets it apart. The loudspeakers are blaring Punjabi songs. The hit is Kanwar Grewal the lithe singer with a depth of voice that belies his frail frame.

There have been more than 10 rounds of talks between the leaders of the farmers' unions and the government. The government delegation has been headed by Narendra Tomar, the agriculture minister. The farmers' delegations have totalled 40 at last call, too numerous to name. Balbir Singh Rajewal, a sardar, a farmer, an economist, stands with Rakesh Tikait, the astute Jat leader from Western Uttar Pradesh.

Rakesh Tikait says the farmers who are here voted for the BJP but are now so aghast with Narendra Modi that they resort to lampooning and ridicule with placards and pictures.

"We are here because the government is not listening to us. My son is in Ladakh, facing the Chinese," a Sardar tells me. I am not identifying him, save from reporting that he is here for 58 of the 62 days since the farmers stormed to the gates of Delhi.

In Delhi's outskirts, but within the National Capital Region (NCR), people are braced for the traffic barriers put up by the polices of three states (Delhi, Haryana and Uttar Pradesh).

On a morning that has afforded 2km of visibility, the Rafale fighter aircraft is booming through in the traditional flypast.