Killing him is killing the future we owe our children

The last few nights, I could barely sleep. A deep sense of fear and anxiety was sitting on my chest. My breaths were shallow, and I was feeling suffocated. As a claustrophobe, the last time I had similar bouts of anxiety attacks was when Prince was found deep inside the borewell, and a football team of young boys got trapped inside a flooded cave in Thailand, and rescue attempts were being made from outside. Every minute was like an hour.

Helplessly watching someone slide to death requires insensitivity of the worst kind.

How are they keeping calm, waiting without knowing if any attempts to rescue them at all are being made? Will they remain alive till help reaches them? These questions kept haunting me.

I knew what was causing the anxiety yesterday. Sonam Wangchuk was on indefinite fast at Jantar Mantar seeking the resignation of the central education minister. The resignation was a symbol; what he was asking for was performance from the government and accountability from the people who are at the helm of affairs.

His health was deteriorating fast, almost taking him dangerously to the point of no return, and the government was playing deaf to his demands. While the majority remained blissfully oblivious to the current state of affairs, a few by the name of cockroaches dared to fight in their quixotic bid to redefine the education landscape. Sonam chose to make a common cause and stood with them.

But what was disheartening was the jeering of a small section of people, for whose interests he was fighting. They were not only seen hurling abuses but were seen mocking and questioning his credentials as a citizen and the ones who were supporting this protest.

Yesterday morning on the TV, we saw policemen swarming the protest venue and forcefully lifting him to the hospital to prevent him from dying. Not because the government loved him, but they didn’t want to gift him martyrdom, which might fuel an uprising. The uprising to make an elected government accountable. Seeing someone die, while knowing you can prevent it.......it takes apathy of a different level.

Some solace. We are not losing him. He will live to fight another day for our people, our country.

This morning, almost half asleep, I remembered his speech and could reproduce it verbatim. In today's world, when our heads of state give speeches that make you cringe and run to close your ears, his speech was absolutely old-school—coming from a role model and an example for society. People of that calibre led us then.

That was the 27th April 2024, the Convocation of the Undergraduates of XIM University. Sonam Wangchuk was the Chief Guest, and I was there as one of the guest faculty members in the audience. Seeing your students walk away with the degrees they have earned into the life ahead is a joyous occasion.

Another attraction was Sonam Wangchuk, whom I had heard of but had never seen him in person.

His exterior of a small, smiling, shy, quiet, and polite person with a glint in his eyes barely hid the cold determination of a fighter. His reputation had preceded him. He was with his wife, Gitanjali J Angmo who is an Odia from Balasore and also an alumna of the university.

His message to the graduating students was unambiguous. That students are not given education to serve as a slave for someone's unethical interest but are designed as potential change-makers – the solvers of problems of their own, of their organisation’s, and that of society. And he gave the mantra of how to be a change-maker. A great takeaway that has remained etched in me even after almost two years. I let my imagination travel back in time.

This was the summary of his speech, which I recollect clearly.

Curiosity:

Stay curious. Try to know how things around you operate – from nature to people. Doubt the established dogma; know the rationale behind the established things. See who the ones are benefiting from it and who are resisting change and want the status quo to continue. Only when you understand how it works can you solve the problems.

Empathy:

Develop empathy. Try to put yourself in the position of the disadvantaged and weak and see things from their perspectives. In a democracy, their voices have to be heard and factored into all the development initiatives. The small and big all have their right over this planet. The brute majority should not be only for the majoritarian agenda. This place belongs to all.

Spirit of Initiative:

Be the first one to stick your neck out and risk being seen standing alone. Not many will like it, but a beginning has to be made. Voice it, transmit it. Be heard. Others will join.

Action:

Being sympathetic alone is not enough. It can only make you a couch warrior. You need to participate. You need to take the initiative to set examples by doing it yourself and by mobilising people to join your initiative. Change happens when more people join.

Experience:

Nothing teaches you more than your own experience. Others' experience might give you perspectives and insights to avoid their mistakes, but your own experience still is the best teacher. Never avoid being a part of some different experience. Don’t be afraid to fail.

Confidence:

Earn confidence. Confidence comes from you being right. Also, with your knowledge, experience, and deep understanding of how individuals and systems work, you can see how loopholes in the systems have developed and how that can be plugged.

Success:

Success should be seen differently. It should not be seen in terms of power, position, or material success. That’s a faulty social construct. You should see your success in terms of the positive impact you are creating around you. Apart from your own safety, security, and growth, you need to be a person who speaks for the weak and disadvantaged and has the least negative impact on our environment.

This was not a message only to the students; it was a message to the parents too. To us.

Are we raising change-makers, or are we raising prized oxen and draft horses — strong, obedient, and useful to someone else?

And to the people out to burn him at the stake; are you listening? Because killing him is not just killing one man to save your interest. It’s killing the future we owe our children.

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PPF: Pay for Public Failures

In line with the much-publicised NEP 2020, Odisha’s schoolchildren are getting a world-class education in one subject the syllabus forgot to list: Creative Fact-Checking. With thousands of mistakes across textbooks, we’ve accidentally launched India’s largest critical thinking experiment.

Who needs Olympiads when every math sum is a puzzle and every history date is a plot twist? Students get a shot of Nimbuda Nimbuda when the numbers get boring, just to keep the experiment joyous. Sarcasm aside, it has left the state embarrassed and the country stunned.

Double engine or Trouble engine?

Everyone’s trying to understand how low we had to sink to produce textbooks of such quality. It feels surreal. The incoherence reads like a Class 5 summer project done on a computer with no adult supervision. The government’s talent for engineering trouble has now turned inward — autophagy, you could call it. 

Is this an isolated case of gross neglect bordering on willful apathy, or just our local tradition? 

Try this: Name one government project, delivered by department staff, that’s actually high quality. Exclude VVIP pet projects with unlimited budgets or contractor-led showpieces. Or name one government service you can access without hitting a dozen barriers. You won’t need to look far.

Just look at a typical middle-class home. Dirty water? Buy a filter. No electricity? Buy an inverter/ generator. Polluted air? Buy an air purifier. No cooking gas? Buy an induction cooktop. Bad school? Go private or pay for tuition.

These were the services our taxes were supposed to cover. The State was supposed to deliver them. It doesn’t. It won’t. And we’ve accepted that as normal.

We slap a band-aid on systemic failure and call it a solution.

We’re probably the only people in the world who quietly pay for every government failure from our own pockets. Worse, we compete to buy the more premium version than the neighbour. We install booster pumps, drill illegal borewells, and set up private transformers — all to grab a bigger share of what should’ve been public.

The Indian middle class is the world’s largest municipal corporation.

We supply our own water, power, clean air, and education. The government just collects the subscription fee. Then it unabashedly calls the whole thing a “growing consumer economy” and taxes every RO, inverter, and purifier.

These aren’t signs of growth. They’re evidence of failure. And the State owes us answers.

India’s middle class has seceded from the Indian State. Not through protest or rebellion, but by quietly buying its way out of state failure.

That’s Shankkar Aiyar’s argument in Gated Republic (2020).

The State fails at basics — providing water, power, education, health, air, policing, and justice. Instead of fixing the system, the middle class builds a private replica. Install ROs because tap water is filthy. Buy inverters because the grid can’t cope. Pay school fees because government schools don’t teach. Hire security because the cops don’t show up. Each private fix is a “gate.” Stack them together and you get a Gated Republic — a country within a country.

You pay taxes to the State, then pay again to private providers just to live.

We don’t protest. We aspire. Then we just purchase.

The modern gated community is the logical endpoint. Why do we build them? Because they deliver what every city should - open spaces, parks, community halls, pools, libraries, recreation centres, safety, discipline, order.

We’ve privatised the very idea of a neighbourhood.

In the last few decades, we’ve fixed our offices. We’ve nearly fixed our homes. Even airports and railway stations are getting better through private partnerships. What still hurts is the space between them. Step outside your gate and you’re hit by chaos — badly designed roads, random speed breakers in every shape, potholes that qualify as modern art, unregulated traffic, unplanned sprawl. A road that’s “four-lane” on paper barely fits two cars. You’re seen dodging concave potholes and convex manholes, while both sides are choked by parked vehicles because some popular food joint runs out of a residential plot.

Whose job is it to keep public space in order? Public or private? We privatize public failures. We budget for the State’s gaps. Why?

Because protest is expensive and buying a solution is faster than fixing the system. Fighting the system takes leadership, time, energy, and the risk of retaliation by the state. We don’t have a culture of fighting for collective interest. We’d rather bribe the clerk to get our file moving than ask why the system is jammed. Individual optimization beats collective action every time. If my kid needs clean water today, a ₹15,000 RO beats a 15-year water supply reform. Taking the wrong side of the road feels fine if it helps you skip a traffic snarl. We’ve even legitimised bribing the pandas at Jagannath Temple for priority darshan. Culturally, we’re obedient. Questioning authority is frowned upon. The older generation still carries the memory of scarcity and oppression. For them, “at least we can buy it now” feels like progress. Avoiding confrontation became a survival tool — live today, to fight another day.

This privatisation of survival has two costs.

It depoliticizes failure. If you can buy water, you stop demanding working pipelines. The urgency to fix the system evaporates.  It creates a two-tier nation. The poor stay stuck with the broken State. The rich and middle-class exit into another planet.

As Aiyar argues, this “private welfare state” is expensive and inefficient. The middle class burns income duplicating what taxes should already cover. And because the people with voice and resources opt out, the State never feels pressured to improve. Reform dies.

India’s most successful public-private partnership is between a failing State and a paying citizen. The State fails; you pay. The State fails again; you pay again.

It’s a downward spiral.

The State grows more inefficient and less accountable. Citizens aspiring basic civic dignity build private bubbles and try to keep up with rising costs — often by earning through unfair means. Imagine the future this builds: a State that rewards inefficiency and corruption.

Ignoring public failure and building private solutions may fix the immediate problem; but the public and private cost is far larger in the long run.

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Dated Rituals and our unquestioning acceptance of them:

The past few weeks have been unbearably hectic—marked by shock, grief, and strain. A string of medical emergencies involving a young relative and the death of an elderly family member have left deep emotional, physical, and financial wounds. As if that were not enough, the relentless pressure to observe age-old rituals became the final straw.

I write this in a daze, overwhelmed by the hundred instructions handed down by a dozen self-appointed experts. Some prescriptions are laughably absurd, yet the zeal with which kin and neighbors enforce them drains your will to resist. In a country that has failed to teach basic civic sense, it's surprising to see that these rituals are followed unquestioningly, without adaptation or change.

A generous definition of a conservative is someone who wants to preserve the good things of the past, and a liberal is someone who wants to discard the bad things based on scientific evidence and social relevance and retain the good ones. But the general perception created by the extreme elements in both groups is that a conservative is the one who wants to cling to everything of the past, and a liberal is the one who wants to destroy everything of the past. Torn between these two extreme views, we see families prefer the appearance of compliance over being labelled ‘liberal,’ simply because obedience has become the safer social currency.

Even so, my reasoning mind asks: What are these rituals? Why were they established? How have they evolved? And why have they endured?

By definition, a social ritual is a repeated, structured set of actions performed by individuals or groups according to established rules, carrying symbolic meaning within a community. 

Rituals reinforce group identity, mark transitions such as birth, marriage, and death, coordinate social life, express values and beliefs, and reduce uncertainty. Their features include repetition, prescribed sequence, recognised roles, symbolic elements (objects, words, gestures), and a shared understanding. Rituals permeate daily life—greetings, religious rites, civic ceremonies like graduations and inaugurations, manners and etiquette, and rites of passage such as weddings and funerals—each bearing the imprint of a community’s culture.

Funeral rituals, specifically, serve overlapping practical, psychological, social, and symbolic functions. 

They structure grief, enabling mourners to express sorrow, find closure, and begin recovery. They honour the deceased, affirm identity and social role, and bring family and community together for mutual support. Rituals mark the transition from life to whatever afterlife or memorial status a culture recognises, enact beliefs about death and continuity, and reassure the living about moral order. Practically, they ensure hygienic handling and disposal of the body, reduce infection risk, and manage material affairs like inheritance and burial sites. They also signal roles and obligations, transmit traditions, and reinforce norms; functions that foster cooperation and social stability, which anthropologists argue helped such practices persist across cultures.

Consider the funeral rituals practised in coastal Odisha over the roughly ten days following a death. 

At close inspection, these rites aim to ensure the timely and respectful disposal of remains in the presence of the community, safeguard family and public hygiene, and provide a structured path for mourning and eventual return to normal life. Extended family, clan, and community supply the physical, emotional, and financial support needed during this crisis.

Let's guess how these rituals would have evolved.

Knowledge in any society arises from observation and experience. People cannot be expected to perform scientific tests for every action, so when wise individuals observed reliable cause-and-effect patterns, they taught others to follow them for safety and benefit. Over time, such practices became social norms and rituals, formed with the community’s well-being in mind and shaped by geography, climate, endemic diseases, economic conditions, and the average person’s knowledge and emotional capacity at the time. 

Many such practices became part of regional religious customs and gained strong social protection. So entrenched are they that people follow them without reassessing their relevance. This rigidity invites abuse: the uneducated, socially marginalised, and economically poor not only suffer the loss of a loved one but also shoulder costly rituals that can shatter their finances.

Rituals vary by culture and are heavily influenced by climate and local diseases. We see clear differences across geographies and seasons, and subtle variations within regions; evidence that people and their customs change over time.

We have witnessed rapid change in the last four or five decades: advances in infrastructure, information technology, and telecommunications that created new opportunities, enabled social and economic mobility, and reduced regional imbalances. Remote villages now have roads, electricity, and running water—amenities once found only in cities. If we can adapt so quickly to technological and structural change, why do we not apply the same flexibility to inherited rituals and make them time and place-appropriate? It's often seen that individually, we may question and adapt, but collectively, we often surrender critical thought and choose compliance in the name of safety.

Many rituals, long woven into regional and religious life, persist unquestioned despite changing contexts. Their rigidity often burdens the most vulnerable—those who are uneducated, marginalised, or poor—who must bear not only grief but also costly, archaic practices that can devastate their finances. 

The time to review these ridiculous rituals has come, and individuals and powerful voices in society should bring about these reforms not only by talking about them but by practising them and setting examples for others to follow.

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The State of our Landscape: Insights from the last thirty days

On May 22nd, we marked one month since the Pahalgam terrorist attack, and today marks thirty days since ‘Operation Sindoor’, which India launched to avenge the deaths of the twenty-six innocent victims of Pahalgam.

Many may consider the operation over, but another operation of self-congratulatory rhetoric and claims of success continues to reverberate through our landscape. While we are busy fooling each other with numerous victory parades, Pakistan, which we have tried for decades to isolate internationally as the sponsor of terrorism, is appointed vice chair of the UNSC and chair of the Taliban Sanction Committee. This narrative is likely to persist until after the Bihar elections, scheduled for October 2025. Two things never end in India – the election and cricket. The operation lasted four days and concluded as inexplicably as it had started. Yet, there is no official documentation outlining its objectives or assessing our current position within the risk-benefit framework.

But what we have witnessed in the last thirty days has been unprecedented. From the people in the highest positions in the Judiciary, Legislature, and Executive to those on the ground, from the uneducated to the intelligent and educated, their behaviour defied logic and every possible quirky human psychology.

In the years ahead, we must stay prepared to convince the next generation that these events did take place and to ensure they understand the backgrounds and behaviours of many of us. We must preserve the memory and lessons of these moments to foster awareness about the positions we took amidst the numerous complexities that such situations created.

Let’s examine the major events and their distinctiveness.

It all started on April 22nd, when a group of terrorists emerged suddenly and killed 26 tourists in broad daylight. Their method and behaviour were unlike any terrorist attack seen in recent history. They did not appear hurried; instead, they carried out their operation over a few hours with calculated precision. This incident is perhaps one of the most documented terrorist attacks in history. Numerous photographs were captured by bystanders—some deliberately, others accidentally. Remarkably, after completing their mission, they just walked away and mingled in the crowd.

Is anyone tracking them? No discussion on their whereabouts yet. We are not interested in making the authorities accountable who were responsible for our safety and security.

The next day, on the 23rd, every news outlet—be it TV, newspapers, or social media—featured headlines like ‘Jati Poochke Mara’. The similarity, timing, coincidence, recurrence, script, and tone of the divisive messages it conveyed were unmistakable and deeply uncomfortable for the more intelligent and rational voices. It looked scripted and orchestrated for a purpose.

Sane voices who pointed this out and who asked for restraint were viciously trolled both online and offline by the people pumped with hatred and suspicion. They had not realised that in our current democracy, questioning the authorities and expressing dissent had become an anti-national act. 

Kashmiris and certain communities were targeted by those seeking revenge, demanding blood for blood. Most of the electronic media, influenced by Arnab Goswami, recognised that adopting a jingoistic stance could yield massive ratings and profits. They went into overdrive, not only calling for a surgical strike to neutralise terrorist camps but also proposing the radical idea of splitting Pakistan into four or five India-friendly states, with PoK returning as a war trophy.

The slogan ‘Mumkin hai’ (It’s possible), which has since lingered for over a decade, has convinced many educated Indians that asserting dominance over the world is only a matter of time. And now, with Pahalgam as the latest pretext, some believe the time has come to execute this bold plan of regional dominance.

The cabinet gathered, and our mental war room buzzed with anticipation of the mythical Sudarshan Chakra flying toward Pakistan to avenge our loss of face. When the truth finally emerged, it was the suspension of the Indus Water Treaty—a daring move designed to control the flow of water for as long as deemed necessary.

Many believed they had caused a drought in Pakistan simply by turning a single valve on the Indus River. Supporters cheered, disappointed yet proud of what they saw as a bold action. Yet, amidst the clamour, voices of reason arose—many from Pahalgam widows—whose words were measured and free of anger or hysteria. The crowd who wanted to see blood trolled them mercilessly. Decisions of war, in their view, are no longer in the hands of the army or government experts but are instead made in newsrooms, led by anchors and, ultimately, by public opinion through a plebiscite.

There was an announcement for a mock drill, a relic of World War 2. Every news outlet carried that news as if war was about to happen low low-flying bombers are going to drop bombs on our houses. Sirens went off at a particular time, volunteers enacted a mock post-air raid scene, cameras clicked away, and reporters shoved their microphones at the face of the drill master to know more about the battles happening elsewhere.

Some people became so serious that the officials had to go to the press to tell them that it was a mock drill, not a real war.

Then the much-anticipated thing happened, at the early hours of May 7th, exercising its right to respond, India, while remaining well within its border, launched a controlled and precise attack on select hideouts and the institutions which patronize terror with no intention to escalate it to a war. The government briefing was exact and well thought out. Assisted by two women officers from the services, Col. Sofiya Qureshi and Wing Commander Vyomika Singh the Foreign Secretary, Vikram Misri briefed the press about the details of the operation. It was the perfect message to the international world about what our country is and what it stands for. Madhya Pradesh minister and senior BJP leader Vijay Shah termed Colonel Sofia Qureshi, a "sister of the same community as terrorists". The High Court ordered the filing of an FIR against him, and promptly came the SC to stay his arrest, and conducted a Special Investigation Team (SIT) to enquire into the matter. In the meantime, the head of the SIT has been changed for his inappropriate (undesirable) behaviour.

No one is asking how a senior minister of cabinet rank can be so hateful and irresponsible in his statements towards a lady army officer just because she belongs to a particular community? No one is asking what special investigation is needed when his video of his hate speech is all over the internet? No one wants to see what exposure to hate speeches has turned us into.

What happened on the 8th May will go down in history as the most shameful act of the media. Reputed news channels, with the belligerent lead news anchor and his team of war experts who, by now, have become experts in dishing out cheap and fake jingoism, announced the fall of every city, port, and airbase of Pakistan and the fleeing of their top military and political leadership, shocking the nation. They had the AI-generated images and videos as evidence. By the morning, they were all seen eating crow. They promptly deleted those contents from their social media handles.

People didn’t question those people or the channels. They were back in business as usual. No one blamed them for spreading false news and alarm. Many accepted them as a part of psychological warfare which the state legitimately uses to lift the morale of its citizens and to demoralise the enemy. Many seem to have virtually experienced the reality of seeing Pakistan decimated.

But Ali Khan Mahmudabad, a Political Science professor at Ashoka University, was arrested in Delhi for a social media post related to Operation Sindoor. He was accused of making anti-war comments. Any layman who is not drunk with hatred and understands English can't find a word or intention of the anti-war allegation. His arrest sparked two things. The underground army traced his bloodline to Jinnah and took the WhatsApp forward route to deliver it to millions of their brethren, and a debate about free speech and equality in India. Ali Khan was later granted conditional bail, a gag order, not before being pulled up by the SC for being insensitive to the national cause with a monologue which smacks of indoctrinated hatred, which is a shame to their position and fairness.

His comments should be taught to future students of law to teach them how a wrong judge at the highest court can be a threat to the Constitution. We are least bothered about how individual rights cannot even be expected to be protected at the highest courts, especially if you are from the minority community.

Operation Sindoor, inexplicably stopped on the 4th day. Trump went to the press, declaring that he was behind preventing a nuclear war. By now, he has repeated it ten times with no firm rebuttal from our side. This war saw more lies flying about than missiles being fired. It seemed each was trying to outbid the other in telling lies. Pakistan declared a win, promoted its military head to the rank of Field Marshall. China’s military hardware won, and its economy found a new vertical for growth. Everyone won in this war.

C. Christine Fair, an authority on South Asia, remarked that India was caught off guard by Pakistan's swift military response—an outcome they had not anticipated. The myth of Indian superiority in military and airpower was shattered; losses on both sides were roughly equivalent. Fuelled by delusional nationalism and a jingoistic media urging military retaliation, the Indian leadership has found itself cornered, unable to pursue a full-scale war against a similarly powerful neighbour. With the United States unlikely to support such an escalation, and China watching closely and ready to call their bluff, India’s manoeuvring space is severely limited. The only viable option remaining for the political leadership is to project an image of face-saving restraint.

Is anyone asking what the mission goal of operation Sindoor and, what we gained, and what we lost? Where do we stand now?

‘Operation Sindoor’, from being the name of an operation, became a logo and a trademark to be cashed in - economically and politically.  The political workers were asked to do a Tiranga Yatra – a victory parade, on the major streets, to convince people that we have won. Now, the same workers are carrying packets of Sindoor to each household to deliver the message of our win. The war (sic) is over, but the victory parade is showing no sign of ending. MPs from all political parties were sent to different countries to convince people of India's stands. Many of them are seen at various dinner tables singing songs and making merry. Who doesn’t love a free foreign junket?

Who are we deceiving in this charade? There has been no better attempt to appropriate everything for a political gain. Religion, language, history, food habits, names, institutions, and constitutional positions are now the tools.

Whether you call it a coincidence or a divine comedy, the latest instalment of the Mission Impossible series—The Final Reckoning centres on lies. The world teeters on the brink of total annihilation as an artificial intelligence called ‘Entity’ has escaped human control and gone rogue. It is infiltrating every secure system at an alarming pace, replacing truth with convincing lies to incite major nuclear powers to wage war. A line from the film aptly captures our reality: "The world is ending, truth is dying, and war is beginning."

At this critical juncture, amidst major conflicts across the globe, the emergence of a new political and economic order, the conduct of those we once looked up to for guidance and security has been alarmingly reckless and unpredictable. Rapacity and strategic randomness are the new order. Equally disheartening is the herd mentality of their followers, whose increasing number of mindless lambs is cause for concern. Are we so blind that we fail to recognise the unseen ‘Entity’ at work, or are we merely playing the camel, ignoring the storm brewing right at our doorstep?

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Opinion Deluge and how it's shaping us

Many of us remember the national English dailies of the past decades and their celebrated editors. Our fathers insisted that we read them daily, seeing it as a prescription for both knowledge of current affairs and intellectual development. These editors wrote opinion pieces that shaped national discourse on issues of great importance. They were highly educated, groomed by the experts of their time, and had extensive real-world experience. Known for their integrity and honesty, they commanded the respect of both their readers and the broader public.

These editors were the chieftains who controlled the flow of information through their news outlets. They represented specific political and economic ideologies and built large followings around them. Their credibility was undeniable because they were not directly involved in politics or motivated by commercial interests. The reputation of a newspaper was closely tied to the credibility of its editors.

They had advantages that other did not have. They were well-connected to global sources of information on political and economic trends. They regularly socialized with influential people and had access to real-time news and developments through exclusive channels—information that the public often received only a day later through them.

In this sense, they were the major influencers of public opinion.

Because of the trust they had built, their opinions were highly influential in shaping how the public formed its own views. They were seen as the conscience keepers of the nation. The governments of their time could not ignore their opinions and often sought their support during critical moments. As the gatekeepers of knowledge for the public, these editors understood the weight of their responsibility and the importance of maintaining their reputation.

However, this equation began to change in the 1990s with the rise of private news channels that broadcasted 24/7. Newspapers, once the dominant source of news, began to transform into trade papers, often packed with advertisements rather than hard-hitting journalism. Electronic media, and social media in particular, have contributed to this shift. The advent of influencers with millions of followers has replaced the editorial authority once held by traditional editors. In the process, much of what made journalism credible has been eroded.

Social media, the most disruptive force in modern information-sharing, has altered the media landscape. It has connected anyone with a phone and an internet connection to a global audience, bypassing traditional news filters. Now, anyone can voice their opinion with a post or a comment, bypassing the old system of submitting a letter to the editor and waiting for publication.

While social media has had positive effects—such as ensuring global connectivity, facilitating information sharing, and providing a platform for self-expression—it has also had negative consequences. The addictive nature of social media, combined with its ability to distract and reduce productivity, has reached epidemic proportions. This global issue, which affects people across all social, economic, and age groups, doesn't yet have an immediate solution.

One recent tragedy that underscores these dangers was the case of a young girl who took her life because she couldn't reach her self-imposed target of one million followers. Social media monetization programs have prompted individuals, particularly women, to create and share content that caters to the baser instincts of the public. This has led to the creation of shallow, often vulgar content designed solely to gain followers and, by extension, money. The degradation of standards is a growing concern, one that is rarely discussed.

When society defines success solely in terms of money, it inevitably loses the moral courage to question the means by which that success is achieved.

But these are the choices we make as individuals. What is more troubling, however, is our vulnerability to manipulation. Social media platforms have the power to influence our thoughts and decisions, often numbing our common sense and blocking our imaginations by creating false perceptions of reality. The ability to spread misleading or false information, paired with tools that can make such information go viral, is a significant threat. The lack of editorial oversight on these platforms allows misinformation to spread unchecked. The recent advancements in AI and digital rendering have only compounded the issue, enabling even more sophisticated forms of disinformation.

The recent war serves as an example of how this issue plays out in real time. Some reputable news outlets created war-room scenarios in their studios, using AI-generated images and videos to depict heroics on the battlefield. These dramatizations were so convincing that many influential individuals took them as truth, sharing them widely. The outlets later deleted these posts, but by then, the damage had been done. People still believe these fabricated stories to be true.

The motives behind this are multifaceted. News outlets compete for higher TRPs, governments seek a psychological advantage over their enemies, and politicians use these narratives to bolster their own image. The result has been the creation of carefully crafted opinions that reflect tactical agendas. Even when evidence is presented to challenge these narratives, those who question them are often met with hostility and abuse.

This is not a new phenomenon. Strategic efforts to shape mass opinion have been underway for some time, using tactics like fake IDs, troll armies, and content manipulation to influence public perceptions. Opposing views are often silenced by relentless online harassment. The rise of "neutral" users who join in the trolling frenzy further amplifies the chaos, with many convinced they are performing a patriotic duty.

This, in many ways, is the worst thing that could happen to a civil society. Those who perpetrate these disinformation campaigns, especially during times of national crisis, do so without any shame or remorse. Yet, in an age of information overload, who holds them accountable?

Open access to information and the democratization of voices on social media has resulted in what some are calling an "opinion deluge." Exposure to an overwhelming amount of content—both verified and false—has significant effects on mental health, leading to stress, anxiety, and even depression. People often express their agreement by liking or sharing content, while disagreement can result in negative comments or even personal attacks.

The situation in Pahalgam illustrates how quickly anger and grief can be misdirected. Following the tragic event, many people directed their outrage toward our neighbouring country and an entire community, fuelled by inflammatory content shared on social media. Those who called for restraint, such as Himanshi Narwal, were met with vitriol and harassment. Similarly, Vikram Misri, who announced the understanding of ceasefire between two countries, faced severe trolling, including threats to his family.

Who were the perpetrators of this online abuse? Ordinary people like us—some acting out of malice, others simply reacting to content they disagreed with without considering the bigger picture.

This brings us to a crucial question: How are our thoughts and behaviors being shaped by the opinions we encounter on social media? The transformation this has caused in society is something we must seriously reflect on.

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Couch Patriots, are we a victim of framing effect

In 1972, my father brought home gifts for my sister and me from his trip.

Two books, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, were written by Chakravarti Rajgopalchari. We were disappointed. At the age of 6/7, our expectations were a box of sweets or some fancy dress, not books on mythology.

By then, we were somewhat exposed to the Ram Laxman Sita Hanuman stories of the Ramayana from various children's magazines and were naturally attracted to it. I started reading it with gusto and read multiple times after that. Ramayana was easily digestible by our simple, young minds. It was entertaining too. It filled our unformed minds with the ideas of heroes, ideals, and we started picturing people with that lens.

The story of a good king, a bad king, a good mother, a bad mother, a good brother, a bad brother, a good servant, a bad servant. Good and bad, black and white, and as expected, the story ended with good winning over bad. Hundreds of movies were inspired by this epic, and nothing was better than Ramayana to ground your stories on to deliver a linear message to the masses – that good ultimately wins over the bad and truth prevails. It was a story where the heroes agreed to make huge personal sacrifices to uphold the principles and values of that time. It overrode rules and personal and collective interests.

The Mahabharata and the hundreds of stories it held together were unknown to us. Years passed, we grew, and I started reading the Mahabharata much later.

I was amazed. Amazed by all the layers behind the façade of the characters. How relatable they were, how human the characters on the pedestals became. No one could have done a better job than C Rajgopalchari to present this vast and complex epic so scientifically. It’s presented like a fishbone diagram, which we use to describe the different sets of players and when they join, and how the project moves forward. It exposed us to the complex world of the human journey, which is nothing but dealing with the dilemmas a situation offers, challenging you. Relationships, basic human instincts, latent complexes, and how people have landed in their situations because of multiple karmic consequences. All the players were so human with their human characteristics, or call it failings. No one is perfectly white, and no one is black; all are shades of grey. It encouraged pursuing the greater good and dealing with dilemmas, setting aside emotions, and being tactful. To diligently pursue it even if it required bending rules, compromising certain principles and values in certain situations, and accepting its consequences later for the greater good. Because it’s important to discharge one's responsibility and not get distracted or affected by hundreds of emotional dilemmas.

It took us time to accept that the people we thought of as benevolent, as our ideals and worship them as demi-gods, have shades of grey, fifty or more at times. But because of their situational constraints, to achieve the greater good and larger goals, you have to engage them, deal with them, get your thing done, dump them, forget them, and remove them from your life.

After that, we started observing people in our surroundings, observing people and their secret interests, camouflaged motives, biases, prejudices, compulsions, helplessness, inertia, their attitudes towards themselves, the people around them, and their jobs. Also, their honesty, integrity, and attitude. All of these made each one of us uniquely different.

It made us more practical and wiser. It lowered our expectations of the authorities and those self-appointed paternal figures, without being hopeless. The result? People around us became more human. We stopped hero-worshipping and saw them as our equals and became more accepting, which made us more tolerant and less rebellious.

We became wiser.

We have become wiser through the years of observing people and their behaviour. We could understand the motives and interests, and their personalities, and their responses to their childhood traumas behind their behaviour.

But have we actually become wiser?

When a conflict, big or small, physical or legal, ensues, it's presented in the form of news by various media outlets, and depending on the nature of the conflict, may be referred to the legal process for resolution or adjudication. We, as the audience, get to see the event either through the lens of the reportage or the statement of a person affected by it. Both present the story from a point where the action has encroached on someone's rights and has attracted legal attention. It tells us a side of the story, not the balanced story as we found in the Mahabharata. Here, one can craftily present the incident and create a narrative to suit their agenda.

In Psychology, it is called the Framing Effect.

It’s a cognitive bias where people’s decisions are influenced by how information is presented, even if the underlying facts are the same. This means that the way a choice is framed can significantly influence a person's decision-making, even if the options are logically identical. A cognitive bias is a systematic pattern of deviation from rationality in judgment and decision-making. Recognizing the framing effect and consciously evaluating information from multiple perspectives can help mitigate its influence.

Historically speaking, many people in positions of power have liberally used it to influence public opinion and their consequential decision-making. It's quite easy to create an emotion-stirring incident, plant a narrative, identify a fall guy or a certain vulnerable community, whip up passion, rally people around you for support, brand them as enemies, and set them on fire and silently achieve your goals. We know about these things happening, but we choose not to think or question because we feel that we are far away from getting affected by this design.

Let me ask again.

Are you wise enough to see or sense the things which are not visible to the normal eye, which are carefully covered? Are you not a victim of the Framing Effect?

The reason I am asking this is that we are in a war with our neighbouring country. While we are cheering our army and jeering our enemies and overflowing with patriotic fervour from the comfort of our homes, someone is fighting for us. The ones who are fighting, firing the bullets, and getting killed by the bullets didn’t want to fight and don’t know why they are fighting. They are fighting and getting killed because either they have been asked to fight, or, unfortunately, some bystanders found themselves in the crossfire. The loss is not limited to them only; every country gets affected negatively in a war.

The evil ones who have plotted the war, incited the war, and executed the war will never hear the sound of a bullet. No bullet ever will whiz past their ears, the sound of an exploding bomb will never render them deaf, and a mortal cell will never land in their compound. The innocents will die and lose their properties, and the evil ones will get their agenda fulfilled and coffers filled.

Let's be wise enough to see incidents not the way or from the point they presented to us, but by observing many unrelated developments that don’t seem related on the surface. And synthesise a new narrative by joining the dots. It’s not difficult if you don’t allow the news reports or the rhetoric to bias your rationality.

And ask yourself the following questions.

1. Did the killers of Pahalgam behave as normal terrorists do? What was different and why?

2. Did the media report the incidents normally as they should? Or did they have their agenda? Whose agenda were they executing?

3. In the event of a war, who stands to benefit and who stands to lose?

4. Will this war be decisive? If yes, are you ready to handle the consequences of it?

5. If it's not, then will one more war solve it? 

6. The last, what is your benefit and loss?

You may not like to answer these questions now, but once you are done with your patriotic duty from your couch, gather enough courage and intellect to face these unpleasant questions. Remember, the country needs wise patriots, not gullible nationalists, who can be easily manipulated, fooled, deceived, or distracted.

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What's in a Kiss, Man.

A New Year party, an hour past midnight, euphoria dying down, a couple mildly drunk were seen dancing alone to the slowing tempo of the music. The music stopped, everyone clapped, and they hugged each other, ending with the girl planting a kiss on the lips of the man—her cousin brother. She breezed back to her waiting friends with an air of nonchalance, and when confronted by her friends sitting closely, her repartee was as candid…. It was just a kiss, man!

Those friends of the girl were scandalized and shocked!

Udit Narayan, the famous playback singer, was invited to a selfie mid-performance by a girl in the audience. While taking the selfie, she planted a kiss on his cheeks, and Udit responded immediately by returning a kiss on her lips. The Internet exploded with millions of comments in response to the act, with the majority castigating Narain for this inappropriate act.

Ranveer Allahabadia, a YouTuber, podcaster, and Influencer known by the name Beer Biceps with a formidable follower score was a co-host in the show ‘’India’s Got Latent’ said something to a participant which left many with a bad taste in their mouth. Many were outraged by his inappropriate remark. A case was filed, the police investigation has started, and the parliamentary standing committee on communication and information and technology is likely to summon him. Ranveer has gone public in seeking forgiveness for his act which happened in a state of over-excitement.

What’s common between these three incidents or controversies if we may call it?

They did something in a state of excitement or joy without meaning anything other than just – fun. But the people who were around or saw it on media didn’t take it like that. All three said something or did something either spontaneously or reacted in that way to some external trigger or the spirit of that occasion which they would not have done normally.

Many, upon realizing that they have overstepped, regret, and withdraw their words. Some ask for forgiveness when they see that the recipient or the audience in that situation is reacting negatively to it. Some lie low waiting for the tsunami of outrage to pass naturally. All cite momentary lapse of judgment as the reason and request people to forget it.

What is a ‘momentary lapse of judgment’ and how susceptible we are to it?

It refers to a brief, temporary failure or error in judgment, often resulting in an impulsive or unwise decision. This phrase is commonly used to describe situations where someone's usual good judgment or common sense is momentarily clouded, leading to a mistake or regrettable action. In essence, a momentary lapse of judgment is a fleeting mental slip-up, where one's usual rational thinking and decision-making processes are briefly disrupted. The phrase is often used to acknowledge that everyone makes mistakes and that even usually responsible or level-headed individuals can experience brief lapses in judgment.

Examples of momentary lapses of judgment include; saying something hurtful or regrettable in the heat of the moment, making an impulsive purchase or financial decision, engaging in reckless or irresponsible behavior, and taking a risk without considering the potential consequences. People getting scammed online also belong to the same category.

We have experienced it from both sides as the doer or the recipient of such acts.

Remember the last time at the school reunion you narrated an incident from the past in your speech? To you and others, it was funny but to your dear friend, it was embarrassing. You realized that when you found him sulking. You asked for forgiveness when you started seeing things from his perspective. You so wanted to reverse everything and wished it had not happened the way it did.

We all have seen how a sozzled Jijaji at a marriage reception goes overboard while flirting with his Saliji, much to the embarrassment of all the relatives and their children.

A friendly hug, if it lingers for a few moments longer, may put the recipient in discomfort. A friendly touch of yours dangerously borders on being judged negatively. A long stare at a public place like an airport terminal or a bus stop is seen as an intrusive act by a person from Western culture.

Ranveer got carried away in the new age roast comedy called ‘India's Got Latent’ where the invited person is intentionally abused with impromptu comments by the judges to which everyone laughs including the one targeted. Wit and humour are enjoyed and celebrated. This is the latest rage in comedy shows. Samay Raina is the new star who has exploded into that space. This was a very Western thing and is gaining ground in India mostly in the metros and amongst people who are urban, intelligent, and mature. 

They pick up one person from the audience and start a conversation and from the conversation, they pick up something odd and start making fun of it in good spirit. Anyone who enjoys a Max Amini show would understand. He doesn’t space people, their professions, races they belong to, countries they come from, their faith, and all the things we take as holy. No one takes the comments personally. 

The audience comes prepared to know that something like this will happen.

Such things are normal among boys during their school and college days. Languages and relationships are pushed to the extremes to the point of being unacceptable. To the passersby or audience, it may seem crass and inappropriate but boys mostly bond by roasting each other in the crudest or cruelest way. The same can’t be said about the girls. They don’t take such personal comments lightly.

We deal with people and society all the time and they have their holy cows, perceptions, values, sensitivities, and boundaries of tolerance. It’s unique when it comes to an individual or culture when it involves a group. 

Communication written, verbal, and non-verbal, gestures, body language, stares, and touches can please or offend someone or some group without you intending it to be so.

Are we all not treading dangerously on a path that is decorated with roses but has booby traps underneath?

As a human, we always can’t be in a state of alertness with the people we are dealing with or stay level-headed about the people and our surroundings only to do things to please them and not touch their lines of sensitivities which are unknown to us. Living with the constant fear of doing something inappropriate without intending to do so may make each of us proper but the world will be such a dull place inhabited by joyless serious people who are without wit, jokes, and humour. 

If the situation demands that we let our hair down and have some fun, we have to be prepared for such unintended accidents. Then the only thing we are left with is to reach out to others at the earliest occasion and say a big SORRY to have hurt his feelings.

In India, we are seeing a new trend. 

The number of holy cows is just not limited to the cows now. Anything and everything associated with a political party is considered holy. Color, festivals, cities, names, buildings, trains, and state programs enjoy that status. People aligned with their thoughts or associated with them are becoming over-sensitive to jokes and mild critiques even as if it's some crime against the nation. 

The same India, where slang and Gallis enjoyed cult status because of their creative use. Haryana is famous for Hajirjawabi, and Delhi for making MC, and BC a part of normal lingo. Places like Puri, Benaras, and Berhampur are known for their liberal use of profanities by common men. All know that they are not meant to hurt or offend anyone.

Are we becoming a nation of intolerant people or we are wearing our sensitivities like some badge of honour?

Are we becoming serious about things that are not to be taken seriously?

Manoj Bajpayee dismissed the whole controversy by saying – they are immature and moved on to do something important.