Let me start with a simple question.
If everything is going so wonderfully in India—if the economy is booming, governance is strong, institutions are independent, security is airtight—then why does the government spend so much time begging us to believe it?
Confident nations don’t need daily reassurance. Functional systems don’t need hashtags. And real progress does not arrive with a drum roll and a disclaimer.
India today is not collapsing. That’s the dangerous part. It is appearing stable while quietly hollowing out—like a beautifully renovated house where the walls are freshly painted, the lights are bright, the guests are impressed… but the foundation is cracking underneath. And anyone who points to the cracks is accused of being “anti-house.”
And if you think I’m exaggerating, allow me to present Exhibit A: the Great Civilisational AI Moment.
THE AI SPECTACLE: PEOPLE, PLANET, PROJECTION
In February 2026, India hosted the grandly titled India-AI Impact Summit 2026 at Bharat Mandapam. It was billed as the first major global AI summit hosted by a Global South nation—a historic milestone, a technological awakening, a digital Kumbh Mela with GPUs.
Over 2.5 lakh visitors. Global leaders. Policymakers. Startups. Exhibitors from 30 countries. Thirty-eight thousand GPUs—because nothing says inclusive technology like aggressively counting your graphics processors.
The summit revolved around three sacred guiding principles: People, Planet, and Progress. And because this is India, we upgraded themes into “Chakras.” Seven of them. Human Capital Chakra. Inclusion Chakra. Safe and Trusted AI Chakra. Resilience Chakra. Innovation Chakra. Democratising AI Chakra. Economic Development Chakra.
There was this moment - more funny than fun - when the global Hi-Tech honchos were ambushed. Suddenly, they were asked to lock their hands with each other and raise their arms skywards. Confusion writ large on the elite faces, while a couple of them revealed their mutual hostility by not joining hands and displaying fists. Was it consensus AI style? Waiting for the official clarification. By the end of the inaugural speech, one half expected a Vishwaroop Darshan of artificial intelligence itself.
Eight foundational AI models were launched under the IndiaAI program—multilingual systems from IIT Bombay, domain-specific models for agriculture, healthcare, science. AI avatars for Indian languages. Data labs. Fellowships for 13,500 scholars. A target of 10,000 GPUs surpassed like a schoolchild proudly exceeding homework requirements.
On paper, it was impressive. On television, it was mystical. Barring one Chinese robot, which was presented as pure Hindustani. Thanks to the Galgotias genius, the Chinese Unitree Go2 robot dog was converted and naturalised as Indian Orion robot dog. The scandal reveals how low the ethical standards have fallen not just in our educational but just about every Indian enterprise and institution.
Unsurprisingly, at a summit supposedly about India’s AI scientists, startups, and researchers, the spotlight seemed unusually well-trained—not on code, not on labs, not on young innovators—but on a single, omnipresent face.
The Prime Minister inaugurated the event. Which is normal. He spoke about AI being a “civilizational moment.” Which is also normal. What was less normal was how the event coverage slowly transformed from “India’s AI Leap” into “AI Bows to Supreme Vision.”
Panels discussed human-centred innovation. Anchors discussed leadership-centred inspiration. Developers explained multilingual models. Prime-time studios explained how artificial intelligence itself was grateful to the powers that be.
The Godi Media, ever alert, understood the assignment. Instead of showcasing the scientists who built models from 500 proposals, we were treated to multi-angle shots, reverential background music, and graphics that made it appear as if silicon chips had personally endorsed the leadership.
It was less a technology summit and more a devotional festival where GPUs hummed in patriotic frequency.
To be clear: hosting a global AI summit is good. Investing in AI infrastructure is necessary. Expanding fellowships is commendable. But when projection begins to overshadow participation, something curious happens.
We stop celebrating institutions.
We start celebrating individuals.
And that is the recurring pattern.
GROWTH WITH A CREDIT CARD
India loves big numbers. Trillion-dollar dreams. Five-trillion-dollar promises. Seven-trillion-dollar fantasies. What we don’t love discussing is how those numbers are being achieved.
Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: a growing chunk of India’s growth is being fuelled not by productivity or innovation, but by borrowing. The country is running on debt like a middle-aged executive pretending energy drinks are a long-term health plan. Central and state governments together are carrying a debt load that would make any responsible household panic. But in official speeches, debt has been rebranded as “confidence.”
Borrowing isn’t bad—when it builds capacity. But borrowing to maintain appearances is a classic path to trouble. Interest payments now eat into budgets that should have gone to schools, hospitals, and research. We are borrowing to pay for yesterday’s borrowing. That’s not development. That’s refinancing reality.
And then there is the great free-ration miracle. Eighty crore Indians receive free food grain. This is presented as compassion. And it is compassionate—in an emergency. But here’s the problem: emergencies end. Or at least, they’re supposed to.
In India, the emergency has become a political strategy. There is no exit plan. No timeline. No roadmap for how these families move from dependence to dignity. You can’t build a confident economy by permanently feeding people while refusing to ask why they aren’t earning enough to feed themselves. Welfare without employment is not empowerment. It is managed helplessness.
Exports, meanwhile, are quietly underperforming. Despite all the chest-thumping about manufacturing powerhouses, India struggles to compete on quality, reliability, and innovation. Vietnam exports more electronics. Bangladesh dominates garments. China owns entire value chains. India? We excel at inaugurations.
The problem is not that Indians can’t manufacture. It’s that policy rewards proximity to power over competence. Contracts go to the connected. Quality control is an afterthought. Protectionism replaces competitiveness. When foreign markets reject our products, we ban imports instead of fixing factories.
And unemployment? Officially, it’s under control. Magically so. Because if you redefine unemployment creatively enough, it disappears. A delivery worker becomes an entrepreneur. A gig job becomes a startup. A frustrated graduate becomes “self-employed.”
Tell that to the 27-year-old engineer driving twelve hours a day with no security, no benefits, and no future. He isn’t empowered. He is being pacified.
GOVERNANCE—INSTITUTIONS WITH A MUTE BUTTON
Corruption, we’re told, is a thing of the past. Which is fascinating, because corruption cases haven’t vanished. They’ve just changed direction.
Cash bribes have evolved into electoral bonds. Suitcases have been replaced by shell companies. Scams don’t disappear—they migrate to safer political ecosystems. If you’re accused and inconvenient, you’re investigated. If you’re accused and useful, you’re inducted.
The real scandal is not corruption itself. India has survived corruption before. The scandal is the destruction of accountability. When agencies act selectively, when investigations depend on loyalty rather than law, the message to the citizen is clear: justice is negotiable.
Public health is another lesson India refused to learn. COVID exposed everything—staff shortages, oxygen scarcity, underfunded hospitals. We applauded healthcare workers, declared victory, and promptly forgot every structural reform required. Health spending remains low. Primary care remains neglected. Another crisis will arrive. And when it does, we will again act surprised.
Crime statistics, meanwhile, have become political documents. Hate crimes are renamed. Lynchings become “incidents.” Riots are rebranded as “spontaneous reactions.” Victims are investigated more aggressively than perpetrators.
When law enforcement starts asking what the victim was wearing—or believing—the rule of law has already been compromised.
The judiciary and police, once pillars of trust, are increasingly perceived as pressured, delayed, or selectively efficient. Cases that matter to the powerful move fast. Cases that matter to ordinary citizens move… eventually. Or never.
Justice delayed is bad. Justice selectively delayed is corrosive.
POLITICS—DEMOCRACY AS PERFORMANCE ART
Parliament is supposed to be the place where national problems are debated. Instead, it has become a theatre of disruption, suspensions, and rushed legislation. Laws affecting millions are passed with minimal discussion, while MPs shout slogans and television anchors call it “robust democracy.”
Debate is treated as obstruction. Questions are treated as sabotage. And dissent is framed as disloyalty.
This is how democracy hollows out—not through coups, but through contempt for process.
What is missing from Indian politics today is painfully obvious: serious discussion about education quality. Not enrolment numbers. Not photo-ops. Actual learning. Teacher training. Research funding. Skill relevance.
India loves to boast about its demographic dividend. But a dividend only pays when you invest wisely. An under-skilled, under-employed youth population is not a dividend. It is deferred instability.
SECURITY—LOUD CLAIMS, QUIET FAILURES
Officially, terrorism is under control. Unofficially, incidents continue. Intelligence warnings are occasionally ignored. Accountability is rare. After every attack, the response is predictable: patriotic visuals, emotional speeches, and warnings against asking uncomfortable questions.
Internal security has increasingly shifted from targeting threats to targeting identities. Surveillance, profiling, and detention are justified as “precautionary.” Citizens are told to prove loyalty repeatedly. Silence becomes suspicious.
This does not create security. It creates resentment.
Borders, despite all the rhetoric, remain porous in multiple regions. Strategic challenges are complex and long-term. But long-term thinking doesn’t trend. So we substitute speeches for strategy.
THE FOURTH ESTATE FOR SALE: FROM WATCHDOG TO LAPDOG
India’s mainstream media today no longer asks questions—it negotiates terms. Once imagined as a watchdog, it now behaves more like a pampered pet, trained to bark only at approved targets and roll over for power on cue. Prime-time studios have become auction houses where ethics are quietly traded for advertising revenue, government access, and political patronage. News is no longer reported; it is curated, choreographed, and conveniently aligned with the mood of those in authority. Investigative journalism has been replaced by shouting matches, nationalism has become a substitute for verification, and loyalty is rewarded more generously than accuracy. Editors who once feared getting facts wrong now fear getting phone calls right. The result is a pliable press that amplifies power, silences dissent, demonises inconvenient citizens, and calls it “nation-building.” When the media stops holding power accountable and instead sells accountability to the highest bidder, democracy doesn’t collapse overnight—it is slowly suffocated under a pile of breaking news graphics, patriotic background music, and paid silence.
CONCLUSION: THE REPUBLIC OF PERMANENT APPLAUSE
Let me be very clear. India is not doomed. But it is drifting. And drift is dangerous precisely because it feels calm.
We are becoming a country where numbers look impressive but systems are weak. Where institutions exist but hesitate. Where elections happen but debate shrinks. Where citizens are fed but not empowered. Where criticism is tolerated only until it becomes inconvenient.
This is not dictatorship. It is something quieter. A democracy where applause is mandatory and silence is strategic.
Red flags are not anti-national. They are alarms. And nations that smash their fire alarms to enjoy the music burn down beautifully.
Patriotism is not obedience. It is responsibility. And the most patriotic thing you can do today is to stop clapping long enough to ask where we are headed—and whether the foundation can still carry the weight of all those promises.
Because slogans don’t hold buildings together.
Systems do.
GalgotiasUniversity, AISummit, BharatMandapam, IndianEconomy, IndianPolitics, GovernanceCrisis, Unemployment, IndianDebt, FreeRations, MakeInIndia, EconomicReality, RuleOfLaw, JudicialIndependence, JobCrisis, CorruptionInIndia, InstitutionalDecline, ParliamentDebate, IndianParliament, PoliticalAccountability, DemocracyInDanger, InternalSecurity, HateCrimes, CivilLiberties, HumanRightsIndia, NationalSecurity, PoliticalCommentary, CurrentAffairs, NewsAnalysis, RealityCheck, CriticalThinking,
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