Improve on the worst possiblity (Aug 2026)

My Meditations    « Previously

9 Aug 2026, 6PM

# Improve on your Worst case scenario.

# To love what you are doing: Assume this is your final hour and that it's the last time you are doing that you do, it's the last conversation between you and that person, it's the last time that you having your coffee, write as if it's the last time that you are writing...

# Value people above money and material. Value the living above non-living.

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Atomic Habit addresses bad days and low motivation moments through three core strategies:

(1) The 2-minute rule (Scaling down habits):
Rather than trying to maintain maximum performance on your worst days, scale your habit down so it takes two minutes or less (e.g. instead of running 5 miles, put on your running shoes). This keeps the neural pathway alive even when energy is at its lowest.

(2) Never miss twice: Missing a habit once is an accident; missing it twice is the start of a new, bad habit. The goal on bad days isn't to hit a personal best, but to maintain continuity.

(3) Focusing on the process/trajectory: James Clear says that small, repeated actions define your identity over time.

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Ask yourself: What is the worst thing that would happen as a consequence of your death?

Next proceed to take just a small step towards improving the worst possible outcome.

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The Unending Agony of India's Exam Warriors: From Ranchi to Raisina

An election is not the only place where a government’s credibility is tested. In India, the examination hall is a far more brutal courtroom. Here, the state stands directly accused by its youngest citizens, and the evidence—leaked papers, rigged OMR sheets, commissions that cannot conduct a single exam on time—is damning. The protests engulfing Ranchi are neither new nor local. They are a national indictment, a scream from the heart of a country where the very institutions meant to guarantee fair selection have become syndicates of loot. And as students gather at Jaipal Singh Stadium, braving lathis and hunger, the silence from New Delhi and the sudden noise of a fractured media expose a conspiracy of indifference that has ruined generations.

The Ranchi Protest: A Microcosm of Systemic Rot

For almost a fortnight, the youth of Jharkhand have been on the streets. They are not asking for a change in syllabus or a few grace marks. Their demands are foundational: that the Jharkhand Public Service Commission (JPSC) and the Jharkhand Staff Selection Commission (JSSC) be held accountable; that the chairpersons of these bodies be appointed with transparency; that the officials who played with their futures face criminal action. A student from Ranchi, Devendranath Mahto, has been on a hunger strike for three days—a picture of Shibu Soren in his hand, a tragic reminder that even a tribal icon’s party now stands accused of the same betrayal as its predecessors.

The facts are not opinion. In 2015, the JPSC advertised an examination. It was cancelled twice. For three years, only the preliminary exam could be held; the mains exam did not happen for four years. This was under a BJP government. In 2024, the Jharkhand Eligibility Test saw question papers not reach centres in Ranchi and Bokaro, and the printing was so abysmal that the papers were illegible. This happened under the Hemant Soren-led JMM-Congress government. Twenty-six years after the state’s formation, the commissions are still not capable of conducting a single examination without controversy. The government now rushes to form committees, to send ministers to talk, to arrest a few middlemen. But the network—the coaching mafia, the corrupt officials, the politicians who protect them—was allowed to grow precisely because no one in power wanted to dismantle it. The students’ rage is not spontaneous; it is accumulated poison.

The following table, assembled from media reports and testimony, captures just a sliver of the chaos:

Incident	Year	Details
JPSC examination cancelled twice	2015–2018	Only prelims conducted in three years; mains never held under BJP rule.
JSSC paper leak arrests	2024	Abhay Tiwari, a former TDP agency marketing manager, identified as mastermind; multiple coaching centres raided.
Jharkhand Eligibility Test fiasco	April 2024	Papers not delivered; unreadable printing; exams cancelled after large-scale protest.
OMR swapping racket busted	2024	Suman Saurabh allegedly scored 48 marks but was passed; CID raids linked to Patanjali Academy.

The government’s response? Threatening words, a committee, and a promise of a CBI probe that may never come. Meanwhile, BJP spokesperson Kunal Sarangi tweeted that “all gangs and their masters will be found” and punished—a statement that conveniently forgets the party’s own history with the Vyapam scam in Madhya Pradesh, where backdoor doctor degrees were handed out like pamphlets. The Congress, in opposition, is no better. Rahul Gandhi holds rallies in Kota and Prayagraj, speaking of paper leaks and student despair. But his own party’s government in Jharkhand has presided over the same rot. The student is asked to choose between two sets of arsonists—one has already set the house on fire, the other is promising to burn it more “justly”.

The All-India Disease: Paper Leaks and the NTA’s Dubious Chief

Away from Ranchi, a larger, more sinister architecture of fraud has been erected by the central government. The National Testing Agency (NTA), created to streamline entrance exams, has become a byword for scandal. And at its helm sits a man whose career is a masterclass in how the RSS and BJP reward loyalty over competence. Pradeep Kumar Joshi—current chairman of the NTA—has spent two decades moving from one top post to another, trailing controversies like a shadow.

An investigation by The Indian Express, based on RTI documents cited by Milind Ghatwai, revealed that Joshi was appointed chairman of the Madhya Pradesh Public Service Commission in 2006 on the recommendation of the RSS’s kshetriya pracharak Vinod ji, who explicitly stated that Joshi was “not the president of the Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad”—a clear admission that ideological proximity, not merit, was the criterion. After five years in MP, he was made chairman of the Chhattisgarh PSC in 2011. From there, he went straight to the UPSC as a member for five years, and then became its chairman in August 2020. In 2023, he was placed at the head of the NTA. In his 20-year career, at least 13 major controversies are linked to his name, including paper leaks. Yet his rise has been uninterrupted.

The NEET-UG 2024 examination, conducted by the NTA for the first time, was marred by allegations of paper leaks and inflated marks. While students were on the streets in Delhi, the government and its Godi media remained silent. The Prime Minister’s Office, which never misses an opportunity to pose with exam warriors, had nothing to say about the agency it created. The entire architecture of competitive examinations has been reduced to a patronage network, and the chief of that network is promoted again and again. If this is not institutional corruption, what is?

The Two-Faced Media: Silencing Protests in Delhi, Amplifying in Opposition States

Nowhere is the cynicism of this government more visible than in the behaviour of the “Godi media”. When students protested at Jantar Mantar—in the heart of Modi’s Delhi—the same channels that will scream for hours about a temple or a cow vigilante buried the story. They called the protesters Chinese agents, Pakistani agents, anything to delegitimise a cry for employment. But the moment protests erupted in Ranchi, under a non-BJP government, cameras rushed in. Suddenly, every anchor was a messiah of the youth, every prime-time debate a courtroom for Hemant Soren. The switch is so mechanical that even a child can see the script.

These media houses receive hundreds of crores of rupees in government advertisements—money taken from the same taxpayers whose children are now being lathi-charged. They have hundreds of reporters, dozens of empty anchors, and not a single one was allowed to raise the students’ voice in Delhi. Instead, they run four people in boxes spouting nonsense from their bedrooms. Meanwhile, a lone YouTuber can do more factual coverage in a 15-minute video than an entire media empire does in a year. The government should, with immediate effect, stop all advertisement flow to these propaganda machines and redirect the funds to independent journalists who actually stand with the people. Let the prime-time bullies survive without the state’s crutch—they will not last a single evening.

The Larger Rot: Higher Education in the Hindi Belt

But there is a question no political party, no commission, and no coaching giant wants the students to ask: what about the colleges they came from? For years, the Hindi-speaking states have been subjected to a deliberate devaluation of higher education. In hundreds of districts, not a single college is functional. A handful of professors—retired, tired, or simply absent—guard empty corridors. The rest are busy doing “cultural” work: organising religious events, running abvp campaigns, stoking communal tensions. It is a brilliant diversion. A teacher who cannot step into a classroom to explain a basic concept can still pose as a guardian of Hinduism and escape all scrutiny. The student, already weak in language and logic, enters a coaching centre thinking 20 hours of memorisation will compensate for three years of rot. It does not.

For two decades, this destruction has been intentional. It did not happen by accident; it was brought. Brought by design, by a politics that finds it easier to rule over an uneducated, desperate populace that sees a Rs. 15,000 government job as the ultimate salvation. The students who are now marching did not ask for critical thinking; they were trained to crave a post, any post. And they will win their battle for fair exams—they must—but even if they do, they will walk into offices and classrooms with a hollowed-out intellect. The damage will take another twenty years to undo.

Criticisms

— The Prime Minister is observed to have never personally addressed the systematic failures of the NTA, the paper leak crisis, or the brazen political appointments in examination bodies.

— The central government is noted to have weaponized silence and misinformation during the Jantar Mantar student protests, while permitting aggressive coverage in opposition-ruled states.

— The Godi media is seen to have abandoned journalistic duty in exchange for hundreds of crores in taxpayer-funded advertisements, actively branding young protesters as anti-national elements.

— The BJP’s legacy of the Vyapam scam and the continued patronage of individuals like P.K. Joshi is regarded as a direct assault on meritocracy and social mobility.

— The Hemant Soren-led Jharkhand government is found to have procrastinated on dissolving both the JPSC and the JSSC despite years of evidence of their complete administrative failure.

— The Congress leadership is perceived as exploiting student anger for political rallies while failing to reform examination systems in its own states, thereby eroding the credibility of its demands.

— The RSS’s role in placing ideological loyalists in crucial institutional positions is identified as a primary reason for the collapse of impartiality in public service commissions across India.

— The higher education infrastructure in Hindi-speaking states is recognised as having been deliberately degraded by successive governments to produce a dependent, easily manipulated workforce rather than a thinking citizenry.

— The coaching mafia and the political class are believed to operate in symbiosis, with arrests made only as spectacle, never as structural correction.

— The entire competitive examination apparatus, from paper-setting to result declaration, is charged with being captured by networks of corruption that span multiple states and parties, leaving the ordinary student with no recourse but the street.

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Owning a Home in India Today: Dream, Trap, or Smart Move?

It’s late at night. You’ve just hung up with your mother. She asked you the same questions she always does: Did you eat well? Are you sleeping properly? Is work going fine? And then you remember. Your parents spent their entire life in a rented home, raising you and your sister, sacrificing so that you could get an education, land a job, and stand on your own feet. Today you have that job, your sister is doing well, and both of you can afford a decent 3‑bedroom flat. Not a mansion with a swimming pool or a helipad—just a simple roof over your heads that you can call your own. But every time you check listings, nothing is below ₹1.5 crore. You earn ₹15 lakh a year—not a small amount—but after taxes and living expenses, you save about ₹80,000–85,000 a month. To buy that home, you would need a loan of around ₹1.25 crore, with an EMI of roughly ₹1.25 lakh for the next 25 years. Suddenly, the dream feels impossible. You wonder: is buying a house the biggest mistake of my life? Am I forever trapped in rent, failing as a son or daughter? These are not just anxious thoughts; they’re the new reality for millions of Indians. Let’s unpack what has changed, what the numbers actually say, and when—if ever—buying a home makes sense.

The Vanishing Affordable Dream

To understand the frustration, step back to 1995. A house in the suburbs—slightly away from the city—could cost around ₹8 lakh on average. Fast forward 20 years to 2015, and that same home had become ₹80 lakh. The house didn’t suddenly become ten times better; cities expanded, suburbs turned into prime locations, and demand simply exploded. I remember my own story. My family moved to Faridabad about 20 years ago. Before that, we always lived on rent in Lajpat Nagar, a middle‑class pocket of South Delhi. The rent for our two‑bedroom flat was ₹4,500. Owning a home was a lifelong dream. I recall neighbours buying homes in Sarita Vihar back then, and we thought they had gone too far. Today, Sarita Vihar is a fully developed urban hub. And when it was our turn, the best we could afford was in Faridabad—in Green Fields Colony, which in 2002 was practically a forest. You could spot deer, nilgai, and hear peacocks. We took a loan of around ₹8–9 lakh to buy it. Today, that same ageing house is worth about ₹60–65 lakh. The prices across the country have followed a similar trajectory.

Consider the ratio of home price to annual income. Two decades ago, a flat might cost 3 to 5 times your yearly salary. Today, in cities like Mumbai, the same home is 30‑35 times your annual income. A finance professional I know bought a house in Mumbai in 2007 for 3.4 times his salary. By 2025, that multiple has swollen to 30 times. Delhi‑NCR has been no kinder: residential prices have surged 81% in the last five years alone. In Noida and Greater Noida, rates have nearly doubled. Across India’s top seven cities, the average price increase post‑Covid has been 51%. Meanwhile, did your salary grow 51% in those same five years? Probably not.

The affordable segment is shrinking as well. In 2019, about 40% of all new housing launches were priced under ₹45 lakh. By 2025‑26, that category accounts for a mere 18%. Builders are chasing luxury apartments because that’s where the margins are fatter. Black money hasn’t vanished, so those high‑end units get lapped up within hours of launch. When a DLF project in Gurgaon sells out in three hours at ₹7 crore a flat, an entire generation starts to feel something shift. They’re not just saying “I can’t afford it”; they’re saying “I don’t want this.” The emotional retreat is real.

The Gen‑Z Mindset and the Rent‑Is‑Better Argument

Faced with such numbers, many young Indians are checking out of the home‑buying dream. “To hell with it,” they say. “I’d rather enjoy my life, travel, spend on experiences, and not be a slave to a 25‑year loan.” And you know what? They have a point. Financial influencers (or “finfluencers”) often champion renting as the smarter move, and on paper, the math can look compelling.

Before we dive into the numbers, let’s acknowledge an important side note. Smart money decisions don’t end with housing. For example, many people fear credit cards, but when used wisely, they can be powerful tools. A credit card gives you up to 45 days of interest‑free credit, helps build your credit score (which in turn can reduce your future home loan interest), and rewards you with points that can fund travel or vouchers. The challenge is that India offers over 400 credit cards, and finding the best one for your needs is a headache. That’s why we built monzi.co. In just 60 seconds, you answer a few simple questions—no spam, no personal details shared, no tracking—and the platform recommends your ideal credit card. You can apply or ignore it, completely free. It’s a tool to help you make better financial moves. Now, back to housing.

The Buy‑vs‑Rent Math: A Bangalore Case Study

Let’s do some concrete math. Suppose you want a two‑bedroom flat in Bangalore priced at ₹1 crore. You have two options: buy it or rent it.

If you buy: You need a 20% down payment, which is ₹20 lakh. Add stamp duty and registration of about ₹5‑6 lakh. For the remaining ₹80 lakh, you take a home loan at 8.75% for 20 years. Your EMI works out to roughly ₹71,000 per month. On top of that, you’ll pay property tax, maintenance charges, and occasional repairs. If the property appreciates at 7% per year (a generous assumption for apartments these days), after 20 years it would be worth around ₹3.9 crore. Your asset has grown, and you’ve paid off the loan.

If you rent: The same flat would rent for about ₹24,000 a month. That means the bank demands ₹71,000 to help you buy it, but the landlord will let you live there for ₹24,000. Why the massive difference? Because rental yields in India are painfully low. Rental yield is the annual rent divided by the property value. In most Indian cities, it hovers around 2.5% to 3.5%. For a ₹1 crore house, a 3% yield gives you ₹3 lakh a year, or ₹25,000 a month. Bangalore’s yield is typically 2.5–3.5%, Gurgaon is even worse at 2–2.5%, and Mumbai a slightly better 3.5–4%, but the overall picture is similar.

So, if you rent, you pay ₹24,000 instead of the ₹71,000 EMI. That leaves you with an extra ₹47,000 every month. Plus, you also save the ₹20 lakh down payment and ₹5 lakh stamp duty. If you invest that ₹47,000 monthly difference—and the upfront ₹25 lakh—into a diversified portfolio earning, say, 10% returns over 20 years, the total corpus could be well above ₹7.5 crore. That’s almost double the value of the home. On pure spreadsheet logic, renting and investing the difference wins hands down. Finfluencers aren’t wrong; they’re just telling half the story.

The Real Trap Isn’t Renting—It’s You

Here’s the bitter truth: the math works only if you actually invest that ₹47,000 every single month without fail for two decades. And for the vast majority of people, that discipline simply doesn’t exist. Where does that money typically go? Into renting a bigger place than you need—switching from a ₹24,000 apartment to a ₹40,000 one in Indiranagar because you can afford it. Or it goes into weekend getaways, the latest gadgets, or a hundred other lifestyle upgrades. These are not assets; they’re liabilities that start depreciating the moment you buy them. The trap is not rent; the trap is your inability to stay committed to a financial journey when extra cash burns a hole in your pocket.

Sceptics will argue that rent never stays static—it rises over the years, eroding your savings. That’s true. But so does the home loan EMI burden, especially when you factor in repairs and maintenance. The real horror story is the person who rented all their life, kept upgrading their rental, never invested the surplus, and at 60 finds themselves without an owned home, facing a steep rent, and with insufficient savings to buy even a small house. That’s the worst of both worlds. So, is buying a house ever the right decision? The confusion is understandable. Let’s clear it up.

What Changed from Our Parents’ Time to Ours?

In our parents’ generation, buying a house often meant buying land. A plot in a developing area had value not just in the structure but primarily in the land beneath it. Even if the house aged, the land appreciated. Today, most people buy apartments in vertical buildings. The same land is now sold floor by floor. Construction quality is often mediocre, wear and tear is high, and common areas deteriorate quickly. An old apartment’s value can diminish relatively fast as newer, shinier projects launch nearby. The pace of appreciation that your parents witnessed for their standalone home is not the same for a 20‑year‑old apartment. While real estate was once the undisputed king of investments, today I would argue that a well‑managed equity portfolio or even gold can outperform apartment real estate over the long term. Real estate remains a great place to park a large sum of money, but it is no longer the best asset for maximum returns—especially as apartments dominate new purchases.

When Does It Make Sense to Buy a House?

Despite the changed landscape, buying a home can still be a wise decision under the right conditions. Here’s the checklist:

1. Income stability: Your income should comfortably support a 20–25‑year loan without stretching you to the breaking point. If the EMI is more than 40–50% of your take‑home pay, you’re asking for trouble.
2. Right size for the future: The house should meet your family’s needs for at least the next 10–15 years. Buying too small now and upgrading later can be financially painful.
3. Location that supports your life: The neighbourhood should offer good job opportunities, be close to your support network, and have decent infrastructure. A cheap home in a poorly connected area might end up costing you in commuting and quality of life.
4. No chain, no cage: The loan should feel like a commitment you are making willingly, not a trap that strangles your freedom. Timing matters. If the purchase makes you anxious and sleepless, you’re not ready.

Many people ask: what’s the ideal age to buy? My suggestion is to avoid a home loan in your 20s. That decade is for building your career, taking risks, and most importantly, harnessing the magic of compounding by investing the rent‑vs‑EMI difference. If you start at 25 and diligently invest that surplus every month, then by the time you hit 35‑40, you could have accumulated a substantial down payment—perhaps 50‑60% of the property’s value, not just the standard 20%. You’ll also have a clearer picture of your family size, preferred location, and whether you even want to own a home. That maturity brings financial peace. I bought my home at 40, and it worked beautifully. My parents bought theirs at 50. Both were the right calls because the purchase didn’t become a cage.

A Simple Rule to Remember

Buying a house is primarily protection against the insecurity of old‑age renting. It gives you a roof when your income stops. It is not necessarily a great investment compared to other alternatives, but it is a solid asset that brings psychological comfort and stability. The golden rule: don’t let the house own you. If the numbers work, the location is right, and the loan doesn’t steal your life’s joy, go ahead. If not, take a deep breath. You’re not a failure for renting; you’re simply playing a longer, smarter game.

Conclusion: Key Takeaways

• - Home prices in India have soared exponentially, far outpacing income growth. The house‑price‑to‑income ratio in major cities is now 30‑40, making the dream unaffordable for many.
• - The affordable housing segment is shrinking as builders focus on luxury projects, leaving fewer options for first‑time buyers.
• - On paper, renting and investing the difference between EMI and rent can generate a higher corpus than owning a home, thanks to low rental yields (2.5–4%).
• - The real trap is not renting but the lack of discipline to invest that surplus each month. Lifestyle inflation usually swallows the extra cash.
• - Apartments, unlike the land‑based homes of our parents’ era, appreciate slower and can depreciate as they age, making them less attractive as pure investments.
• - Buying a home makes sense only when your income can comfortably support the loan, the house fits your long‑term needs, the location supports your career and family, and you don’t feel imprisoned by the debt.
• - The ideal age to buy is between 35 and 40—after you’ve built a significant down payment through years of disciplined investing and have clarity about your life’s direction.
• - Ultimately, homeownership is about security and emotional peace, not necessarily maximum returns. The decision should come from a place of calm, not compulsion.

Your career and skills are your biggest assets. A house is a shelter, not a substitute for a well‑planned life. Keep asking questions, stay disciplined, and remember: the roof over your head should be a shield, not a burden.

Citations and references: All data and statistics mentioned—such as the 81% residential price increase in Delhi‑NCR, the 51% average rise across top‑7 cities, the shift from 40% to 18% in affordable launches, and rental yield figures—are drawn from recent market reports and professional analyses, including conversations with real‑estate insiders and publicly available housing data from 2019–2026.

The Spectacle of Waste: When Development Grandeur Masks a Shrinking Economy and a Starved Education System

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The Spectacle of Waste: When Development Grandeur Masks a Shrinking Economy and a Starved Education System

In a country where net foreign direct investment (FDI) is plummeting, should crores of rupees be splurged on the inauguration of a single international airport? The question is not rhetorical—it is an audit of priorities. Yet, when the Bhogapuram International Airport in Andhra Pradesh was inaugurated with a lavish ceremony, the government did not disclose the expenditure. The media did not ask. Meanwhile, in the Rajya Sabha, the same government revealed that net FDI for 2025-26 hovers around a mere 6 billion dollars. In 2022-23, India’s net FDI stood at 27.99 billion dollars. By 2024-25, it had slumped to less than one billion dollars—a staggering 97 percent decline. But the grand spectacle of the inauguration would have us believe that India is swimming in so much wealth that it must be burned in such pageantry.

The Grand Illusion of the Bhogapuram Airport Inauguration

For Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s event in Andhra Pradesh, thousands of schoolgirls were assembled like a crowd, made to perform a traditional tribal dance, Timsa, to create a Guinness World Record. The ostensible celebration of cultural heritage came at a steep price—one the government has refused to quantify. Over 13,500 students in pink-and-green attire were organized into 433 groups, ferried in 3,000 buses, and made to rehearse endlessly. They waited for hours before the Prime Minister’s convoy passed. But what were the real costs? Was even a token amount paid to these girls? In 2023, Assam’s Bihu record event paid each participant Rs 25,000. That was announced proudly. Here, silence.

The expenditure did not end there. Before the main event, a practice session for 5,000 students was held in the presence of Andhra Pradesh’s Special Chief Secretary M.T. Krishna Babu and Collector Ram Sundar Reddy. That, too, cost money. No accounts were shared. The entire exercise was designed to cushion the political image of a leader at a time when young Indians are on the streets, under lathis, demanding a credible examination system and accountability from the Education Minister.

Guinness Record Mania: At What Cost?

The Guinness Book of World Records is a for-profit private company. To get a record certified, you pay a fee, invite their team, and stage the attempt. India’s government has become a repeat customer. For the Bihu record in Assam, the government later admitted through an RTI that it paid Rs 1.6 crore to Guinness. For the Jhumur dance of 8,888 tea garden workers in Guwahati in February 2025, similar costs were incurred. In Bhogapuram, the expenditure is still hidden. The Prime Minister’s YouTube channel shows a sanitized video—a van gliding past dancers, no public in sight, but party flags of BJP, TDP, and Jana Sena Party parked prominently on the vehicle. The Ashoka Stambha, which should be at the centre, was pushed to the side. State funds paid for a political brand-melding exercise.

The Guinness fixation extends even to ‘Pariksha Pe Charcha’, where 3.53 crore registrations in a month were declared a world record. In a nation where an exam cannot be conducted without paper leaks and protests, the government chases a certification for collecting the most registrations—most of them likely from schools coerced into mass sign-ups. How much was paid to Guinness for that? That money could have funded scholarships for thousands of students. Instead, it was handed to a private entity in exchange for a certificate.

Education: The Sacrificial Lamb

While crores are poured into political mega-events, India’s education budget has been gutted. In 2013-14, education spending was 4.6% of the total budget. By 2025-26, it has fallen to just 2.5%. Over the past decade, more than 93,000 schools have been shut down or merged, and a shocking 2.25 crore children have dropped out. Yet the government finds no money to keep these children in classrooms. But it finds limitless resources to dress up students in coordinated costumes and parade them for a record that the Guinness company profits from.

Empty Airports and Vaporous Promises

The pattern goes beyond dance records. India has opened airports that remain dormant. Khajuraho’s airport recently received a top consumer satisfaction ranking. In July, that airport did not witness a single commercial flight—not one take-off or landing. It was a phantom award for a phantom facility.

The Kushinagar International Airport was inaugurated with great fanfare in October 2021, ahead of the Uttar Pradesh elections. The project cost Rs 327 crore. Yet, since November 2023, the airport has been shut down. Ashok Upadhyay, through an RTI, revealed that maintenance costs of crores continue even when the airport is dead. Airports are built not where demand exists, but where electoral cycles demand a visual of progress. A real hospital or a functional college would serve the public, but that doesn't make for a photo-op with a Boeing in the background.

The Plunge of Net FDI: A Table of Decline

Financial Year	Net FDI (in billion USD)
2022-23	27.99
2024-25	Less than 1
2025-26 (early estimate)	Approx. 6

*Source: Rajya Sabha reply, government data. The 97% drop between 2022-23 and 2024-25 reflects not a global trend but a crisis of investor confidence.

Aesthetics of Power: How Spectacle Replaces Accountability

The political theorist Walter Benjamin wrote about the “aestheticization of politics”—turning governance into a grand, beautiful spectacle so that citizens, mesmerized, forget their own miseries. Fascism, he noted, thrives on such pageantry. When thousands gather and millions watch on screens, they see not their own poverty and despair but a larger-than-life projection of the leader. The event becomes a ritual in which the public, instead of being questioning citizens, become an audience to a grand show. Ram Mandir consecrations, massive Yoga Day extravaganzas, G20 summits in every corner, and record-dance assemblies all serve one purpose: to shift focus from crumbling schools, unaffordable healthcare, and jobless growth towards an intoxicating visual of national glory.

The government’s reply to every crisis is another record, another inauguration, another flood of official photographs. But the numbers tell the real story: FDI collapsing, children out of school, airports shut after a single political season. The “vikas” narrative is sustained not by material change but by sensory overload. The van moves slowly, the dancers move in sync, the cameras capture it all, and the public is told they are witnessing history. But history does not fill empty stomachs or reopened schools.

What the Public Is Not Told

The lack of transparency is deliberate. In Delhi, the BJP promised Rs 2,500 per month to women under the Mahila Samridhi Yojana. But the scheme came with a maze of conditions: a dedicated Program Management Unit, verification by district officers, a monitoring committee, a grievance redressal committee, exclusion for families with three children, for those consuming more than 2,400 units of electricity, and for households earning over Rs 2.5 lakh annually. So the woman struggling to make ends meet must navigate an obstacle course for a promise that was sold as a simple guarantee. Meanwhile, the same government spends unknown crores on one Prime Ministerial event after another, without a single question answered.

Criticisms

• Public funds were burned on a lavish airport inauguration while the country’s net FDI registered a historic collapse.
• Thousands of schoolgirls were forcibly assembled and made to practise for weeks, sacrificing their education to create a photo-op and a private Guinness record.
• Party flags were displayed on a state-funded vehicle during an official event, violating the neutrality of public expenditure.
• No accounts of the Bhogapuram event expenditure were provided to the public or the media.
• The education budget was systematically gutted, from 4.6% to 2.5% of the total budget, while colossal sums were diverted to cultural spectacles.
• More than 93,000 schools were closed or merged, and 2.25 crore children dropped out in a decade, but crores were spent on dance records.
• Crores of rupees were paid to the Guinness Book of World Records—a private for-profit company—for certifications that brought zero developmental value.
• Airports were inaugurated in Kushinagar and Khajuraho at enormous cost, then abandoned, with maintenance costs still draining the exchequer.
• The media’s failure to question the expenditure on these events was exploited to perpetuate the spectacle without accountability.
• A culture of political aestheticization was engineered, where grand ceremonies replaced genuine governance, and citizens were reduced to spectators of their own marginalization.
• The Prime Minister’s official YouTube channel was used to airbrush reality—showing a sanitized event devoid of the public, while the political branding was carefully staged.
• Repeated Guinness records were pursued using government machinery, while basic services like healthcare and education remained starved of funds.
• The state’s complicity in converting tribal and folk traditions into mass choreographed performances drained their cultural essence for political optics.
• Instead of addressing youth demands for a fair examination system, the regime spent public money on a “Pariksha Pe Charcha” registration record, mocking student struggles.

This is not governance. This is a carefully constructed theatre where the audience is supposed to clap while their own resources are incinerated. The question must not be what record was broken, but why the public is never allowed to see the bill. Because once the bill is seen, the illusion of development shatters, and what remains is a painful audit of priorities—one where a crores-strong dance ensemble mattered more than a single functional school.

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The 2027 Investment Playbook: Protect First, Then Prosper

In June 2026, Indians poured over ₹31,700 crore into mutual fund Systematic Investment Plans (SIPs) — the single largest monthly inflow in the country’s history. It is a staggering number, a testament to a generation finally warming up to the discipline of regular investing. On one hand, this signals a collective optimism: we are investing as if the future is nothing but bright, our pockets seemingly bottomless. Yet, in that very same month, another statistic quietly emerged, and it paints a very different picture. Life insurance penetration in India fell to a mere 2.7% of GDP. The global average is 7.3%. In other words, we are protecting ourselves as if it were still 1990, while simultaneously betting on the equity markets like seasoned players. This contradiction is not just ironic; it is financially dangerous.

In this post, I want to share a clear, actionable investment approach for 2027. But every such conversation must begin where it truly matters: before you invest a single rupee, you must protect what you already have. A warrior does not charge into battle without armour. Yet, time and again, I see young earners captivated by market returns while completely ignoring the possibility of a hospital bill or an untimely death wiping out years of savings in days. So, let us first understand the landscape of 2027, then build a plan that safeguards your family before growing your wealth.

The Investment Terrain of 2027: What’s Changed?

The financial environment of 2026-2027 is markedly different from the years that preceded it. To understand why, we need to look at three key pillars: interest rates, market valuations, and tax reforms.

The Reserve Bank of India’s repo rate, which sets the baseline for all lending and deposit rates in the economy, stands at approximately 5.25%. For savers, this translates to fixed deposit rates topping out around 6.5% to 7% for longer tenures. The Public Provident Fund (PPF) is offering 7.1%, and the Employees’ Provident Fund (EPF) a healthier 8.25%. On paper, these look decent, but they haven’t been increased in several quarters. Meanwhile, inflation, as measured by the Consumer Price Index, hovers around 6% to 6.5%. However, if you factor in lifestyle inflation — the real inflation we feel in our daily lives because we are spending more on education, dining out, travel, and aspirational purchases — that number comfortably crosses 8% to 10%. After accounting for taxes, none of these “safe” fixed-return instruments can truly beat inflation. They are excellent for capital preservation, but your wealth will not meaningfully grow in them.

Now turn to equities. The Nifty 50 is trading at a price-to-earnings (PE) multiple of around 20.8. That is neither cheap nor expensive; it is somewhere in the middle. Returns over the last 12 to 18 months have been largely flat or even negative. India, one of the world’s major economies, has seen its equity performance stagnate while other markets surged. Dig deeper into mid-cap and small-cap indices, and the picture gets uncomfortable. These segments are hovering at PE ratios of 32 to 33, making them not just slightly but very expensive. In the short term, nobody can predict their trajectory. Over the long term, they tend to balance out, but for someone building a one-year investment plan or starting fresh today, caution is warranted.

Gold, the eternal refuge, had a dream run in 2025, climbing 70-80%. Then came a sharp 25% correction. Many who bought at the peak, driven by herd mentality, are now sitting on losses. With geopolitical tensions simmering globally, gold may continue to accrue value as a holding asset, but its short-term path is volatile. Historically, gold has delivered an annualised return of 10-12% over long periods. Sovereign Gold Bonds (SGBs), once my favourite way to hold gold, are no longer being issued. Gold ETFs are a practical alternative, though some investors worry about counterparty risks and lack of physical backing. Digital gold is convenient but often comes with higher costs. Physical gold, while tangible, brings storage and security headaches.

Real estate is the elephant in the room. The ticket size is prohibitively large; a decent down payment in a metro city often starts at ₹50 lakh, and a crore feels like spare change. Residential rental yields languish at a pathetic 2-3% per annum of the property’s value. Commercial real estate fares better at 4-6%, sometimes more, but the entry barrier is even higher. Real Estate Investment Trusts (REITs) offer a path to participate, but their returns are not spectacular. Cryptocurrencies, particularly Bitcoin, have witnessed a massive correction in the last year, shaking confidence. For the highly risk-tolerant, a small allocation of no more than 5% of the portfolio might be considered, but it remains a wild card.

Then came the biggest policy shift: the Finance Minister’s revision of income tax slabs. With no tax payable on incomes up to ₹12.75 lakh under the new regime, the incentive to buy tax-saving instruments has vanished. People who once purchased insurance policies solely to claim deductions under Section 80C have stopped. For years, protection was a by-product of tax planning. Now, the crutch is gone, forcing us to ask: if not for tax, then why insurance? The answer, of course, is survival.

Why Protection Must Precede Investment

Let me illustrate with a simple example. Suppose you invest ₹5,000 every month through a SIP. Over a year, you accumulate ₹60,000. At a generous 12% return, that might grow to ₹63,000. Now imagine a health emergency — a family member hospitalised in a big city like Delhi, Mumbai, or Bangalore. A single night’s stay can cost ₹15,000-20,000. Two or three nights, plus tests and post-hospitalisation expenses, and suddenly you are staring at a bill of one to two lakh rupees. Your entire year’s disciplined savings vanishes in two days. This is not hyperbole; it is the reality of modern healthcare costs.

If the affected person is the sole earning member, the financial devastation multiplies. Not only does the family lose a loved one’s presence, but they also face a brutal gap in income. How will they pay the home loan, the car loan, the children’s school fees, or the business overheads? It is a terrifying scenario, and here is the hard truth: life is entirely unpredictable. Most of us believe that tragedies happen to others, not to us. That illusion shatters only when it is too late. A 30-year-old non-smoker can buy a pure term insurance cover of ₹1 crore for less than ₹1,000 a month. That is a fraction of what you might be splurging on a weekend dinner. And yet, less than 3% of our GDP goes towards life insurance, while we chase 12% equity returns with single-minded obsession. The government recognises this gap, which is why GST has been removed from term and health insurance premiums. The state is literally telling you: this is a national priority, not a tax-saving gimmick.

When you seek protection, avoid the trap of buying insurance as an investment product. Unit-linked plans or endowment policies mix protection and savings, but they underperform on both counts. A pure term plan gives you the highest coverage at the lowest cost. To find the best plan for your needs, you can consult platforms that offer unbiased advice without spamming you with relentless calls. One such example is Ditto Insurance, which I have personally used and found to be a reliable partner. They help cut through the noise, recommend plans tailored to your situation, and do not push products. The point is simple: until a proper shield is in place, every rupee you invest is exposed to an avoidable risk.

A Step-by-Step Investment Plan for 2027 (Based on Income Levels)

With protection as the foundation, let us construct an investment approach that adapts to your income. The core principles remain the same: build an emergency fund, secure term life and health insurance, then deploy surplus into equities with a systematic, long-term mindset. I will outline three scenarios — monthly salaries of ₹25,000, ₹50,000, and ₹1,00,000 — and then scale it up for higher earners. All calculations assume a 5% annual step-up in SIP contributions and a 30-year investment horizon unless stated otherwise.

For a Monthly Salary of ₹25,000

Step 1: Emergency Fund. Your first goal is to accumulate an emergency reserve covering at least six months of expenses. Assuming monthly expenses of around ₹20,000, you need ₹1,20,000. Park this money in a liquid mutual fund through a SIP. Liquid funds offer safety, easy redemption (money reaches your account within 24 hours), and no exit load penalties.

Step 2: Protection. Since your family depends on your income, a term life cover of ₹25-50 lakh is non-negotiable. This will cost roughly ₹300-500 per month. Health insurance of ₹5 lakh for yourself will add another ₹500-700. Round that off to ₹1,000 per month for comprehensive peace of mind.

Step 3: Equity SIP. After funding your emergency kit and insurance premiums, whatever remains — say ₹2,000-3,000 — goes into a diversified equity mutual fund. A Nifty 50 index fund is an excellent starting point. At a 12% long-term return, if you invest ₹2,000 monthly and increase it by 5% each year, after 30 years you will accumulate approximately ₹44 lakh. Without the step-up, you would end with only ₹26 lakh. That single act of raising your contribution by just 5% yearly adds an extra ₹18 lakh.

For a Monthly Salary of ₹50,000

Step 1: Emergency Fund. With higher income comes higher fixed and lifestyle expenses. Aim for a six-month buffer, which may amount to ₹2.5-3 lakh. SIP into a liquid fund until it is built, then you can redirect that flow.

Step 2: Protection. A term cover of ₹1 crore is advisable, costing roughly ₹800-1,000 per month. Health insurance of ₹10 lakh, plus a top-up cover if desired, will run ₹1,000-2,000 per month. Keep in mind: even if your employer offers group insurance, always maintain a personal policy. Corporate covers lapse the day you leave the job, and with today’s job-hopping culture, you don’t want a gap in protection.

Step 3: Equity SIP. After covering essentials, you should aim to invest ₹6,000-8,000 per month. Split this between a Nifty 50 index fund (60%) and a flexi-cap fund (40%), which can deliver a blended return of around 13.5% over the long term. If you start with ₹8,000, increase it by 5% annually, and let it compound for 30 years, the corpus could swell to ₹4.88 crore. That is the magic of consistency and compounding. Optionally, if ₹1,000-2,000 remain, consider a gold ETF for diversification and risk mitigation.

For a Monthly Salary of ₹1,00,000

At this income level, you are now paying taxes under the new regime, with a take-home of approximately ₹75,000-85,000.

Step 1: Emergency Fund. A minimum of six months’ expenses, which could be ₹4-5 lakh, parked in liquid funds.

Step 2: Protection. A term cover of ₹1-2 crore (cost: ₹800-1,500 per month). Health insurance of ₹10 lakh base plus a super top-up of ₹15-25 lakh (total cost ₹2,000-3,000 per month). Your protection expenses may total ₹3,000-5,000 monthly. Again, do not rely on employer coverage alone.

Step 3: Equity SIP. You should target investing ₹15,000-18,000 per month. Allocate 60% to a Nifty 50 index fund, 30% to a flexi-cap fund, and 10% to a mid-cap or small-cap fund. With a long-term blended return of 15%, starting at ₹18,000 and stepping up 5% annually, after 30 years you will have approximately ₹14.45 crore. Add a 5-10% allocation to gold (ETF or digital gold) for stability, and consider real estate only if it aligns with your financial capacity.

For a Monthly Salary of ₹2,00,000

At this point, you are paying a significant chunk in taxes, and your take-home is around ₹1.5 lakh to ₹1.7 lakh. Your lifestyle has expanded, and so must your safety nets.

Step 1: Emergency Fund. Aim for nine months’ worth or an absolute amount of ₹6-8 lakh. This cushion should be held in liquid mutual funds, started through a dedicated SIP.

Step 2: Protection. A term cover of ₹2-5 crore, costing roughly ₹2,000-4,000 per month. Health insurance of ₹25-50 lakh, which may cost another ₹3,000-5,000 per month. Total protection spend: ₹5,000-9,000 per month. This is a small price for the income replacement and expense coverage it provides.

Step 3: Equity SIP. With a healthy disposable surplus, you should invest ₹40,000-50,000 monthly. Allocation: 50-60% Nifty 50, 30% flexi-cap, and 10-20% mid/small-cap. If you start at ₹50,000, step up by 5% annually, and earn a 15% annualised return, your portfolio after 30 years could reach an astonishing ₹40 crore and 8 lakh plus. Yes, ₹40 crore from a starting point of ₹50,000 a month. The numbers are not magic; they are mathematics, powered by the fact that you started early, protected your downside, and let time do the heavy lifting.

Three Deadly Mistakes to Avoid in 2027

Even the best plans can be sabotaged by a few common but avoidable errors. I see them repeated year after year, so let me address them head-on.

Mistake 1: Chasing Last Year’s Winners. In 2025, gold shot up 70-80%. Everyone and their neighbour rushed to buy, convinced that the rally would continue forever. In 2026, gold corrected by 25%, and those latecomers are now nursing losses. The same story plays out with hot stocks — be it an NVIDIA or a trending small-cap. Buying high out of FOMO is a recipe for regret. We are not market experts who can time entry and exit points, which is precisely why mutual funds exist. Professional fund managers track stocks 24/7; our only job is to earn, save, and invest regularly. Do not chase the herd. Stick to your asset allocation and let the SIP machinery work without emotional interference.

Mistake 2: Stopping SIPs When Markets Fall. This is a cardinal sin. When markets decline, your SIP buys more units for the same amount of money. Over time, this cost averaging is exactly what generates superior long-term returns. Halting your SIP during a downturn means you miss the opportunity to accumulate at lower prices, and you lock in the pain when the market eventually recovers. There is a reason SIPs are called Systematic: they thrive on discipline, not on market euphoria. No matter how red your portfolio looks, keep the SIP running. Your future self will thank you.

Mistake 3: Postponing Protection. When we are in our twenties, we feel invincible. Hospitalisation? That happens to older people. Death? A distant thought. But youth does not make you immune to accidents, lifestyle diseases, or sudden calamities. A single hospital bill can wipe out years of savings and push you into debt. And if you are the family’s breadwinner, dying without life insurance leaves your loved ones in a financial void that no asset can quickly fill. The cost of term insurance is lowest when you are young and healthy. Delaying it only increases the premium and the risk of becoming uninsurable due to a health condition that develops later. Protect today. Grow tomorrow.

Conclusion: Your 2027 Action Plan in a Nutshell

The journey to financial freedom is not about finding the next multibagger or timing the market perfectly. It is about a simple, repeatable framework that you can execute without stress. Here is a summary of what you need to do, distilled into actionable steps:

• Build an emergency fund covering 6-9 months of expenses, held in liquid mutual funds for quick access.
• Buy adequate term life insurance: a pure protection cover of at least 10-15 times your annual income, preferably up to ₹2-5 crore depending on your life stage.
• Secure comprehensive health insurance for yourself and your family, separate from your employer’s group policy, with a base cover of ₹10-25 lakh and a super top-up.
• Start an equity SIP as early as possible. For most people, a combination of a Nifty 50 index fund (50-60%), a flexi-cap fund (30%), and a small portion in mid/small-cap funds (10-20%) works beautifully.
• Increase your SIP amount by at least 5% every year. This simple “step-up” habit can add crores to your final corpus.
• Allocate a small portion (5-10%) to gold via ETFs or digital gold to diversify and cushion market volatility.
• Never chase recent fads or stop your SIP when markets tumble. Consistency beats intelligence over the long run.
• Treat protection not as an optional tax-saving tool, but as the non-negotiable foundation of your financial life.

References and Citations

• Monthly SIP inflow data sourced from Association of Mutual Funds in India (AMFI) reports, June 2026.
• Life insurance penetration figures from the IRDAI Annual Report 2025-26 and Swiss Re Sigma World Insurance Report.
• Repo rate, PPF, and EPF interest rates as per Reserve Bank of India and Ministry of Finance notifications, Q1 2026.
• Price-to-earnings ratios and market performance data from National Stock Exchange (NSE) and BSE indices.
• Historical gold returns and SGB status from Reserve Bank of India press releases and World Gold Council data.
• Income tax slab revisions under the new tax regime from the Union Budget 2025-26, Ministry of Finance.
• Insurance premium GST exemption for term and health policies from CBIC circular, 2025.

The numbers are there. The plan is there. The only missing piece is your commitment. The best time to invest was yesterday. The next best time is today. And the best time to protect yourself was the day you started earning. If you have not done either, start now. The wave of financial participation in this country is rising, and I want to see you riding it, not drowning in its undercurrents. Let 2027 be the year you get the basics right, because a secure future is not a luxury — it is a deliberate choice.

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The Paper Leak Epidemic: Jharkhand's Unending Agony and India's Broken Exam System

On 28 January 2024, the Jharkhand Public Service Commission (JPSC) was set to conduct its examination. Three hours before the third shift, the General Studies paper for 50% of the candidates was abruptly cancelled. That exam was later re-conducted, but doubts never vanished. In December 2025, results were announced, and within days, successful candidates were issued joining letters. Yet, the embers of protest were already glowing. The anger of the youth, simmering since that hurried joining in late 2025, exploded when the results of the 14th JPSC examination were declared on 2 July. Within 48 hours, allegations of massive irregularities spread, and students took to the streets demanding that not only the latest results but all appointments stemming from the January 2024 exam be scrapped.

The agitation in Jharkhand is not a sudden outburst. It is the logical culmination of a system where merit has been replaced by money, fairness by fraud. And the response of the government — led by Hemant Soren — reveals a deep disconnect between those who rule and those who dream.

The Chronology of Betrayal

On 28 January 2024, the paper was cancelled because of a leak. The re-test was ordered, but questions about its integrity surfaced immediately. Despite this, results were declared in December 2025, and candidates were appointed. Students say that even before the ink dried on their joining letters, they had evidence of foul play. When the 14th JPSC result came on 2 July, OMR sheets of several candidates were leaked online. The data showed that candidates with lower scores had secured jobs while deserving ones were shut out. The demand swelled: cancel the 11th, 13th, and 14th JPSC examinations, and conduct a fresh, fair process.

The government took notice only after the protests grew. A high-level committee was formed, but the students refused to meet behind closed doors. “We will not talk in a closed room,” they declared. “The government must come to us, in the open, with the media present.” This stance mirrors the Jantar Mantar protests of NEET-UG aspirants, where the central government refused to face students publicly. The bargaining power of the youth now hinges on this public confrontation — a strategy that underscores the deep trust deficit.

The Demands: Cancel, Investigate, Rebuild

The students’ charter is clear:

• Cancel the results of the 11th, 13th, and 14th JPSC examinations.
• Annul all appointments made from the December 2025 result.
• Conduct an independent, transparent investigation into the entire examination process.
• Ensure that the probe extends to the assets of all officials linked to the JPSC, Jharkhand Staff Selection Commission (JSSC), and the private agency TDPL that has been repeatedly accused of irregularities.

To understand why these demands are not excessive but urgent, one must look at the history of competitive examinations in Jharkhand. Since the state was carved out of Bihar in 2000, there has not been a single JPSC or JSSC examination that has not been mired in allegations of cheating. Not one. The system is so deeply corrupted that a clean recruitment drive seems an impossibility.

The Government’s Response: Too Little, Too Late

When the protests escalated, the Hemant Soren government sent SDMs and ADMs to the protest site, offering a five-member team to meet at the Chief Minister’s residence. But the students refused. They insisted on an open dialogue. The government eventually formed a committee, but the youth remain unconvinced. Their fear is legitimate: closed-door negotiations can easily turn into a whitewash.

Hemant Soren has claimed that the state’s CID has acted swiftly — 18 people arrested, documents seized, and key conspirators identified. He believes this should restore trust. But the students have ample reason to doubt. The CID is a state agency, and in Jharkhand, political interference in investigations is an open secret. Moreover, the central agencies that might have offered hope — the CBI and the ED — have their own credibility crises. The CBI’s conviction rate in paper leak cases is abysmal; the ED’s selective targeting of opposition leaders has made it a political weapon, not an impartial arbiter.

The Vyapam Precedent and the Supreme Court’s Sword

The students’ demand for cancellation finds strong legal backing. In the Vyapam scam in Madhya Pradesh, the Supreme Court cancelled the degrees of over 600 medical students who had reached the final year of their MBBS. Admissions taken, exams passed over several years — everything was declared void because the foundation was fraudulent. If the apex court could do that, why can’t the Jharkhand government annul appointments based on demonstrably tainted examinations? The answer lies in political will, not legal hurdle.

The irony is that the Jharkhand High Court, in an unrelated case, had strongly indicted the ED for arresting Hemant Soren without solid grounds. The ED lost that case in the Supreme Court too. Yet the same Hemant Soren, when faced with student anger, has not shown the same resolve to uproot the examination mafia that his own government’s agencies are supposed to control.

A Nationwide Cancer: The Paper Leak Industry

The Jharkhand agitation cannot be viewed in isolation. India is witnessing a terrifying surge in examination frauds. A PTI report reveals that the CBI has over 150 cases related to recruitment exam irregularities — investigations are complete in most, but trials have not even begun. Some cases are 20 years old. The CBI is now trying to move these to fast-track courts, but the damage is already done. The faith of the young has been crushed.

The 2024 NEET-UG paper leak case is a glaring example. The main accused, Sanjeev Mukhiya, was discharged by a court because the CBI found no evidence against him. The ED, which arrested Hemant Soren in a money-laundering case, was itself pulled up by the Supreme Court for frivolous arrests of opposition leaders. The investigating agencies that students are supposed to rely upon are either handcuffed or complicit. In such a scenario, the demand for an independent probe becomes a cry into the void.

The Anatomy of a Cheating Cartel

The CID’s raids have thrown up chilling details. In Jharkhand, post-dated cheques worth Rs 6 crore were recovered from the houses of Lalu Yadav and Pradeep Yadav of Hazaribagh. These cheques were signed by different individuals — likely candidates or their relatives — revealing a pay-after-success racket. The CID also found admit cards of constable recruitment exams and carbon copies of candidates’ OMR sheets at the residence of Santosh Kumar Singh in Palamu. The suspicion is that candidates who could not pay cash were forced to part with land documents as collateral.

The private firm TDPL is at the heart of this network. Blacklisted by the Jharkhand Staff Selection Commission in May 2025, the company was re-engaged to conduct examinations. That re-appointment itself stinks of a deep nexus. The case of Abhay Tiwari is even more instructive. The CID claims that Tiwari, between 2013 and 2024, passed over 12 competitive examinations, including those of Jharkhand and the Centre. In every exam where Tiwari succeeded, TDPL was involved in some capacity. That is not coincidence; it is a meticulously managed, exam-clearing formula for sale.

A similar pattern emerged in the NEET-UG case. Dinesh Binwal, his brother Mangilal Binwal, and Mangilal’s son Vikas were arrested. Of the five arrested by the CBI, three belonged to the same family — a family whose five children had cleared NEET-UG in the previous year. Rajasthan Congress chief Govind Singh Dotasra had tweeted the names and asked uncomfortable questions about where these children were studying. The answers are still buried.

The Political Calculus and the Media’s Silence

On the protest stage at Jantar Mantar, several political parties sent leaders, but the ruling BJP in Jharkhand exerted no real pressure on the state government. Union Minister Dharmendra Pradhan never once engaged with NEET aspirants. The NTA chief, despite the paper leak, did not resign; he did not even accept moral responsibility. In contrast, the JPSC Chairman, E. Khizangte, stepped down on 22 July after CID raids at his home and office. That resignation, however, is little solace to students who have lost years of their lives.

The students in Jharkhand have displayed remarkable discipline. They have consciously kept political, religious, and caste symbols off the stage. They have banned personal attacks on individuals and maintained a sharp focus on systemic reform. This is a movement led by young people who understand that their power lies in their unity, not in the patronage of any party.

Data Points: The Scale of Contamination

Aspect	Detail
Exams passed by Abhay Tiwari (2013-2024)	More than 12 (state and central)
Post-dated cheques recovered	Rs 6 crore (number of cheques undisclosed)
CBI cases on recruitment fraud	150+ (investigations complete, trials pending)
Oldest pending CBI paper leak case	20 years
NEET UG 2024 arrested family members	3 out of 5 accused from one family; 5 family children passed NEET
JPSC examinations since state formation without corruption charges	None

The Road Ahead: A Republic Without Fair Exams?

Every country’s examination system carries a certain prestige. India’s used to. Today, it is a market. The youth are not just protesting a leak; they are questioning the very legitimacy of a state that cannot hold a single honest test. The Jharkhand government must accept that no closed-door committee will placate the anger. The central government must ensure that the CBI is empowered to deliver swift justice, not just file chargesheets. The political class must understand that using agencies like the ED to harass opponents while ignoring exam mafias is a recipe for social explosion.

The students have said it plainly: “We do not care about any party. Come and support us, understand our pain.” Their agony is not partisan. It is the agony of a nation that has told its young: work hard, and you will rise. But when the results come, the seats are already sold. The paper has leaked, and so has the dream.

Criticisms

• A transparent dialogue with protesting students in an open forum is consistently avoided by the government.
• The moral responsibility of resigning upon witnessing a paper leak is not accepted by senior bureaucratic officials in central agencies.
• Blacklisted private firms are re-hired for conducting competitive examinations, with no explanation provided.
• The ED is utilized as a political instrument to target opposition leaders rather than as an impartial investigative body.
• Fast-track trials in paper leak cases are not completed, and delay in justice is perpetuated.
• The credibility of the CBI is eroded by repeated failure to secure convictions in recruitment fraud cases.
• The Hemant Soren government in Jharkhand is allowed to project the CID’s actions as sufficient while systemic rot remains unaddressed.
• The network of post-dated cheques and land documents as collateral is not investigated with the urgency it demands.
• Political parties are observed to treat student movements as vote banks rather than engaging with the core issue of examination integrity.
• The NTA’s flawed examination processes are not overhauled despite repeated national-level leaks.
• A uniform national law to punish exam cheating with stringent action is not enacted by Parliament.