Some things to Reconsider

 Modi brand rests on two pillars. First, every public figure of consequence is expected to praise him with near-religious devotion, as though he were a deity rather than a political leader. Second, there is never any acknowledgment of failure. If something goes wrong, it is explained away as natural, inevitable, or simply beyond anyone’s control. To justify this supposed inevitability, billionaires and power-brokers step forward to present “facts” that are often as distant from reality as the Earth is from the Moon. The delightful spectacle of Niranjan Hiranandani, the venerable real estate magnate—and chief competitor to the Adani empire, no less—showering the Prime Minister with the kind of beatific praise. This, coming not long after the entire nation watched a political drama unfold, where an opposition MP, Mahua Moitra, faced the judicial axe over allegations of taking favours from this very same gentleman. The man survives the scandal, thrives, and then publicly kisses the ...

During his recent visit to Gaza, Jared Kushner — Donald Trump’s ever-serene son-in-law and self-appointed statesman — was asked on television what he had seen there. His reply: “It looks like a nuclear bomb was dropped.” When pressed further — “Was this genocide?” — Kushner, a man more comfortable dealing in property than in pity, said “No.” Buildings turned to ash, hospitals to craters, hunger to strategy. But unlike Afghanistan in 1979, the “Muslim world” did not erupt. No calls for jihad, no volunteers crossing borders, no princes emptying treasuries. Where, one might ask, are the new Mujahedeen? To find them, we must go back to that bitter winter of 1979, when the Soviet Union marched into Afghanistan. The Soviets said they came reluctantly, to rescue a collapsing ally. But once Soviet boots touched Afghan soil, a guerrilla army sprouted almost overnight — the Mujahedeen , “fighters of Islam.” They were not Afghans alone. They came from the deserts of Arabia, the plains of Egy...

Come October, India enters what I call the “Republic of Outrage.” The so-called festival season now comes with its own ritual choreography — not of lights, but of hashtags. First, the annual denunciation of Gandhi: a flurry of posts calling him the “great appeaser,” followed by that curious sect of Godse devotees who believe the man with the pistol was history’s most misunderstood patriot. And then, inevitably, comes the annual symphony on fireworks — the claim that bursting crackers is a time-honoured Hindu tradition. Celebrities, industrialists, and TV anchors join in with missionary zeal. Some sing solo, others harmonise, but they all hum the same tune. From television studios to X (that glorious temple of half-truths), the chorus swells. Sudhir Chaudhary, our national priest of prime-time patriotism, warns solemnly that “banning crackers is an attack on faith.” Former Infosys CFO Mohandas Pai logs on to declare that “pollution isn’t caused by crackers,” and that restrictions are...

Couple of years ago, was have a discussion with Andhbhakt, who firmly believed that Prime Minister Modi was correcting the ills of the past, my position was vehemently opposite. During the argument, my question to this friend was, “what’s the difference between planning commission and NITI aayog.” This was rhetorical question because none of us had a clue, but the response was interesting. “This kind of hair splitting is for JNU kind of debates, not for working mortals like us.” In other words which is the standard belief among the community “Modi ji ne kiya hoga to soch samajh ke he keya hoga.” But I came to see, thanks largely to Eram Agha’s Caravan article and other public sources, that the differences are deep, structural, and troubling. The Planning Commission was born in 1950, just after the Constitution came into effect. It was the product of a consensus among leaders across party lines. President Rajendra Prasad spoke of raising living standards through structured planning...

For years, Indian economists droned the same refrain — too much revenue expenditure, not enough capital expenditure. The government, they said, must stop spending on salaries and start building roads. It’s the fiscal equivalent of being told to eat more protein and less dessert. Under Narendra Modi, the state has gone on a construction binge worthy of the Mughal emperors — ₹54 trillion poured into capital expenditure in just eleven years. In the last three alone, we’ve spent over ₹11 trillion annually. Roads, railways, defence, water projects — you name it. The bulldozers haven’t rested since. So, naturally, one would expect an economic dawn — faster movement of goods, lower logistics costs, more jobs, happier people. A Keynesian dream, in other words: the government spends, demand rises, and the private sector jumps in, inspired and eager. Only, it hasn’t. The animal spirit is not just asleep; it seems comatose. Private capital expenditure — the ultimate litmus test of investo...

 Donald Trump is back doing what he does best — throwing tantrums in prime time and calling it policy. His latest target? India. From parading deported Indian immigrants in chains — yes, actual chains, mid-flight — to snatching credit for ending Operation Sindoor, Trump’s message is simple: “I’m the boss of Vishwaguru.” He’s slapped tariffs on Indian goods, frowned upon Russian oil imports, and hiked H1B visa fees — a direct jab at the Indian tech class. And New Delhi’s response? Silence . The kind that pretends to be strength but smells suspiciously like fear. Spin doctors call it strategic restraint . The rest of us call it waiting for Trump’s next mood swing. When Trump wished Modi on his 75th birthday or extended his velvet glove , BJP’s online cheerleaders pounced on it like a Bollywood twist — “See! Friendship restored!” — until, of course, Trump’s next tweet arrived with his usual thunder. As the American columnist Ashley Tellis politely put it, India’s “extreme discipl...