Some things to Reconsider

 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...

Who would have imagined that in India, the land of Gandhi ji’s simplest ideals, we would be witnessing a growth story so split that it resembles not a straight line rising but a sharply diverging “K”? One arm rockets upward, glittering with corporate gains and luxury whispers, while the other—silent, struggling—slides downward, borne by millions of workers, farmers, women in villages, and small shopkeepers. How ironic: the nation that owes its survival to unity now splinters economically into two disparate realities. It was in this context that political strategist Prashant Kishor, in a recent interview, made a striking remark. He declared his opposition to the Prime Minister’s promise of two new Amrit Bharat trains originating from Bihar. According to him, these trains were not designed to ease the lives of ordinary Biharis but to “facilitate the outward migration of inexpensive labour.” His observation is not merely cynical commentary; it points to a deeper malaise in the way India...

  The government and its cheerleaders are in high spirits again, beating drums for their favourite emperor’s latest “masterstroke.” This time, it’s the modest reduction in GST rates. TV Panels and Tweets buzzing with self-congratulatory chatter. Analysts calling it a historic, and even P. Chidambaram grudgingly called it a “reform”—with the delicious aftertaste of his caveat, “eight years late.” But let us pause. Let us ask the questions that Delhi’s television studios won’t: is tinkering with GST rates a reform? Does lowering a tax slab address the structural bottlenecks that suffocate Indian industry? Or is it another aspirin for a fever whose cause lies deeper in the bones of our political economy? The uncomfortable answer: this is not reform. This is a quick-fix, stitched together to meet political needs in Bihar and to respond to Trump’s tariffs across the ocean. Washington’s second wave of tariffs—punitive and linked to India’s oil flirtations with Russia—landed like a th...

  Not long ago, we lost Surf’s Lalita Ji —Kavita Chaudhary—immortalised by the line, “Surf ki kharidari mein samajhdari hai.” That campaign from the 1980s celebrated intelligence in consumption—an India that sought value, where every rupee had to stretch, forcing manufacturers to sharpen their act. Compare that with today’s Swiggy Uncle , Naresh Gosain sneaking a Gulab Jamun behind his wife’s back. That ad isn’t about thrift at all—it’s about indulgence, instant gratification and premiumisation. Markets, as economists remind us, are giant information-processing machines. They respond to demand. If you take the Lalitaji-to-Swiggy arc as metaphor, our consumption has migrated from careful spend to aspirational spend. Lalitaji’s India wanted efficiency; Swiggy’s India wants convenience and small luxuries. Policy, however, is still struggling to catch up. The Union Budget this year tried to sweeten the middle class with some tax relief. The idea: give people more cash, they’ll spe...