Hindutva Hypocrisy and the Curious Case of India’s Selective Outrage

 

Hindutva Hypocrisy and the Curious Case of India’s Selective Outrage

Ah, India, the land of ancient wisdom, rich heritage, and… selective outrage. While Adani’s financial escapades make for juicy headlines, the real problem isn’t just the alleged trillion-dollar gymnastics performed by his balance sheets; it’s the brainwashing factory that has mass-produced Hindutva-brand blinders for millions. Thanks to the BJP, a party that markets itself better than an Apple product launch, Indians are abandoning their complex, diverse cultural identities for a shiny new badge called "Hindu," as if it's the latest designer label.

Remember when it was called Sanatana Dharma? A timeless philosophy rooted in tolerance and spiritual depth, embodying the plurality of ideas and paths to enlightenment. Now? It’s been rebranded and weaponized, turned into a political battering ram with all the subtlety of a bull in a China shop. The Hindutva narrative isn’t just a religious makeover; it’s a corporate logo stamped onto centuries of rich tradition, custom-fitted for election sloganeering. Some BJP loyalists have even adopted "Hindu" as their surname as if subscribing to a premium service that comes with exclusive rights to moral and cultural superiority.

And then there’s the real love story: Modi and Adani, the dynamic duo who’ve perfected the art of mutual back-scratching. Adani bankrolls BJP campaigns with his alleged financial sleight-of-hand, and in return, Modi ensures that pesky investigations magically disappear. It’s the stuff of corporate rom-coms, except it’s India footing the bill. Adani isn’t just accused of financial crimes in India—his exploits have raised eyebrows (and lawsuits) across the globe. Yet, within India’s saffron bubble, he’s a misunderstood hero, unfairly targeted by the “anti-national” crowd. The same crowd, incidentally, that dares to ask inconvenient questions about why public money often seems to flow into private pockets.

But the real tragedy isn’t Adani or Modi. It’s the millions of Indians who’ve swallowed the Hindutva Kool-Aid so thoroughly that they can no longer see the crimes being committed against them. Any criticism of Modi, Adani, or Hindutva ideology is met with instant outrage—especially if it comes from an NRI. Never mind that NRIs contribute billions to the Indian economy, fill stadiums around the world cheering for India, and act as ambassadors of Indian culture. Apparently, we’re good enough to send money and cheer from afar, but not good enough to have an opinion.

Take cricket, for example, the sport that unites India—until it doesn’t. An Indian Muslim supporting Pakistan in a match is suddenly a national crisis. Why? Because Hindutva’s poison has turned a game into a proxy war. Meanwhile, Indians take pride in banning Pakistani players from the IPL, as if that somehow proves their loyalty. The hypocrisy is stunning. Want to be a global leader? Start by embracing the basic principles of sportsmanship instead of turning every match into a political battleground.

And justice? That’s a punchline at best. India’s bureaucracy, riddled with corruption and cowardice, is too busy kowtowing to power to hold anyone accountable. The judiciary fares no better, with verdicts often favoring the rich and powerful while the common citizen waits decades for resolution. If India actually delivered justice on time, the courts would be overrun with politicians and industrialists serving time for their exploits. At this point, returning to Panchayat Raj might be an upgrade. Mob justice, which already thrives in parts of India, would simply be formalized. At least it would be faster.

Or perhaps it’s time to let technology take the reins. Imagine AI judges: impartial, incorruptible, and uninterested in whose cousin’s uncle owns which company. A system that applies laws with logic and precision, free from the influence of money or power. Of course, such a suggestion would probably offend the very people who claim to love progress but can’t bear the thought of their flaws being exposed. The truth hurts, after all.

India’s problems aren’t just about Adani, Modi, or even the BJP. They’re about a collective unwillingness to look in the mirror. Hindutva has provided a convenient excuse to overlook corruption, stifle dissent, and replace reason with rhetoric. But pretending these problems don’t exist won’t make them disappear. It’ll only make them worse. India deserves better—better leaders, better governance, and better self-awareness. Until then, the tragicomedy continues, with Hindutva playing the lead role and the rest of the country left to applaud—or suffer.