Blind Faith: The National Addiction Nobody Wants to Cure

 Blind Faith: The National Addiction Nobody Wants to Cure

Hindi Version: https://rakeshinsightfulgaze.blogspot.com/2026/05/blog-post_13.html

There’s blindness, and then there’s the far more dangerous condition of being blinded by faith. Blind people have built companies, written books, conquered mountains, mastered music, and inspired entire generations. But people blinded by faith, political or religious, have repeatedly destroyed societies while convincing themselves they were saving them. One group learns to navigate darkness. The other worships it.

Human beings love history, but only the parts that flatter them. We proudly quote freedom fighters, philosophers, reformers, and revolutionaries whenever it helps us sound intellectual on social media. But the moment history exposes the crimes committed by fanatics, mobs, political loyalists, or religious extremists, suddenly everyone becomes uncomfortable. Every ideology has its own laundry department dedicated to washing bloodstains into patriotism. Atrocities become “complicated.” Lies become “sentiments.” Violence becomes “emotion.” Accountability disappears under the sacred protection of blind loyalty.

The truly frightening thing about blind faith is that facts become completely useless against it. Evidence means nothing. Logic becomes offensive. A person consumed by faith will reject reality itself before admitting they were misled. You can show reports, statistics, videos, investigations, court records, and eyewitness accounts, and they will still dismiss everything because some random WhatsApp forward told them otherwise. We are living in an era where forwarded messages have more credibility than journalists, researchers, or even basic common sense.

India today feels like a giant laboratory where this experiment has gone horribly right. Question those in power, and you are instantly treated as though you attacked the nation itself. Criticize policies, and suddenly you are “anti-national.” Ask where the promises went, and people react as if you insulted their religion. Democracy now operates like a customer feedback form where only positive reviews are allowed. Anything else is considered treason.

And perhaps nothing exposes this collapse more brutally than the endless exam paper leaks destroying the future of millions of students. Today, once again, the NEET exam finds itself surrounded by allegations of paper leaks and organized corruption. One more year. One more scandal. One more generation told to “work hard” while criminals cash out their future before the exam even begins.

Since the BJP came to power, dozens upon dozens of recruitment and examination papers have reportedly leaked across the country. Competitive exams, government jobs, entrance tests, eligibility exams, one after another, turning the dreams of students into a national joke. Millions of young people spend years studying under unbearable pressure, only to discover that the real qualification in modern India is not merit, but access. Access to leaked papers. Access to corrupt networks. Access to political protection.

And what is truly astonishing is not just the leaks themselves, but the complete normalization of them. Students protest. Families cry. Investigations are announced. A few small players are arrested for the cameras. Then the system quietly moves on as though destroying careers and mental health is just another administrative inconvenience.

Meanwhile, there are repeated accusations that powerful political figures and networks continue to shelter or protect the very people running these rackets. Yet elections continue to be won comfortably because blind faith is stronger than accountability. A student can lose years of preparation, a family can lose savings, an entire generation can lose faith in fairness itself, and still millions will vote emotionally because someone shouted “Hindutva” loudly enough on television.

That is the genius of identity politics. Steal the future, then distract the victims with religion.

Nothing captures this absurdity better than the endless political performance around the idea of a “drug-free India.” The speeches are dramatic, the slogans are loud, and the election posters are large enough to be seen from space. Every politician suddenly transforms into a warrior against addiction during campaign season. Yet somehow, nobody wants to discuss how deeply drug networks survive under political protection across the country. It’s the political equivalent of a mosquito running an anti-malaria campaign.

Take Gujarat, proudly advertised as a “dry state.” Officially, alcohol is banned. Unofficially, alcohol is available with such efficiency that one could argue prohibition has simply become a government-sponsored networking exercise. The state loses enormous tax revenue while illegal liquor markets thrive comfortably in the shadows. Naturally, when unregulated alcohol kills people, authorities perform the usual ritual: express sadness, announce investigations, arrest a few expendable faces, and quietly move on once the headlines fade. It is governance by theater, where symbolism matters more than outcomes.

Meanwhile, the consequences land on ordinary citizens. Hospitals deal with accidents, poisonings, violence, and injuries linked to substance abuse, while the state loses revenue that could have funded healthcare, education, or infrastructure. But instead of admitting that failed policies create thriving black markets, politicians continue selling morality as public policy. Apparently, pretending a problem doesn’t exist is now considered leadership.

And then there’s the grand hypocrisy surrounding hard drugs. Massive seizures occasionally appear in the news. Television anchors scream for two days straight. Politicians demand investigations with great patriotic energy. Social media erupts. Then suddenly, silence. The stories vanish faster than accountability whenever powerful names enter the conversation. Questions about political connections, administrative failures, or influential business interests evaporate overnight. The public is expected to forget everything by the next news cycle and return to arguing over hashtags and movie boycotts.

Of course, this silence does not happen naturally. It is carefully managed by what people now openly call the “Godi media,” large sections of national media that behave less like journalists and more like official PR departments. Their job is not to investigate power, but to protect it. Prime-time debates are reduced to shouting competitions designed to distract people from unemployment, corruption, paper leaks, drug networks, economic failures, and institutional decay. Real stories disappear under manufactured outrage, celebrity gossip, religious polarization, and nightly nationalism performances complete with dramatic background music. Apparently, journalism in modern India now means asking the government difficult questions like, “Sir, how do you work so hard for the nation?”

And even when serious allegations emerge around stolen votes, electoral irregularities, or delayed investigations, the system moves with the speed of a sleeping buffalo. Hundreds of cases sit waiting in courts while elections come and go. Justice delayed becomes justice denied, especially when the delay itself protects the powerful. By the time hearings happen, the damage is already complete, governments are formed, careers are destroyed, and public memory has been carefully redirected toward the next emotional distraction.

The real tragedy is not corruption itself. Corruption has existed forever. The real tragedy is watching ordinary people passionately defend systems that are actively damaging their own lives. Students lose opportunities. Families lose savings. Young people lose hope. Yet people continue cheering for leaders who speak endlessly about religion while quietly stealing the future of the very people worshipping them.

At some point, society must ask itself a difficult question: when are people going to wake up to the reality that they are being led by leaders who survive not on governance, but on emotional manipulation? Leaders who keep people busy fighting cultural wars while unemployment rises, institutions weaken, education collapses, and corruption spreads like a disease.

Blind faith is the greatest political weapon ever invented because it eliminates the need for accountability. A thinking citizen asks questions. A faithful follower attacks whoever asks them. That is the transformation modern politics desperately wants. Not informed citizens. Not critical thinkers. Just emotionally charged supporters trained to confuse loyalty with intelligence.

At some point, reality itself becomes inconvenient. Truth becomes offensive. Facts become propaganda. And the greatest irony of all is that people trapped in this blindness genuinely believe they are the enlightened ones.

That is the terrifying power of blind faith. It convinces victims to protect the very system that is hurting them, while proudly calling it patriotism.