My Dear Sir,

Pray tell, what is the most critically urgent regional, national or international crisis plaguing our land today? Ah, no - forgive me, you’ve asked a hopelessly foolish question! Whether one’s belly is empty or full, whether employment exists or not - those are horribly ancient, terribly outdated fashions. The real question confronting civilisation today is - tonight, will you earn a direct VIP pass to heaven by eating paneer or will you roast in the blazing fires of hell for eating mutton?

Recently, to settle this profound scientific, social and spiritual dilemma, a most venerable ‘Babaji’ deigned to bless our Bengal with his holy presence, fully sponsored by the state government. He arrived, flailed his arms and legs, and showered us with priceless nuggets of wisdom. The television news channels gawked open-mouthed, while social media drooled in ecstasy. A dozen ministers and bureaucrats, led by the Chief Minister himself, humbly folded their knees to quaff this gravity-laden nectar of divine enlightenment. Thereafter, the holy ‘Babaji’ packed his bags and departed the state as scheduled - leaving behind a benevolent parting glance and flinging a choice insult at us - “Hypocrites!” Whether he meant to diagnose Bengali society or was merely experiencing a sudden moment of intense self-realisation could not be confirmed.

OXYGEN FOR HATE MERCHANTS

Yet, one massive benefit did emerge. The divisive political market of hatred had been suffering from a severe oxygen deficit for a while, and the ‘Babaji’ arrived just in time to supply a full week’s emergency cylinder. Now, nobody talks about useless rubbish like unemployment, the price of rice and sugar, or the complete absence of jobs. Bengal is blissfully engrossed in the glorious World War of ‘Meat vs. Vegetarianism’. The whole affair is rather like offering solemn advice to a man without a roof over his head – ‘Brother, should we paint your non-existent ceiling by saffron or white?’

Right on the heels of this cosmic event, an even weightier, universe-altering problem raised its head - the Durga idol’s arms! Eleven arms! Termed as “casual mistake”!

Let the rest of the nation’s petty troubles stand quietly in line with folded hands. First, we must count the Mother’s arms - one, two, three... eleven! Instantly, heat waves engulfed the newsrooms, a tsunami swept social media, and lightning bolts struck the political stage. A millimeter-precision debate broke out over whose religious sentiments ran deeper.

At that exact moment, somewhere off in a corner, a foolish young lad was filling out a government job application. His father’s pockets were empty, and the boy was seeing stars before his eyes. The lad thought to himself: having eleven arms certainly boosts the Mother's cosmic power, but if only these two hands of mine could land a job as a constable or a clerk, at least the rice pot at home would boil!

Ah, what a magnificent civilisation of ours! A place where you may fiercely debate whether to serve mutton or cottage cheese on your plate but raising a question about why you are starving is considered downright vulgar! Prime-time television can rage for hours over the precise count of a deity's arms, but the moment you ask why there are no teachers in state schools, you are immediately branded as ‘Dimagi naxal.'

ALGEBRA OF SCHOOLS AND TEACHERS

Would you care to hear the official figures on paper? Official government records reveal that in the 2025–26 academic year in West Bengal, 6,769 schools were running with just a single teacher! And do you know the number of students enrolled in these single-teacher schools? 2,29,569 students! In short, one solitary teacher must simultaneously play the role of instructor, headmaster, clerk and the school janitor ringing the dismissal bell. If only our political demigods could graft eight additional arms onto the shoulders of those lone teachers—much like the goddess—perhaps our education system could be saved!

Now, behold the mirror image spiritual spectacle. There are 4,133 government schools in the state with precisely zero students! Yet, 19,502 teachers are peacefully employed and drawing monthly salaries there! Now this is true Indian spiritual philosophy! Where over two hundred thousand children wait open-mouthed, the guru is absent; and where nineteen-and-a-half thousand gurus reside in serene meditation, the students have vanished into thin air!

Naturally, our omnipresent government-blessed babaji didn't waste a single sentence on this novel educational policy. Why would he? There are no TRP ratings in that!

JOBLESSNESS AND POVERTY

If you talk about meat, one faction loses its mind; if you preach vegetarianism, another gets outraged; and if you comment on Durga’s arms, everyone explodes in fury. But the second you bring up unemployment, everyone collectively falls into a sleep so profound it would make Kumbhakarna hang his head in shame!

Yet what do the official PLFS figures for 2025 say? In West Bengal, the unemployment rate for youth aged 15 to 29 stands at 10.6 per cent by Usual Status. Under the Current Weekly Status, this unemployment rate leaps to 12.6 per cent! That means out of every 100 able-bodied young persons, 12 to 13 are sitting idle with their hands on their heads. Pockets are completely bare, yet the holy man lovingly inquires—"First tell me, child, did you have jackfruit seeds for breakfast or mutton?"

NITI Aayog’s ledger claims that poverty in the country has declined. Multidimensional poverty reportedly dropped from 24.85 per cent in 2015–16 to 14.96 per cent in 2019–21, with projections showing a further drop to 11.28 per cent for 2022–23. These are official figures, of course, which naturally maintain a healthy distance from reality. Still, what joyful news!

But does a reduction in poverty mean poverty has actually vanished?

Poverty isn't merely an empty wallet, my friend. NITI Aayog's own index acknowledges this—nutrition, schooling, drinking water, sanitation, electricity, and housing together define poverty. A person is not poor by stomach hunger alone; they suffer from information hunger, education hunger, job hunger and dignity hunger. But no self-proclaimed babaji ever preaches about these unspiritual hungers, declaring: "Lo, my devotees, on the day every youth in this nation secures a job, I shall break my fast!"

Why would they? Providing jobs requires budgets, tax accountability, and setting up factories. For spreading verbal bile over vegetarian vs. non-vegetarian or ten hands vs. eleven? All you need is a microphone and two cameras, and bingo—job done! Throw in Facebook and WhatsApp propaganda, and you have a glorious inferno across the nation that spreads faster than a fire in a nearby factory.

And speaking of factories and industry—you might ask, where are the new industries in the state?

Ugh, what a hopelessly old-fashioned question! Talking about industry means opening files, accounting for incoming investments, and calculating land, water, and electricity. How much simpler to ask: "Are you a mutton-eater or a vegetarian?" or "How many arms does Mother Durga have?" That doesn't require digesting thick economics textbooks!

WHAT’S BEST FOR DIVIDING PEOPLE

Do you know the greatest advantage? Food and religion allow you to divide people effortlessly into two warring camps. But you cannot divide people using unemployment. The agony and hunger pangs of an unemployed Hindu youth and an unemployed Muslim youth are identical. Both need jobs, both need rice and dal on the table, both need medicine for their aging fathers. And this very commonality is dangerously lethal to the godmen’s political market!

So, the clever operators throw a marble right down the middle to get the two fighting each other: What do you eat? What is the form of your goddess? Meanwhile—Where is my job? Why are there no teachers in my school? Why is there no factory in my area? Why is there no drinking water in my home? —all these questions dissolve quietly into the cosmic void.

The truth is, sir, petrol or data are not the most expensive commodities in this country. The most precious asset is human attention. Where your attention is directed and trapped—that is the real politics. If you spend your whole day watching the holy man's sermons on television and debating the contents of your dinner plate, where will you find the time to question your child's future?

So, there is no point blaming those godmen. They will come, pull the wool over our eyes, pocket their cash, and take their leave. The real question belongs to us: Will we walk into the exact same trap every single time?

If someone stands before a starving person today and asks, "Brother, will you eat meat or vegetarian fare?" he will snap in fury—"Give me rice first, you rascal, or I’ll devour the map!" Let some grain enter the belly first; philosophy can be discussed later.

That is an absolute, undeniable truth. For a human being, the first religion is survival. And the first condition of survival is putting two grains of rice into the stomach.

All other quarrels can wait. The goddess’s arms can be counted later, and the holy man’s sermons listened to eventually. But before that, come, brother—let us count:

• Does the average person in this country have food in their hands?

• Do our young men have work in their hands?

• Do the 2,29,569 children in those 6,769 schools have enough teachers before them?

• And do the 19,502 teachers in those 4,133 schools have any students sitting before them?

Ah, no! This math is far too tough and complicated! That is probably why, to this day, no holy babaji ever manifested to solve this particular arithmetic!