### My Thoughts on the Narendra Modi Government: Reflection After 11 Years

As someone who's followed Indian politics closely, I've been increasingly disillusioned with the Narendra Modi government's performance over its three terms since 2014. While the BJP and its supporters hail Modi as a transformative leader, I see a regime that's delivered on a narrow ideological agenda but failed miserably in broader economic, social, and geopolitical spheres. In these 11 years, the government has fulfilled two key promises from the RSS playbook—the Ayodhya Ram Temple and the abrogation of Article 370—but the third, the Uniform Civil Code, remains stalled nationally. Economically, it's clung to socialist policies reminiscent of past governments, providing superficial stability without bold reforms, and succumbing to the very "revadi" culture Modi once criticized. Disasters like demonetization, backtracks on land and farm reforms, and a lack of big ideas have left India far short of its potential. Geopolitically, despite Modi's globe-trotting and claims of being a "Vishwaguru," India is weaker today than in 2014, with strained ties to neighbors and major powers alike. Sure, there's been some infrastructure progress, but net-net, we're a nation adrift, burdened by inequality, unemployment, and unfulfilled promises. Let me break this down with facts to back my views.

#### The Ideological Wins: Hollow Victories in a Divided Nation

I'll give credit where it's due: the Modi government has ticked off two major items from the Sangh Parivar's wishlist. The construction of the Ram Temple in Ayodhya was a long-standing demand, and its inauguration in January 2024 was portrayed as a cultural renaissance.

Similarly, the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019, which stripped Jammu and Kashmir of its special status and bifurcated it into union territories, was sold as integrating the region fully into India. On paper, it allowed non-residents to buy land and access jobs. However even in 2025, security remains precarious. Without granting Kashmir its statehood, the “peace” is uncalm.

And then there's the Uniform Civil Code (UCC), the third pillar of the RSS agenda, which has been conveniently shoved to the backburner nationally. Despite promises in BJP manifestos, as of August 2025, there's no central legislation. Uttarakhand implemented a state-level UCC in January 2025, covering marriage, divorce, and inheritance but exempting tribals, and Gujarat formed a committee, but that's it—no nationwide push. The Law Commission is still "consulting," but debates on religious freedoms have stalled it. In my opinion, this delay exposes the government's hypocrisy—bold on divisive issues but timid when it risks broader backlash. These ideological "wins" have solidified the BJP's core vote bank, but they've come at the expense of national unity, leaving India more polarized than ever.

#### Economic Stagnation: Socialist Policies and Missed Opportunities

One of my biggest gripes is how the Modi government hasn't broken from the socialist mold of previous regimes. Financially, it's business as usual—big government spending, high deficits, and welfare bloat—despite Modi's early rhetoric of "minimum government, maximum governance." Political stability from BJP majorities should have enabled radical reforms, but instead, we've seen complacency. India's GDP has grown to about $3.91 trillion in 2025, with Q1 FY25-26 growth at 7.8%, but this masks deep flaws. Unemployment is alarmingly high at 5.1-5.6% overall and 6.5-7.1% in urban areas, with youth joblessness at 15%, driving despair and even suicides. Inequality has worsened, with the top 1% holding 40% of wealth, and rural distress persists.

Major reforms? Hardly. GST in 2017 unified taxes, but collections at ₹1.7 lakh crore monthly haven't translated to broad prosperity. The Insolvency Code resolved some bad loans, but overall, manufacturing's GDP share is stuck at 15-16%, and exports lag. Demonetization in 2016 was a catastrophe—wiping out 1-2% of GDP growth, decimating informal jobs (45% lost in hit sectors), and failing to curb black money as 99.3% of notes returned. It's a prime example of poorly thought-out policies that hurt the vulnerable most.

Fiscal deficits at 6-7% of GDP, are unsustainable, funded by borrowing that burdens future generations. Per capita income has risen, but not enough to compete with China, and the government's hype about becoming the third-largest economy by 2030 ignores the jobs crisis—10-12 million new entrants annually with few opportunities. In my view, Modi has squandered stability on incremental tweaks rather than transformative liberalization, leaving India vulnerable in a perilous 2025.

#### Succumbing to Revadi Culture: A Sign of Weak Leadership

Modi once railed against "revadi" culture in 2022, calling freebies fiscally ruinous and a ploy to buy votes. Yet, his government has embraced it wholeheartedly, revealing weakness despite absolute power in earlier terms. Schemes like PM-KISAN (₹6,000 to 11 crore farmers) and free rations for 80 crore (extended to 2028) cost ₹11 lakh crore in 2024 alone. Ayushman Bharat and Awas Yojana are expansive, but they're band-aids on systemic issues like healthcare and housing shortages.

BJP states now dole out free gas cylinders and power, mimicking opposition "freebies" Modi criticized. This hypocrisy strains budgets—states like Punjab and Delhi are debt-laden—and diverts funds from productive investments. Welfare helped during COVID, reducing extreme poverty to 2%, but it's unsustainable, pushing fiscal distress. In my opinion, this U-turn shows Modi's electoral desperation, especially post-2024 setbacks, prioritizing short-term gains over long-term fiscal health.

#### Backtracking on Reforms: No Big Ideas, Just Retreats

The government's retreats on key reforms scream indecision. The 2020 farm laws, meant to liberalize markets, were scrapped in 2021 after protests that claimed over 700 lives. Farmers feared corporate takeover, and without alternatives by 2025, agriculture remains inefficient, MSP demands unmet.

Land reforms? The 2015 ordinance eased acquisitions but lapsed amid opposition, reverting to the cumbersome 2013 Act. This has stalled industrial growth. Even lateral entry in bureaucracy was withdrawn in 2024. These flip-flops, despite majorities, show a leader afraid of confrontation, leaving India without the "big ideas" needed for progress.

#### Geopolitical Failures: From Vishwaguru to Isolated Player

Modi's traveled more than any PM, visiting 70+ countries, and flaunted the 2023 G20 as India's moment. But claims of global respect ring hollow—India is worse off geopolitically in 2025 than 2014. Neighbors are alienated: Bangladesh pivoted to China and Pakistan after Sheikh Hasina's 2024 ouster, demanding her extradition and straining ties. Nepal's border disputes flared in 2020 and persist; Pakistan relations are frozen since 2016, with a 2025 crisis escalating to missile strikes.

China? Border clashes since 2020's Galwan remain unresolved despite partial disengagement and Modi's August 2025 visit—the first in seven years. Trade deficits balloon, and security concerns limit cooperation.

Europe critiques human rights; Russia ties are strong but pressured by US sanctions. The US, under Trump, slapped 50% tariffs on Indian goods in August 2025 over Russian oil imports, threatening $48.2 billion in exports and souring relations. This "low moment" exposes Modi's non-alignment as isolationist folly.

#### Infrastructure Gains: A Silver Lining That's Not Enough

Infrastructure has improved—highways doubled to 1.46 lakh km, airports to 157, and ₹11.21 lakh crore budgeted for 2025-26 capex. But even here, it's uneven: rural connectivity lags, and projects often overrun costs. FDI hit $81B in 2024, but it's concentrated in urban areas, exacerbating divides. In my view, this is window-dressing—necessary but insufficient to offset broader failures.

#### Net Assessment: A Weaker India in 2025

After 11 years, Modi's government has left India economically strained, socially divided, and geopolitically weakened. Growth at 6.5-7% is touted, but masks unemployment, inequality, and policy U-turns. Ideological triumphs are pyrrhic, welfare populism hypocritical, and global standing diminished. Modi survived through publicity, but his regime has failed on promises, exposing leadership limits. For India to thrive, we need accountability, not hype.

Reclaiming Sita

The narrative of Sita, as etched in the original Valmiki Ramayana, is a masterpiece of character development, presenting a woman of profound strength, fierce intellect, and unyielding agency. Far from the meek and submissive figure often portrayed in later retellings, Valmiki's Sita is a dynamic heroine who challenges authority, critiques moral failings, and fearlessly asserts her own will. Her character stands as a testament to the progressive ideals of its time, offering a nuanced and powerful portrayal that was subsequently "watered down" in more devotional, and arguably patriarchal, versions like Tulsidas's Ramcharitmanas. To truly understand the progressive spirit of Valmiki's epic, it is crucial to delve into the specific instances where Sita's voice, her critiques of her husband, and her defiance of societal norms shine brightest. It is this authentic, progressive Sita whose story we must share with the girls and young women of today.

From the moment of Rama's exile, Sita’s agency is on full display. When the news of his banishment reaches her, she is not a passive recipient of fate but an active participant in their shared destiny. Her husband, in a well-intentioned but patriarchal gesture, attempts to dissuade her from accompanying him, painting a picture of the dangers and hardships of forest life. He frames her role as being to serve his parents in Ayodhya and wait for his return. Sita’s response is a landmark moment in the epic. She delivers a powerful and eloquent monologue that is a masterclass in challenging patriarchal assumptions. She argues that the hardships he speaks of are trivial compared to the agony of separation. "What joy can I have in palaces and luxuries when you are not there?" she asks. She goes further, chastising Rama for speaking "like a common man" who fails to understand the true essence of marriage.¹ A wife, she argues, is not a possession to be left behind, but an intrinsic part of her husband's being. She asserts her fundamental right to share in his life, both in fortune and in misfortune, declaring, "A wife's devotion is her greatest strength, and my place is by your side." Her powerful, logical, and emotionally charged arguments leave Rama with no choice but to concede. This scene is a profound statement of her self-worth and her refusal to have her life dictated by others, even her beloved husband.

 

Sita’s intellectual and moral authority is most vividly highlighted in her critical questioning of Rama's actions. In the Aranya Kanda, after the couple has settled in the forest, they are approached by sages who beg for Rama's protection against the rakshasas (demons) who are disrupting their sacred rituals. Rama, ever the righteous prince, readily agrees to use his divine bow to eliminate the threats. Sita, however, does not silently approve of this. Instead, she initiates a philosophical debate with Rama, raising a series of profound questions that challenge the very nature of his duty. She meticulously lays out her concerns, arguing that a hermit, living a life of self-restraint and non-violence, should not be wielding a weapon. Her logic is unassailable: "A king's duty is to protect, but a hermit's is to live without harming. You are in exile, living as a hermit, not a king. Is it proper to carry arms when you are meant to live in peace?" This is a breathtaking display of her moral fortitude; she is unafraid to hold her husband accountable to a higher ethical standard.

She then advances a more dangerous and psychologically astute argument. She warns Rama about the corrupting influence of violence itself. "The very sight of a weapon can incite a desire to use it," she says. She feared that the act of killing, even if justified, could harden his heart and turn him into the very thing he was fighting against. She even questions whether killing beings who had not personally wronged them was an act of true righteousness. She feared that by becoming a killer, even of demons, Rama would lose his own moral purity. This line of questioning—“how are you any different from them?”—is an astonishingly prescient and modern-sounding critique of the moral compromises of war. This is not a conversation between a man and a submissive wife, but a debate between two equals on a matter of profound philosophical importance.

The stark contrast between Valmiki's Sita and the Sita of later retellings is nowhere more evident than in the absence of the Lakshman Rekha in the original epic. This widely popular motif, which blames Sita's abduction on her transgression of a boundary drawn by Lakshman, is a later addition, most prominently featured in the Ramcharitmanas. In Valmiki's version, Sita is abducted through pure deceit. Ravana, disguised as a mendicant, tricks her into a moment of vulnerability, but her downfall is not a result of her own disobedience. She is driven by the virtue of offering alms, an act of compassion. By introducing the Lakshman Rekha, Tulsidas’s narrative subtly but significantly shifts the blame onto Sita, implying that her misfortune was a direct consequence of her own failure to adhere to a man's command. This narrative change serves to water down her agency and promote a regressive idea that a woman’s security is contingent on her submission to male authority, a message that stands in direct opposition to the fearless, strong-willed Sita of Valmiki.

Sita's unyielding strength is further showcased in her defiant refusal to be a trembling victim in Ravana's palace. She is not a passive captive; she is a defiant woman who consistently and eloquently rejects Ravana's advances. She scoffs at his power, mocks his arrogance, and tells him to his face that his doom is sealed by her husband's hand. When he threatens to eat her, she is not terrified but composed, declaring that she would rather die than be his wife. Her refusal to be intimidated and her unflinching loyalty to Rama are a profound display of her mental fortitude and self-respect.

The tragic climax of her story, the Agni Pariksha, is often misconstrued as a moment of submission. In Valmiki’s hands, it is anything but. When Rama coldly declares that he cannot accept her back immediately, citing the need for public proof of her purity, Sita’s response is a torrent of heart-wrenching anger and righteous indignation. She tells him that his words have pierced her heart like a lance. She asks him why he is judging her based on rumor rather than on his intimate knowledge of her character. She then voluntarily enters the fire, not as a submissive wife proving her innocence to a suspicious husband, but as a woman making a final, tragic assertion of her honor and dignity. Her act is an ultimatum, a powerful statement that if her purity is questioned, she has no place in a world that would dishonor her.

This spirit of defiant self-respect culminates in the final act of the epic. After a second, unjust exile, Sita is living with her sons in the hermitage of Valmiki. When Rama, upon discovering his sons, invites her back, she delivers her final, unwavering refusal. She declares that she has endured enough humiliation and public scrutiny. Instead of returning to a life where her virtue will forever be questioned, she gives one last, poignant speech and asks her mother, Mother Earth, to take her back. Her final act is not a suicide, but a profound and ultimate assertion of her agency. She chooses her own end, refusing to be a victim of circumstance or public opinion any longer.

Valmiki's Sita is a feminist icon before the term existed. She is intelligent, outspoken, fiercely loyal, and unafraid to challenge the men in her life on matters of ethics and duty. Her character provides a powerful model for young women today, teaching them that strength is not about physical prowess but about moral clarity, intellectual independence, and the courage to demand respect. Her story is a timeless lesson that a woman's voice should never be silenced, her choices should be her own, and her dignity should be inviolable. To reclaim and spread the story of Valmiki's progressive Sita is to honor a narrative that has been a beacon of female strength for millennia and to empower a new generation of girls to find their own strong, unflinching voices.

However in the end we should also appreciate that Tulsidas's portrayal of a less "strong" Sita was not a mistake but a deliberate and calculated choice driven by his theological, socio-political, and literary goals. He had to create a version of the epic that was accessible to the masses, centered on a divine and infallible Rama, and that reinforced the devotional and social ideals of his time. It has to be noted that Tulsidasji wrote his version in 16^th Century where Mughuls were ruling it. The concept of Laxman Rekha to keep Site in “Maryada” was a social necessity. The addition of the Lakshman Rekha in Tulsidas's version is a prime example of his didactic and moralizing approach. It serves as a simple and powerful metaphor for the dangers of crossing boundaries—both physical and social. For a society grappling with instability, this narrative provided a clear, cautionary tale about the importance of order and adherence to norms. The blame for the abduction is subtly shifted from pure evil (Ravana) to Sita's momentary lapse in judgment, which reinforces a social message about obedience and the consequences of straying from prescribed behavior. The times (of 16^th Century) required re-shaping Sita from Valmiki's complex, questioning heroine into a submissive but spiritually powerful consort, whose strength lay in her unwavering and unconditional devotion to her divine husband.