Bhakti, Bodies & The Death Hierarchy: When a Soldier’s Vacation Becomes a Nation’s Grief Poster
Last week’s Pahalgam terror attack triggered a thought.
I know many will dislike it. But when has that ever stopped me?
Twenty-six Indians lost their lives.
Tourists. Kids. Bus drivers. Young women. Old parents.
Killed. In cold blood.
But the media, the public, and the frenzy that is our national mood — picked one man.
Not the youngest.
Not the most tragic.
Not even someone who was on duty.
Just a man — who wore a uniform once.
An army jawan. On vacation.
And that was enough.
Boom. National martyr. Social media face. Funeral with fireworks.
Ambedkar Saw This Coming
Let’s rewind to 1949. Baba Saheb Ambedkar, in his Grammar of Anarchy speech, dropped this truth bomb:
“In India, Bhakti or what may be called the path of devotion or hero-worship, plays a part in its politics unequalled in magnitude by the part it plays in the politics of any other country in the world.”
And here we are, 75 years later —
Bhakti culture has evolved from just politicians to now dead bodies.
We don’t mourn equally.
We elevate selectively.
We glorify some deaths.
We pity the rest.
And in doing so, we turn tragedy into theatre.
The Soldier Was on Vacation. Why Is His Death More Heroic?
This isn’t a jab at the jawan.
His death is as painful as any other.
But when we highlight his photo, frame his name, and feed the nation’s appetite for symbolism —
while 25 others become just “also killed” —
you’ve got to ask:
Are we actually grieving?
Or just looking for our next patriotic fix?
Remember the Great Abhinandan Moustache Wave?
Guy crashes a plane in Pakistan.
Gets captured.
Returns. And instantly becomes national icon.
Songs. Salutes. Stickers.
Meanwhile, the other two IAF pilots who completed their ops, landed clean, and came home like professionals?
Yeah, you don’t remember them.
Because India doesn’t do quiet competence.
It does glorified crisis.
This Is Not Respect. This Is Lazy Patriotism.
We’ve created a system where:
- Wearing a uniform = moral superiority.
- Dying in one = automatic sainthood.
- Everyone else = sympathy.
Let’s call it what it is:
A national addiction to hero bhakti.
We aren’t trying to honor the dead —
we’re trying to feel better about ourselves through curated grief.
Let’s Be Brutally Honest
Real patriotism?
It’s treating every citizen’s life as equally valuable.
It’s asking:
- Why did this attack happen?
- Why weren’t these lives protected?
- What’s being done to prevent it?
But instead…
We plug into the same old script.
Uniform. Flag. Song. Emotional overdose. Move on.
Final Thought?
India doesn’t need more heroes.
It needs accountability. Systems. Equality. Humanity.
Stop ranking the dead.
Stop measuring grief based on careers.
Because if a man’s death only matters when he wears a uniform,
we’ve lost the plot as a society.
And trust me —
The better ones? They’re always the quiet ones.
And they never make the news.
Middle Beast: Israel, Iran & the Era of Impunity Warfare