Table of Content

1.  The Historical Roots of a National Ailment
2.  The Great Deception: Glorifying the Few, Ignoring the Millions
3.  The Modern Manifestation: A Legacy of Subservience
   1. A Crisis of Governance and Character
   2. The Corporate Rat Race: Flattery and Exploitation
   3. The Myth of Innovation: Celebrating Consumption, Not Creation
   4.  The Peddlers of the Lie: Bollywood and Politics
4. Conclusion

There is a powerful, unstated demand in modern India. It isn’t for better infrastructure, cleaner air, or more jobs, though those are needed. It’s for a feeling. In the bleak backdrop of today’s realities, what many Indians truly want is a book, an article, a documentary, or a movie that makes them feel superior to the rest of the world.

This craving for an “emotion of superiority” has become a potent cultural drug

And the nation’s most powerful players have become its most proficient dealers.

 The Historical Roots of a National Ailment

To understand the present, we must look to the past.

We must examine a difficult and often-ignored narrative from India’s past.

For centuries, while heroic resistance existed, the scaffolding of foreign rule was built and maintained by a significant class of local collaborators.

For much of the last few centuries, a pattern of subservience to centralized power became a defining characteristic of India’s political and social landscape. This collaboration stemmed from a complex mix of motives—pragmatism, survival, pre-existing rivalries, and personal ambition, not just a simple lack of character.

In the past, it was these spineless men who offered their loyalty to invaders like the Mughals and the British. Their deference was the key that didn’t just unlock the door for invaders to enter India, but allowed them to take over the entire country and rule for centuries.

While a courageous few—whose stories we rightly celebrate—fought against these powers, they were often the exception. The historical reality is that a vast population, caught between survival and allegiance, found itself in a position where compliance, whether coerced, pragmatic, or willing, formed the bedrock of foreign rule. They weren’t necessarily “spineless”; they were participants in a system where subservience to the powerful was the most viable path.

They betrayed their brothers and fellow citizens to be in the good books of the invaders and earn money.

 The Great Deception: Glorifying the Few, Ignoring the Millions

This historical truth has been systematically erased.

Since Indepedence and over generations, immoral and spineless men have brainwashed the populace through a masterclass in narrative control: the school textbook.

Ever since independence, school textbooks have printed stories of a few brave men like Shivaji, Bhagat Singh, and Maharana Pratap. By focusing exclusively on these heroes, they let students extrapolate this behaviour to the entire population, creating the false belief that their country was filled with millions of self-sacrificing, brave men.

In reality, the country was filled with millions of subservient people who enabled the rule of outsiders. The textbooks never mention the character of the millions whose collaboration allowed a handful of invaders to rule a subcontinent. This convenient lie laid the foundation for a national identity built on fiction, not fact.

This is not to paint a relentlessly bleak picture. There have always been, and still are, millions of honest citizens, principled officials, and genuine innovators who resist the cultural tide of conformity. However, their struggle is often uphill because the systems of power—in politics and corporations alike—frequently reward sycophancy over criticism. The craving for superiority is perhaps a response to this very tension: a way to cope with the anxieties of rapid change and the frustrating gap between national potential and on-the-ground reality.

 The Modern Manifestation: A Legacy of Subservience

This spineless, subservient behaviour—the willingness to seek personal benefit at the cost of the country and the lives of fellow citizens—is not a relic of the past. It is seen everywhere today.

A Crisis of Governance and Character

No wonder corruption is at an all-time high. Murders and rapes are rampant, with a significant portion not even being reported. Core national data on GDP, employment, and poverty levels are constantly debated, with widespread suspicion that they are being fudged to paint a rosier picture. The country’s natural resources are being destroyed and handed over to private players for almost free. Any dissent or criticism is immediately branded as “anti-national” or a “foreign agenda.”

It is as if the politicians are openly declaring, “We will loot you and the country, and you can do nothing.” But the problem isn’t just the politicians. The same level of corruption exists in all government jobs, where employees serve their political masters and work in tandem with them to loot the citizens.

The Corporate Rat Race: Flattery and Exploitation

A similar situation exists in the private sector. If a person has worked in Indian private companies, it is an inbuilt expectation that without flattering the boss or belonging to a powerful group within the organization, their chances of progress are minimal. Politics, groupism, and lobbying are the norm.

This culture of subservience has enabled gross exploitation. Working beyond 8 hours is something every company and every boss thinks is the duty of an employee. This situation has become so dire that corporates have successfully lobbied politicians, and bills have been passed to legally extend the workday to 10 hours.

The Myth of Innovation: Celebrating Consumption, Not Creation

The same mindset permeates the business and entrepreneur circle. Overnight and immediate success is celebrated over long-term product building.

It’s no surprise that India struggles to produce globally disruptive, product-first companies on the scale of a Google or a Tesla. While India has pockets of brilliance in sectors like space technology and digital payments, the celebrated entrepreneurial ecosystem disproportionately rewards business models based on consumption, services, and quick-flips rather than deep, patient, long-term R&D.

To exacerbate the situation, media, TV, and blogs project these small-time, unimaginative, consumption-based entrepreneurs as the innovators of the country. Articles are written comparing them to some of the greatest innovators of the world. Shockingly, no Indian ever questions these lies. On the contrary, they die to meet these shallow entrepreneurs and take a selfie with them.

 The Peddlers of the Lie: Bollywood and Politics

In this environment of systemic failure and personal struggle, the craving for a fantasy of power becomes overwhelming. Unimaginative and non-creative Indian filmmakers have understood this perfectly. They churn out a series of military war movies and spy thrillers where India is shown as a superhero nation and its opponents are reduced to rubble. A parallel series of mythological movies are made where Indian gods fight and punish evil, providing a vicarious sense of justice and power.

Conclusion

Indians want to live a lie.

They don’t want truth; they want the fiction of their own supremacy.

These non-creative and commercially astute filmmakers have found a reliable formula. They produce a consistent stream of nationalistic war films by adapting real historical battles that resulted in decisive victories. While the outcomes are a matter of historical record, the selection of these specific conflicts guarantees a triumphant narrative on screen. Each explosion and heroic depiction of a soldier is a calculated dose of validation, feeding the audience’s hunger to see their nation as a formidable power. By dramatizing these historical battles, they offer a potent form of gratification, reinforcing national pride and satisfying the popular desire for a narrative of strength and superiority.

Running parallel to the military fantasies is another lucrative formula exploited by these same unimaginative filmmakers: the mythological spectacle. In a society grappling with a palpable absence of justice and accountability, these epics of gods fighting and punishing evil offer a powerful, cathartic release. The audience, feeling helpless against real-world corruption and inequity, finds solace and a vicarious sense of power in watching divine beings deliver swift, uncompromising retribution. This on-screen dispensation of cosmic justice not only provides a fantasy of order but also reinforces a sense of cultural and moral superiority, assuring the viewer that their gods are righteous and ultimately triumphant.

Politicians, like Indian Film Industry, have mastered this art. They leave no stone unturned to capitalize on this deep-seated addiction. By selling a constant narrative of national greatness, they distract from their own failures and ensure the population remains intoxicated, docile, and willing to trade reality for a fleeting, false emotion of superiority.

The dealers of this drug—the politicians and filmmakers—are merely responding to a demand. The ultimate power, therefore, lies not with them, but with the consumer. The real question is not why they sell this fantasy, but why Indians are so desperate to buy it. The antidote to a false sense of superiority is not cynicism, but a courageous humility—an honest look in the mirror and the difficult, unglamorous work of building a reality worth being proud of