Think about the hashtag#teenager in your home or near you. Smart, capable, digitally fluent, and at the same time also overwhelmed in ways they cannot name. We live in a hashtag#VUCA world (Volatile, Uncertain, Complex, and Ambiguous). hashtag#AI has turbocharged these as it rewrites entire industries between one school year and the next. A young person today will navigate careers, relationships, and ethical choices that no previous generation has a map for. And into this storm, we are sending them armed with information and skills, but almost no internal compass.
Every civilisation that lasted long enough to be worth studying understood that hashtag#puberty is the precise moment to hand a young person that compass. The Jewish Bar Mitzvah assigns a 13-year-old with an important responsibility. From this day, you are answerable for your own actions. Similarly, the Aboriginal Walkabout sends a boy into the wilderness alone for months, to deepen his connection to identity and belonging before he returns as a man. Japan’s Seijin Shiki gathers every young person who has turned 20 and says collectively: you belong to this society now. You owe it something.
Indian Culture had its own answer, the hashtag#Janeu or hashtag#Upanayan sanskar just before hitting puberty. Upanayan means bringing near, bringing a young person into proximity with dharm, with their own deeper nature. The child receives the sacred thread, taught the Gayatri mantr, and is formally initiated into student life under a guru. In South India, the Ritu Kala Samskaram marks the same threshold for girls. These are civilisational frameworks designed at exactly the moment a young person most needs one. There is nothing stopping us from removing any caste, religion and gender barrier from this sanskar, is there? Who will say no for this to their child? Gargi underwent it. Maitreyi underwent it.
At the heart of the Upanayana is hashtag#Vivek, the faculty of discernment, the ability to distinguish hashtag#dharm from adharm, right action from merely convenient action. A young person with Vivek does not get overwhelmed by VUCA. They read it, they develop appropriate frameworks and become capable of seeing around corners, prepare for what may be coming, and make their moves with steadiness and purpose. That is a very different thing from anxiety, from reactivity, from the paralysis that so many young people carry today without even knowing why.
Most Indian families still perform the Upanayan, but the gap between ritual and meaning is the gap an entire generation is falling through.
hashtag#EduCulture proposes to close it. A young person shaped by their civilisational inheritance does not need to be told how to behave in a VUCA world. They already carry the framework. They know what changes and what stays constant. They can take advantage of what is coming without losing their sense of what is right.
When did we decide that producing skilled people was enough, and stopped asking whether we were producing good ones?
Why India Needs a Ministry of EduCulture
India has a Ministry of Education with budget this year of ₹1,39,286 crore, and a Ministry of Culture with ₹3,361 crore budget.
Between these two ministries, there is no conversation. One produces degrees and the other preserves monuments. Neither is asking the question that matters most in the AI era: What kind of human being are we producing, and does that human being know who they are?
This is why India needs a Ministry of EduCulture. A full ministry with a mandate, a budget, and a brief that treats culture as education to be lived, not merely heritage to be archived.
Look at what South Korea did. In 2008, after an economic crisis left the country on its knees, it created a Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism with one clear understanding: cultural identity is a strategic industry. For 2026, that ministry’s budget stands at 7.86 trillion won, an 11.2% increase, placing culture, sports and tourism among the most aggressively funded policy areas in the country. The S.Korean government has set a target to grow the K-culture industry to 300 trillion won by 2030. South Korea got BTS because a government decided, twenty-five years ago, that culture was worth serious investment.
India is sitting on a civilisational inheritance infinitely older and richer than K-pop. Its culture budget is a rounding error against its education budget and the result is visible everywhere. There is no need to dry the ink talking about what level of Education is being received by this huge taxpayer spent. But, the biggest worry is that we are producing educated people who have no felt relationship with the story tradition that shaped the civilisation they grew up in. Professionals fluent in frameworks imported from Stanford and McKinsey, unable to articulate why the conversation between Shri Krishn and Arjun remains the most sophisticated piece of leadership literature ever written. The question of who we are as a people, and what our stories are actually for, goes unasked in every classroom.
Solution? Imagine how nicely a Ministry of EduCulture would build the Ramlila as an event management and economic ecosystem, the way Bali built the Kecak. So, the vision of this ministry will be to integrate civilisational fluency into education, so a child finishing school in 2030 knows both how to use AI and what they are here for. These are questions I have been pondering over for a long time, long enough that a part of it even became a book, “Freedom! Let Us Begin the Journey…” an exploration of the inward path that runs beneath all outward skill.
Coming back to Government action, it is true that the NEP spoke of Indian knowledge systems, buts its been actioned merely like a policy paragraph, which is a good beginning at best. A ministry with a mandate and money is a different matter altogether. Tag someone in government who should read this. Or DM me if you are already working for hashtag#EduCulture
Ramayan Beyond Religion: An EduCulture Perspective on Civilisational Heritage
A friend called last night and asked me after my last post — why Ramayan specifically? Are you trying to make this about religion?
Fair question. Here is my answer.
Do you know who wrote the dialogues for B.R. Chopra’s Mahabharat on Doordarshan? The one that stopped the country every Sunday. The one that 100 million people watched without fail.
It was Dr. Rahi Masoom Raza. A Muslim scholar from Ghazipur, Uttar Pradesh. A Urdu poet with a doctorate from Aligarh Muslim University.
When people objected and asked why a Muslim was writing a Hindu epic, Dr. Raza’s response was simple and final. “I am the son of the Ganga. Who knows the civilisation and culture of India better than I do?”
And the actor who played Arjun in that same series? Firoz Khan. Born into a Pashtun Muslim family with roots in Peshawar, where I have never been to but have known the name growing up in the town of Sher Shah Suri and crossing GT Road almost on daily basis. Firoz became so completely one with his character that he eventually changed his legal name to Arjun. His own mother started calling him Arjun.
This is the point I am making when I talk about EduCulture.
The Ramayan and the Mahabharat are more of civilisational inheritance tham only some religious property. There is a difference. Religion is about belief. Civilisation is about the shared values, aspirations and imagination that holds a people together, the stories they dream in, the values they reach for when they need language for something important.
Bali is a Hindu island in a Muslim nation and it has built a thriving cultural economy around the Ramayan. Indonesia does not seem to be seeing a contradiction there, we may be creating a fuss out of it on our own. Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Trinidad, Fiji, all of them treated this inheritance as a living thing worth tending, worth performing, worth building institutions around.
The gap in India is an hashtag#EduCulture gap. We stopped asking what our stories are actually for. We reduced them to ritual on one side and controversy on the other, and lost the vast middle ground where Rahi Masoom Raza lived, where Firoz Khan lived, where the Kecak dancers of Bali live every single evening.
An hashtag#EduCultured person does not need to be Hindu to understand the Ramayan. They need to be Indian. Or, as the rest of the world has amply demonstrated, they do not even need to be that.
The story belongs to anyone willing to live by what it teaches.
That is all I am saying.
From Ritual to Living Tradition: The EduCulture Lessons of Ramayan Across the World
Let me ask you a simple question. Rank the following by the quality and scale of their living Ramayan tradition:
1. A city of your choice in India
2. Bali, Indonesia
3. Phnom Penh, Cambodia
4. Vientiane, Laos
5. Trinidad & Tobago
6. Fiji
Most Indians put their city first and then they immediately realize that its not the correct answer.
Bali is covered corner to corner with statues of Shri Ram, Hanumanji, Mata Sita and Jatayu. The Kecak dance retells the Ramayan every single evening as a living cultural act, under open skies, to paying audiences from around the world. Indonesia’s Prambanan Ramayan Ballet is a UNESCO Masterpiece of Intangible Heritage. This is happening in the world’s largest Muslim-majority nation. In Trinidad, in a village carved out of old sugarcane land at the edge of the Caribbean Sea, Ramlila has been performed continuously for over a hundred years. In Fiji, every settlement has its own Ramayan Mandali, a tradition going back 130 years.
Now back to your city or village in India, surely we have a Ramlila Maidan where we burn Ravan every October. And then we fold it up and go home.
Where is the event management ecosystem built around this tradition? The design hubs, the hospitality circuits, the curriculum that draws on the Ramayan for leadership and ethics the way Bali built an entire tourism economy around the Kecak? The country where Maharshi Valmiki first gifted this epic, is treating it as a seasonal ritual while the rest of the world turns it into a living civilisational asset.
BTW, this is not a religious question I am asking here, it is an hashtag#EduCulture question.
Also, I am not just pointing at the gap. There is a Ramlila that has been performed without interruption for 65 years, from India, at the world stage occasionally. I want to bring that story back into the conversation it deserves.
If you are building where culture meets economy, where heritage meets education, where hashtag#EduCulture is understood to be right solution for future of our kids, then please connect or point me to someone who cares.
From Anger to Action: Why EduCultured Youth Need Vivek to Lead Change
Yesterday, a movement that calls itself the COCKROCH JANTA PARTY 🇮🇳 brought hundreds of young people to Jantar Mantar. Cockroach masks, exam guides, chants about education. Real anger, real energy, 20 million Instagram followers made flesh. And then, almost immediately, the conversation shifted because somebody had chosen June 6 as the date for the protest, and June 6 is the anniversary of Operation Blue Star. Within hours, the education minister Dharmendra Pradhan‘s alleged failures were no longer trending. The narrative moved to choice of date, manner of protest, type of slogans and even handling of Delhi heat!
The protest got hijacked by its own oversight and its opponents need not do anything, rather a clarification got circulated by Government of India that no FIR has been registered against protesters.
This is what happens when a generation that is genuinely brilliant at gathering attention has not yet learned the art of channelizing it. The anger at Jantar Mantar was real because the cause, exam irregularities that have cost lakhs of young people a fair shot at their future, was serious and it deserve a full hearing. I myself had to deal with IIT-JEE being cancelled in 1997 which had drained all motivation out of me to study further, just sheer luck that I cleared the re-exam after spending all that time sitting alone at home.
The CJP is a fascinating phenomenon precisely because it proves that Gen Z can mobilise at a scale that older political structures like Indian National Congress or Bhartiya Janta Party (BJP) or even Aam Aadmi Party have lost the ability to imagine. Twenty million followers in under five days, Sonam Wangchuk showing up as an honorary cockroach. Even seasoned politicians scrambling to attach themselves to its energy. The gathering power is extraordinary. But power without Vivek is like a well-sharpened sword carried by someone who has not yet decided which direction they are walking. It cuts, but not necessarily what was intended.
Protest, when it is at its best, is a deeply cultural act. The Salt March worked because every detail of it was deliberate, the date, the route, the image of an old man walking, the salt itself as symbol. Gandhiji went beyond just feeling the injustice deeply, as he understood that feeling alone does not move history. The protest had to be a text that the whole country could read, and it was.
An EduCultured youth carries this understanding alongside the anger. The anger is the fuel, Vivek is the steering. My book, Freedom! Let Us Begin the Journey…, explores exactly this terrain, how inner clarity and outward action are not separate questions but one, and what our civilisational inheritance actually has to say to someone trying to live and act consciously in the world today.
EduCultured Youth will Lead the way in AI Era
Look at the young person sitting across from you in the next team meeting. Chances are they know how to use five AI tools, can automate a workflow in an afternoon, and have a ChatGPT tab permanently open. And yet, when the actual problem needs a decision, a direction, a point of view rooted in something deeper than a prompt, perhaps they have gone quiet.
This issue is being noticed by many but not talked about openly as yet, and I blame the breakneck pace of changes to deal with by one and all. I dont think we should blame AI here as AI is simply the “loudest” mirror we have ever held up to ourselves. What it reflects, for a whole generation of educated but not cultured youth, is a gap between information and wisdom, between skillset and character, between knowing what to do and understanding why it matters.
The Sanskrit word Vivek means discernment, the ability to separate what is real from what is maya, what is right from what is merely convenient. It is neither taught in engineering colleges, nor is available as a course on Coursera as yet. The ability to differentiate between sat-asat, dharm-adharm slowly grows in a person who has been dealing with real life situations of ambiguity, and looked for references within and in collective experiences of the society presented as Culture.
An EduCultured youth is one who carries both. Educated enough to operate in the AI era, and Cultured enough to lead in it.
Because AI will very efficiently give you ten answers to any question you ask. The one thing it cannot do is decide which question deserves to be asked in the first place. That judgment comes from somewhere the algorithm cannot reach as yet. It comes from a civilisation’s accumulated sense of what a human life is actually for.
This question of Vivek, of how to listen to what is real beneath all the noise, is precisely what I have been focusing on in my own life for a long time. Eventually it became a book, “Freedom! Let Us Begin the Journey” which is an exploration of that inward path, drawing from the Vedantic framework of the PanchaKoshas, the five sheaths through which we either live consciously or simply drift. If the idea of knowing yourself as clearly as you know your productivity tools interests you, the link is in the comments.
India has spent thousands of years asking the harder questions. The epic Mahabharat did not just teach archery to Arjuna, and through him everyone who came after, that the battle outside is always a shadow of the one within and Bhagvad Gita guides us through this journey. The youth who will lead in the AI era will be technically capable, yes. But also rooted. Grounded in something larger than their last performance review or their Social Media Posts’ likes and followers count.
The question worth pondering is this: are we raising young people who know only how to use AI, or young people who also know why they are here?
Republic Day Reflection: When the System Kills and We Call It an Accident
On Republic Day, India celebrates the adoption of its Constitution, a document that promised dignity, safety, and equality to every citizen. Parades march down wide avenues, speeches invoke justice and rights, and the idea of the republic is publicly honoured. Yet alongside this celebration sits an uncomfortable reality. The society for which the Constitution was written and the society we inhabit today are no longer the same. The distance between constitutional promise and lived experience has grown wide enough to swallow lives.
The death of Yuvraj Mehta in Noida forces us to confront this gap. His death was quickly described as an accident, but that word hides more than it explains. What happened to him was the result of decisions taken by institutions, authorities, and private actors over time. The system failed at multiple points, and when systems fail in predictable ways, responsibility cannot be dismissed as misfortune. The system killed Yuvraj Mehta. It is not unique. It is only visible this time.
The Constitution was framed with the assumption that public authority would act in good faith and that institutions would gradually mature. It assumed that roads would be safe, that public works would be regulated, and that the state would respond when a citizen’s life was in danger. These assumptions made sense for a society that valued restraint, accountability, and fear of consequence. Today, those assumptions are under strain. Rapid urbanisation, unchecked construction, and the quiet normalisation of corruption have reshaped public life.
India’s roads tell this story clearly. They are no longer just pathways for movement but spaces of constant uncertainty. Citizens are expected to navigate danger as a daily skill. This acceptance of disorder is not harmless. When safety becomes optional, life becomes negotiable. The absence of basic road safety is reflects a deeper tolerance for risk imposed on the public without consent.
The moot point in this tragedy is that the pit that led to Yuvraj Mehta’s death did not appear overnight. It existed because construction was allowed to proceed without safeguards and because oversight mechanisms chose silence over enforcement. Builders dig, authorities approve or ignore, and accountability dissolves into paperwork. These are not isolated failures. They form a pattern in which public spaces are slowly converted into hazards. Such man made traps exist across cities and towns, waiting quietly until someone falls into them.
This reality raises a troubling question about India’s democratic structure. The legislature creates rules, the executive enforces them, and the judiciary is meant to protect rights. When unsafe construction thrives, when violations are routine, and when no one is held accountable after loss of life, these pillars appear present but hollow. Democracy survives in form while failing in function. The Constitution promises protection, yet governance delivers exposure.
What followed the incident deepened this concern. For over two hours, Yuvraj Mehta remained alive and asked for help. Police and rescue agencies were present, yet they could not act effectively. This was not merely a failure of equipment or technique, but that of readiness, confidence, and institutional clarity. Emergency services exist for moments exactly like these. When they hesitate, life slips away.
This paralysis is familiar to many Indians. Accidents, medical emergencies, and disasters often reveal systems that arrive but do not rescue, that observe but do not intervene decisively. Fear of responsibility, lack of training, and procedural confusion take precedence over human urgency. Citizens learn that even when help is near, survival is uncertain.
Republic Day invites reflection, not just celebration. It asks whether the Constitution we honour is being honoured in practice. The document itself remains powerful, but its success depends on the society that lives by it. When corruption shapes development, when safety is treated as inconvenience, and when institutions avoid accountability, constitutional values weaken on the ground.
The question before us is not whether the Constitution has failed, but whether we have drifted too far from the society it imagined. A republic cannot function when public life is filled with hidden dangers and official indifference. It cannot thrive when lives are lost to hazards that were preventable and ignored.
Yuvraj Mehta’s death should not be remembered as a tragic exception. It should be recognised as a warning. The system that killed him operates quietly every day. Most of the time, its victims remain unseen. On this Republic Day, the least we owe to the Constitution is honesty. We must ask ourselves how many such traps surround us, and how many lives it will take before responsibility becomes unavoidable.
FSSAI’s Ayurveda Aahara Move: What It Means for India’s Food, Startups and Exports
A long-form explainer — what changed, how the new FoSCoS pathway works, who benefits, what the risks are and how India’s youth can seize the moment.
Regulatory door opens for traditional food
On 25 September 2025 the Press Information Bureau published a clear, consequential announcement: the Food Safety and Standards Authority of India (FSSAI) has launched a dedicated licensing and registration window for “Ayurveda Aahara” products on its Food Safety Compliance System (FoSCoS) portal. The move formalises a regulatory pathway for foods prepared according to recipes and processes documented in authoritative Ayurvedic texts and comes with an already-published list of 91 pre-approved recipes (an FSSAI order dated 25 July 2025). Taken together, the changes are meant to align centuries-old culinary and health traditions with contemporary food safety and market rules.
This article unpacks every angle of that decision: definitions and the new technical categories, the practical licensing process on FoSCoS, the likely impact on manufacturers and MSMEs, consumer safety and labelling implications, global regulatory comparisons, the commercial and export opportunity (with data), risks to watch, and a concrete roadmap for industry, government and India’s youth.
What exactly is “Ayurveda Aahara”? — clear definitions matter
FSSAI’s Ayurveda Aahara construct is intentionally narrow and practical. Under the Food Safety and Standards (Ayurveda Aahara) Regulations, 2022 and subsequent orders, “Ayurveda Aahara” refers to foods prepared in accordance with recipes, ingredients or processes described in the authoritative texts listed in Schedule A of the Regulations. Importantly, these provisions exclude medicines, cosmetic products, narcotic/psychotropic substances, products covered under the Drugs and Cosmetics Act (including Schedule E1 herbs and metals-based Ayurvedic drugs such as bhasmas and pishtis) and other items the Authority may notify separately.
Three technical terms are central to understanding the new pathway:
FoSCoS (Food Safety Compliance System) — FSSAI’s online portal where licences and registrations are applied for and administered.
KoB (Kind of Business) — the drop-down business-type selector on FoSCoS that maps a food business to the specific regulatory requirements; a new KoB now exists for “Ayurveda Aahara” manufacturers.
FC 102 — FSSAI has created a new Food Category code (FC 102) for Ayurveda Aahara, with subcategories (A, B, B1, B2) that reflect different product/claim types and documentation needs.
These technical levers are intended to convert an often-vague and fragmented compliance landscape into one with defined product categories, standard document requirements and a single digital application channel.
The new regulatory framework and the FoSCoS licence workflow — step by step
Under the new FoSCoS KoB for Ayurveda Aahara, the practical route for a food business operator (FBO) runs like this:
- Determine product category. If the product matches one of the 91 pre-approved Category A recipes published by FSSAI (Order dated 25 July 2025), the application is comparatively straightforward. If it does not, the product falls into Category B/B1/B2 and may require an FSSAI HQ approval letter depending on the claim and composition.
- FoSCoS application. The manufacturer logs into FoSCoS, selects the new KoB “Ayurveda Aahara (Manufacturer)”, chooses the FC 102 subcategory and uploads required documents: formulation, reference to the classical Ayurvedic text or Schedule A source, raw material sourcing details and proposed label text.
- Fee and licence type. Eligibility for the KoB generally requires a Central Licence; the annual fee for that licence under the new KoB has been listed at ₹7,500 + GST (as per the FSSAI order and subsequent guidance summaries).
- Inspection, laboratory verification and records. Like other food manufacturers, Ayurveda Aahara producers are subject to physical inspection and lab tests. They must maintain batch records, certificates of analysis for botanicals, and traceability documentation to enable recalls if needed. The inspection checklist mirrors the general manufacturer checklist but the dossier must also show adherence to the classical recipe/process or an explicit FSSAI approval for any non-standard deviation.
- Claims governance. Any claim that crosses from “general wellness” into “disease risk reduction” or therapeutic territory requires specific approval by FSSAI HQ; failure to obtain such approvals risks rejection or enforcement.
The intent is practical: remove the ambiguity that hampered many small manufacturers while retaining public-health guardrails.
Why this matters for manufacturers, MSMEs and startups
Lower regulatory friction can unlock entrepreneurship. For decades many small producers — village makers of traditional foods, household recipes sold locally, micro-enterprises — lacked a clear pathway to scale because regulators had not provided a specific “food” channel distinct from Ayurvedic drugs or unregulated traditional remedies. The dedicated KoB and the pre-approved product list give those makers a defined route to formal packaging, labelling and market entry.
Bankability and growth. Formal licences make it easier to obtain bank loans, supplier contracts and retail shelf space. Investors and institutional buyers are more likely to trust suppliers that can show FoSCoS licence, lab test reports and traceability. For example, a small producer of classical chyawanprash or amla jam can now document its recipe source, pass lab tests and potentially pitch to regional distributors or e-commerce platforms.
Product innovation from tradition. The FC 102 subcategories and the Category B approval pathway allow product developers to reinterpret classical recipes into modern formats — fortified snacks, ready-to-drink (RTD) herbal beverages, health bars or capsule presentations — while maintaining an Ayurvedic reference and, when necessary, securing approvals for specific claims. This widens the commercial envelope beyond raw herb exports or unlabelled traditional preparations.
Compliance cost is real but addressable. Small firms will face upfront costs: lab testing, documentation and possible factory upgrades for GMP/HACCP alignment. That is why existing incubators, AYUSH/Start-up challenges and targeted voucher support (discussed below) are crucial to make formalisation inclusive rather than exclusionary.
Consumer safety, labelling and the problem of misleading claims
The FSSAI framework emphasises consumer protection. Three practical outcomes follow.
- Safety standards and contaminant limits. Ayurveda Aahara products will be subject to safety limits for microbial loads, pesticide residues and heavy metals, aligned to FSSAI’s food-safety regime. That means that adulterated or contaminated products should be easier to detect and remove from the market.
- Tighter control of therapeutic claims. Labels that imply treatment or cure of disease fall outside food claims and require HQ authorisation or must be avoided. This distinction — food for wellness versus medicinal treatment — protects consumers from misleading messages and reduces the risk that a “food” is marketed as unapproved therapy.
- Traceability enables recall. With batch records and lab certification required, producers will be better positioned to trace and recall problematic lots, protecting consumers and reputations. That same traceability helps build consumer trust and supports export compliance.
All of the above are meaningful because herbal and traditional products historically have suffered from contamination and adulteration issues; peer-reviewed studies and public health reports have documented the presence of lead, mercury and arsenic in a sizeable fraction of certain Ayurvedic preparations sold in informal or unregulated channels. That history underlines why lab testing and supply-chain auditing are central to FSSAI’s approach.
Global comparison: how India’s move fits international practice
If a manufacturer dreams of selling an Ayurveda Aahara product abroad, they must remember that “regulated in India” does not automatically mean “pre-cleared overseas.” Three international regimes are instructive:
European Union — Novel Foods Regulation (EU 2015/2283). The EU treats many unusual botanicals or new ingredient uses as “novel foods.” If an ingredient or preparation lacks significant consumption history in the EU prior to 1997, it may require a full pre-market authorisation dossier that demonstrates safety. An Indian producer will therefore often need extra data and a separate application to access the EU market.
United States — DSHEA and FDA oversight. In the United States, herbal products commonly enter as dietary supplements under DSHEA. The FDA regulates labelling and manufacturing practices (GMPs) and performs post-market surveillance. Claims are tightly controlled and therapeutic claims prompt drug regulation. Exporters must therefore align product format and claims to US requirements.
World Health Organization. WHO’s Traditional Medicine Strategy urges member states to regulate and research traditional medicines and products to protect public health and support informed integration. India’s FSSAI pathway is fully consistent with WHO’s push for regulation and evidence generation in traditional medicine products.
In short, India’s standardisation and FoSCoS channel make Ayurveda Aahara necessary but not sufficient for exports — additional, market-specific dossiers and approvals will often be needed for EU, US and some other markets.
The commercial opportunity — numbers and what they imply
A regulated pathway matters most if there is a market to serve. Several recent industry and government numbers show clear growth signals:
Domestic market size. A market analysis estimates India’s Ayurvedic products market at roughly USD 9.17 billion (≈ USD 9,171.12 million) in 2024, with projected high growth through the end of the decade. Such a base makes Ayurveda Aahara a substantial domestic consumer market to address.
Ayush sector CAGR and industry forecasts. Government-facing industry materials and market analysts have reported the broader AYUSH sector could expand at about 17% CAGR (2024–2032), reflecting rising consumer demand for wellness and preventive health products.
Functional food trends. The broader functional-foods and nutraceutical space in India is also showing rapid uptick; for example, India’s probiotics market nearly doubled over five years to reach around ₹2,070 crore (≈ US$242 million) in 2025, reflecting how health-focused foods are gaining mainstream consumer acceptance. This tendency suggests appetite for Ayurveda-inspired functional foods may be strong.
Exports context. India’s exports of Ayush and herbal products remain modest on a global scale but growing; exports were reported at roughly US$651.17 million in FY 2023-24, with month-by-month variations and spikes in particular months. A formal FSSAI licence should help exporters present a safety-and-compliance story to overseas buyers.
Taken together, the numbers argue that a formalised regulatory pathway could unlock substantial value — especially for value-added, branded products (RTD beverages, healthy snacks, standardized mixes and premium D2C offers) rather than raw herb commodity exports.
India’s role and how young entrepreneurs can plug in
The FSSAI move is also a call to action for India’s startup ecosystem and young innovators. Concrete entry points and supports already exist:
Incubation and mentorship. Institutions such as the All India Institute of Ayurveda’s incubation arm (iCAINE / AIIA-iCAINE) and Ministry of AYUSH / Startup India collaborations (Ayush Startup Grand Challenges) provide both technical mentorship and market access support to early-stage ventures. Startups with credible pilots have a pathway to incubation, testing and, in certain challenge programmes, seed funding and awards.
Skills to build. Successful Ayurveda Aahara ventures will combine classical formulation knowledge with modern food-processing know-how, quality-assurance and compliance skills, digital marketing (D2C), supply-chain contracts with botanical growers, and export documentation practices. Short experiential bootcamps on these topics are now high-value skills for young founders.
Collaboration with traditional knowledge holders. Startups should partner with vaidyas, local artisans and farmer groups for authentic sourcing and documented provenance. Contract farming arrangements, geo-tagged supply records and traceable procurement help both quality and stories for a premium brand.
Funding and schemes. National schemes such as Startup India Seed Fund, state startup policies, and targeted AYUSH/Invest India campaigns can be tapped for early grants, export facilitation and incubator slots.
In short: youth can combine heritage and modern business practices to create premium, export-ready Ayurveda food brands — provided they master compliance and scientific documentation.
Risks and practical challenges — be candid
The new pathway is promising, but several material risks remain:
- Food vs medicine boundary. If an Ayurveda Aahara product makes therapeutic claims (treatment or cure), it risks being classified under drug laws. Manufacturers must therefore be careful about label language and claims; therapeutic intent can trigger a different, more onerous regulatory regime.
- Heavy metals and adulteration. Multiple peer-reviewed studies and public health reports have identified lead, mercury and arsenic in some Ayurvedic preparations sold in informal markets or via poorly-regulated supply chains. This history makes rigorous testing and supply-chain audits non-negotiable.
- Compliance cost burden for micro-units. Laboratory testing, document preparation, factory upgrades and recurring licence fees impose upfront costs that could exclude the smallest producers unless mitigated by targeted support.
- Export hurdles. Even with an Indian licence, products destined for the EU, US or other markets may need additional dossiers, safety studies or novel-food approvals. Export-oriented firms must budget for extra R&D and regulatory work.
- Consumer confusion. Without clear public education, consumers might misinterpret “Ayurveda Aahara” labels as a guarantee of medicinal efficacy rather than food-category wellness products. Communication campaigns are therefore essential.
An optimistic six-point roadmap (actionable)
If the aim is to scale the benefits while minimizing harms, a coordinated set of actions can deliver impact quickly:
- FSSAI FoSCoS helpdesk + tutorials. A dedicated, interactive helpdesk and short video tutorials that walk first-time applicants through KoB selection and document checklists would reduce errors and rejections.
- Testing voucher / incubation subsidy. Central or state-sponsored vouchers for lab testing and incubation slots (500–1,000 MSMEs annually) would defray initial compliance costs and accelerate formalisation. AIIA-iCAINE and other incubators are natural partners.
- Model export dossiers. Invest India, FSSAI and industry bodies can collaborate to prepare model dossiers and safety packages for top 10 Ayurveda Aahara products to ease entry into priority export markets.
- Traceability pilots with contract farming. State agencies and commodity boards should pilot geo-tagged contract farming for key botanicals to ensure graded, auditable supply and reduce adulteration risk.
- Youth bootcamps. Short, practical bootcamps on formulation, compliance and D2C sales run by AIIA and Startup India can create a pipeline of founders who know how to build compliant, export-ready products.
- Public awareness campaign. FSSAI + AYUSH should run calibrated consumer education clarifying the difference between food/wellness claims and medical treatments, and explaining how to read labels and certificates.
- If implemented in a coordinated way, these measures could deliver measurable outcomes in 18–24 months: faster MSME onboarding, initial export pilot projects, and a budding cohort of compliant D2C Ayurveda Aahara brands.
Conclusion — from heritage to regulated market
The FSSAI decision to add a dedicated Ayurveda Aahara pathway on FoSCoS is far more than administrative housekeeping. It is an attempt to create a bridge between classical food wisdom and contemporary food-safety, market and export systems. For consumers it promises clearer labels and safer products. For MSMEs and startups it opens a pathway to scale, bankability and brand creation. For exporters it offers a way to show regulatory credibility when courting overseas buyers.
At the same time, the initiative will succeed only with rigorous testing, honest supply-chain practices, clear claims governance and targeted support to ensure that small traditional makers are not left behind. India’s youth — armed with incubation, science and modern marketing — are well placed to translate centuries of culinary and medicinal knowledge into compliant, modern food brands that can sell both in India and abroad.
If you are an entrepreneur, a student or an investor interested in this emerging space, the first practical step is simple: visit FoSCoS, review the new KoB guidance and check whether your product matches the Category A list published by FSSAI. From there, incubators, testing labs and a growing ecosystem of support can help translate a recipe into a regulated product and, with luck and diligence, into a global brand.
Key official documents and further reading (selected)
PIB press release: FSSAI Launches Licensing Framework for manufacturing of Ayurveda Aahara on FoSCoS Portal, 25 Sep 2025.
FSSAI order and KoB guidance (FoSCoS PDFs and regulatory notes; New KoB “Ayurveda Aahara”, FC 102).
FSSAI FoSCoS standard product listing (FC 102 — Ayurveda Aahara).
India AYUSH sector overview (IBEF / Invest India).
India Ayurvedic products market report (UnivDatos: ~USD 9.17 billion, 2024).
Probiotics / functional foods trend (IBEF / Economic Times reporting on the India probiotics market).
EU Novel Foods Regulation (Reg. 2015/2283) and EFSA guidance.
US regulatory framework for dietary supplements (DSHEA / FDA overview).
WHO Traditional Medicine Strategy (2014–2023).
Studies documenting heavy-metal contamination and adulteration risk in some herbal/Ayurvedic preparations.
AIIA incubation and Ministry of AYUSH startup initiatives.
Hidden AI Tax: How U.S. Households Are Paying for Big Tech’s Electricity — And What India Can Learn
A New Kind of Electricity Shock
In 2025, American households faced an unexpected shock. Electricity bills were climbing by double digits, even as families consumed less power. In Maine, usage fell by around 7 percent compared to the previous year, and in New Jersey, by 6 percent. Yet in both states, the average household electricity bill rose by nearly 17 percent.
This paradox — paying more for less — puzzled many. But experts traced it to an invisible mechanism in the U.S. electricity market: capacity auctions. These auctions, designed to guarantee grid reliability, have become the vehicle through which households are indirectly funding the energy hunger of Big Tech’s sprawling artificial intelligence (AI) data centers. This phenomenon has been aptly described as a “Hidden AI Tax.”
The U.S. System: Capacity Auctions Explained
To understand how this hidden tax operates, one must first grasp the difference between two markets in the U.S. power sector.
Energy Market: This is straightforward. Power plants sell electricity by the kilowatt-hour (kWh), and customers pay for what they actually use.
Capacity Market: Here, plants are paid not for actual electricity delivered but simply for being available if needed. In other words, they are compensated for “standing by.” Even if a household uses less power, these costs are still collected and passed on in their bills.
Grid operators such as PJM Interconnection (which covers New Jersey and 12 other states) and ISO-New England (which covers Maine and neighboring states) conduct annual capacity auctions to ensure that enough reliable supply is always on call.
For years, these auction prices were modest. In PJM, for example, clearing prices stood at just $28.92 per megawatt-day in 2024. But in the very next auction for the 2025–26 year, prices shot up nearly tenfold to $269.92/MW-day, and then jumped again to $329.17/MW-day for 2026–27. In New England, Forward Capacity Auctions cleared at around $2.61 per kilowatt-month — a 31 percent increase over the prior round.
The result: capacity costs ballooned, and households were saddled with higher bills, regardless of their actual consumption.
The AI Boom and Data Centers’ Hunger for Power
What triggered such extraordinary spikes? The most important factor is the explosion of AI and hyperscale data centers.
Training advanced AI models like GPT-4 or GPT-5 requires thousands of graphics processing units (GPUs) operating around the clock. Each GPU consumes as much electricity as a high-end appliance. Multiply this by tens of thousands, and a single AI data center can demand 100 to 500 megawatts — equivalent to the load of a small city.
In Northern Virginia, known as “Data Center Alley,” Amazon, Microsoft, Google, and Meta operate vast server farms. Analysts note that data centers account for the overwhelming majority of PJM’s projected demand growth. Their requirements are unique: round-the-clock, firm, and non-negotiable. To ensure reliability for such concentrated loads, grid operators must procure significantly more standby capacity.
This surge in demand forecasts drove auction prices sharply higher. Because capacity costs are socialized, the extra burden landed on all customers — especially households. In effect, American families were helping subsidize Big Tech’s electricity appetite. This is the Hidden AI Tax in action.
Historical Trends and Market Dynamics
The story becomes clearer when viewed in historical context.
2018–2021: Capacity prices were relatively stable, often below $100/MW-day in PJM.
2022–2024: Prices dipped to historic lows, with one auction clearing at under $30/MW-day.
2025 onward: As data center growth accelerated and more aging coal and gas plants retired, auction prices skyrocketed nearly tenfold.
Other drivers compounded the trend. Interconnection queues for new renewable and storage projects created delays in bringing fresh supply online. Market rule changes tightened the accreditation of intermittent sources like solar and wind, requiring more “firm” capacity to meet reserve margins. In New England, winter fuel security concerns also added to costs.
The players in this market are diverse: Big Tech companies demanding new supply, generator owners retiring plants or bidding higher, regulators like PJM and ISO-NE balancing reliability, and consumers ultimately footing the bill. The winners are capacity sellers and investors; the losers are households with inflated electricity bills.
India’s Power Sector: A Different Model
Could India face a similar fate? The short answer: possible, but not inevitable.
India’s electricity sector is structured differently. Power distribution is handled largely by state-owned DISCOMs (distribution companies). These entities purchase electricity through long-term power purchase agreements (PPAs) with generators, often spanning 20–25 years. Prices are regulated by state electricity commissions (SERCs) under central guidelines (CERC).
A defining feature of India’s tariff system is cross-subsidy. Industrial and commercial customers typically pay higher tariffs, while households and agricultural users receive subsidized rates. In contrast to the U.S., where households are subsidizing industrial data center growth, India’s system shifts more burden onto industry to shield domestic consumers.
Moreover, India does not yet have a mature, nationwide capacity auction market like PJM. Capacity payments exist but account for only a modest share of overall costs — estimated at around 10 percent. Policy discussions are ongoing about introducing capacity mechanisms to ensure reliability as renewable penetration increases.
India’s Data Center Boom
India’s situation is changing rapidly. Data center capacity in India has grown from about 350 megawatts in 2019 to over 1,000 MW by 2024, and projections suggest it could reach 1,800 MW by 2026. Key hubs include Mumbai, Navi Mumbai, Hyderabad, Noida, Chennai, and Bengaluru.
With government incentives, the rollout of 5G and cloud services, and localization policies, India is positioning itself as a data center and AI hub. This raises a critical question: will India follow the U.S. path, where household bills are inflated by industrial demand, or can it chart a different course?
Power Grid Corporation of India Limited: The Backbone
One of India’s strengths lies in its robust transmission backbone, operated by Power Grid Corporation of India Limited (PGCIL).
PGCIL owns and operates over 176,000 circuit kilometers of high-voltage transmission lines and more than 400 substations, covering around 85 percent of India’s inter-state transmission capacity. With system availability consistently above 99.7 percent, PGCIL ranks among the most reliable operators globally.
Crucially, through projects like the Green Energy Corridors, PGCIL is enabling the integration of over 20 gigawatts of renewable capacity into the national grid. This infrastructure allows renewable power from Rajasthan’s deserts or Tamil Nadu’s coasts to be transmitted efficiently to urban and industrial centers, including future data hubs.
By ensuring both reliability and sustainability, PGCIL acts as a safeguard against the kind of localized shortages and bottlenecks that have driven U.S. capacity auction prices so high.
Implications for Indian Youth
For India’s youth, the Hidden AI Tax story offers several lessons and opportunities.
First, it highlights the importance of energy economics as a policy choice. Electricity tariffs are not just technical matters but political decisions about who pays and who benefits. An informed generation can demand transparency and fairness.
Second, it signals career opportunities. The rapid transformation of India’s power sector is opening paths in smart grid engineering, renewable integration, AI-driven energy optimization, and policy analysis.
Third, it calls for activism. Youth voices in public hearings, petitions, and regulatory consultations can influence how new capacity costs are allocated. If citizens remain silent, households may eventually bear the burden, as in the U.S.
Finally, it invites entrepreneurship. Startups focused on rooftop solar, battery storage, demand response, and renewable solutions for data centers can play a crucial role in shaping a fairer digital economy.
Toward Optimistic Solutions
The good news is that India still has a chance to design a better model. Several solutions stand out:
- Mandating renewable energy for data centers: Ensure hyperscale loads procure 100 percent renewable-backed supply through long-term contracts.
- Fair tariff design: Allocate incremental capacity costs directly to large industrial consumers rather than households.
- Smart grids and storage: Scale up battery systems and demand response to avoid auction price spikes.
- Transparent capacity mechanisms: If India adopts capacity markets, they should be designed with safeguards ensuring that new large loads bear their share of the costs.
- Youth participation: Encourage young Indians to shape the future through careers, activism, and entrepreneurship in the energy sector.
Conclusion: Who Pays for the Digital Future?
The rise of AI is reshaping not just technology but also energy systems. In the United States, the cost of powering data centers is already being passed onto households in the form of inflated electricity bills. The Hidden AI Tax is a warning signal.
India has the advantage of hindsight. With strong transmission infrastructure, regulated tariffs, and cross-subsidies, it is better positioned to shield households. Yet with the rapid growth of AI and data centers, complacency could still lead to similar pitfalls.
Ultimately, the choice lies with policymakers and the rising generation. The digital future will certainly demand more power. The real question is: who will pay the bill?
Manipur’s Journey Toward Peace: From Conflict to Connection
In September 2025, Manipur stands at a delicate but hopeful turning point. The state, which has seen years of unrest and violent ethnic clashes, is witnessing a new phase of cautious optimism. The renewal of the Suspension of Operations agreement, the reopening of the Imphal–Dimapur highway, the efforts of political leaders to restore a popular government, and the simple sight of locals playing cricket with security forces have all become symbols of a community attempting to heal. The journey toward peace in Manipur is far from complete, but what is happening today carries meaning that extends far beyond the state’s borders.
The Suspension of Operations agreement, often abbreviated as SoO, forms the bedrock of this current chapter. At its simplest, it is a ceasefire pact, an agreement that places weapons aside and opens the door to dialogue. First signed in August 2008 between the Government of India, the Manipur state government, and 25 Kuki insurgent groups, it set down basic ground rules. Armed cadres were moved into designated camps. Their weapons were placed under a double-lock system, one key kept by the groups and the other by security forces. Recruitment was halted, parades were banned, and most importantly, both sides agreed to sit across the table instead of meeting across a battlefield. For years the agreement held, though not without violations. At times the state government withdrew, accusing groups of breaking ground rules, but the central government kept channels open. In its most recent revision in September 2025, the SoO agreement included fresh commitments. Camps were relocated, weapons were surrendered, stipends for former militants were linked to Aadhaar cards, and a time-bound roadmap for political dialogue was included. These new terms represent a more structured attempt to ensure that peace efforts move forward with accountability.
While agreements form the framework, political dynamics shape their sustainability. The state has been under President’s Rule, which means that governance has been directed from the centre, but behind the scenes conversations have been accelerating. At the Raj Bhavan in Imphal, Governor Ajay Kumar Bhalla held a high-level meeting with BJP legislators, including former chief minister N. Biren Singh and the Assembly Speaker Th. Satyabrata Singh. The gathering lasted less than an hour, but its message was loud. The BJP, with 20 to 23 legislators actively participating, is signaling readiness to form a new government. Residential meetings among party MLAs have also taken place, including one hosted by legislator Kongkham Robindro Singh, where the theme of restoring a popular government dominated. BJP legislator Thokchom Radheshyam has gone so far as to declare that 44 MLAs, including allies from NPP, NPF, JD(U), and independents, are prepared to stake claim. The timing is crucial, for Prime Minister Narendra Modi is scheduled to visit Imphal on September 13, and speculation has been rife that his arrival could be the catalyst for a formal political reset. Opposition voices, such as Congress MLA Thokchom Lokeshwar, have urged that the Prime Minister meet all legislators and even visit violence-hit districts. These calls underline the importance of inclusivity in any future settlement.
Security operations have meanwhile remained active across the state. In Tengnoupal district, six insurgents were arrested in early September, four of them belonging to groups along the Indo-Myanmar border. The operation was based on intelligence inputs and targeted those involved in extortion and other criminal activity. In Imphal East, six more militants, including members of the People’s Liberation Army, were taken into custody and a cache of weapons ranging from pistols and shotguns to grenades was seized. Such actions underline that while peace talks continue, law enforcement remains on high alert. The government has also extended the services of over ten thousand Village Defence Force personnel until March 2026, strengthening local security. The symbolic reopening of the Imphal–Dimapur highway, also known as National Highway 2, was welcomed as a step toward normalcy. Yet restrictions remain in place, and groups have clarified that movement across buffer zones is not entirely free. This illustrates the complexity of balancing hope with caution in a state still recovering from trauma.
Amid these formal processes and security maneuvers, the most powerful symbol of progress came not from government orders or police operations but from ordinary people. On 7 September 2025, in a neighborhood of Imphal, locals were seen playing cricket with security forces. It was a simple game, bat and ball passed around in the afternoon light, but its meaning was profound. Cricket in Manipur, like across India, is more than just a sport. It is a language of joy and belonging. For those who watched and those who played, the match carried the unspoken message that trust is slowly being rebuilt. For years, security forces had been seen as outsiders or enforcers. Sharing a game with them showed a willingness to see them as partners in community life. This moment captured the possibility of reconciliation in a way that words or agreements could not.
Manipur’s story is not unique in the global landscape. Across the world, sports and cultural practices have been used as instruments of healing in post-conflict societies. In Rwanda, the Kwibuka T20 women’s cricket tournament was created as a way to honor the memory of genocide victims and to build unity through sport. In Bosnia after the war, Open Fun Football Schools provided children from divided ethnic communities the opportunity to play together and break barriers. In London, an interfaith cricket match called Peace at the Crease brought teams from different religious backgrounds together on the pitch. In the Middle East, the Peres Center for Peace ran sports schools that paired Palestinian and Israeli children in joint teams. In Northern Ireland, initiatives like Beyond the Ball used football to connect youth across political divides. The United Nations itself has recognized the value of sport, weaving it into global strategies for preventing extremism and fostering inclusion. These international experiences show that what happened in Imphal with a bat and a ball is part of a wider story. Sports can achieve what politics alone often cannot: they bring people into direct, joyful contact where divisions fade, even if only for a while.
Central to Manipur’s journey are its young people. Youth across the state have not been passive observers. They are participating in programs designed to turn them into peacebuilders in their own communities. A locally sponsored youth peacebuilding fellowship has been launched to train young leaders over a year-long program. Organizations like Youth for Peace International have conducted workshops on non-violent communication, negotiation, and self-awareness, equipping over eighty young people with practical tools for conflict resolution. Regional collaborations are also taking shape. In Dimapur, youth leaders from Nagaland, Mizoram, and Manipur gathered to discuss the importance of mutual understanding and collective action. At the grassroots level, sports academies in Imphal are offering free training to children, keeping them engaged in productive pursuits and away from the dangers of drugs or extremism. Cultural festivals, such as the revived Shirui Lily Festival, are once again drawing young people from diverse communities into spaces of shared music, dance, and athletic competition. Even more significantly, in August 2025, members of the Kuki community represented by Thadou Inpi sat down in Imphal with Meitei civil society groups and student organizations for the first time since the outbreak of violence in 2023. Youth voices were included in this dialogue, marking a critical step toward reconciliation.
The broader lesson from Manipur’s unfolding story is that peace is never the result of a single action. It is built piece by piece, through agreements at the highest levels, through firm security measures on the ground, through small but meaningful human gestures, and through the energy of the young. Each element supports the other. The SoO agreement may set the framework, but it is meaningless without trust on the ground. Security operations may remove immediate threats, but they cannot heal wounds without cultural and community bridges. Youth programs may train leaders, but they need a larger political climate that allows dialogue to flourish. When all these pieces align, the possibility of a lasting peace becomes real.
Manipur today is not a place free of tension, but it is a place where hope is visible. The cricket match between locals and security forces is not the end of the story, but it is a beginning. The return of cultural festivals signals resilience. The willingness of political leaders to meet and of opposition voices to demand inclusivity points to a growing recognition that governance must serve all communities. The commitment of young people to build peace shows that the future will not simply be a repetition of the past. In the hills where the Shirui Lily blooms, in the markets of Imphal, in the laughter of children learning football or cricket, Manipur is writing a new narrative. It is a story of recovery, of coexistence, and of people who refuse to let conflict be the final word.











