The Country of Heroes, The Shortage of Civic Sense

India is a country full of heroes.

We have heroes in politics, heroes in cricket, heroes in Bollywood, and heroes in religion. 

Occasionally, one talented individual manages to become all four at the same time.

Admiring achievers is normal. Every society celebrates success.

But in India admiration often upgrades into devotion. And devotion has a strange side effect, it quietly deletes something called civic sense.

The moment a hero appears, common sense politely leaves the building.

Last Sunday I was stuck in a traffic jam just 500 meters from my home.

Not an accident.

Not road construction.

Not even a VIP convoy.

A giant screen had been installed to show the Cricket World Cup match.

Cars were parked in the middle of the road. Bikes were abandoned like second class citizens.

A crowd had gathered as if the street had officially been converted into a stadium.

Apparently, the road had taken a short break from being a road.

At that moment I started wondering if our education system made a small mistake.  

Maybe we gave too many marks to History and very few to Civic Sense.

The irony is beautiful.

Many people today learn history from WhatsApp forwards, and the same people passionately complain that others lack civic sense.

India truly is a land of remarkable talent.

We can block an entire road for cricket and still lecture the world about discipline.

Cricket in India is not just a sport. It is a national emotion.

When the team wins, players become gods. Posters are worshipped. Commentators announce that the pride of the nation has been restored.

We have even seen stampedes and loss of life during victory celebrations in Bangalore. Some people say it shows poor civic sense. Others argue it has less to do with the public and more to do with crowd management, planning, and administration. 

When the team loses, the same gods quickly become villains. Posters are burned, televisions suffer tragic accidents, and traffic jams return to the streets.

Apparently the future of the nation depends on whether a ball swings two inches left or right.

The pattern repeats in politics.

In a healthy democracy, citizens question politicians.

In India, many citizens defend politicians the way families defend troublesome relatives at weddings.

Supporters march on the streets, banners appear across traffic signals, and rallies create traffic jams.

If a politician is accused of corruption, supporters already know the truth.

Not because they checked the evidence.

But because their hero cannot possibly be wrong.

Sometimes loyalty becomes even more enthusiastic. Buses are burned, public property is damaged, and roads are blocked.

A fascinating style of patriotism emerges to support a leader, we first destroy the country’s infrastructure.

Religion provides its own contribution to civic creativity.

Every religion in India teaches discipline, peace, and compassion.

Yet devotion sometimes arrives with plastic waste, traffic blockades, and loudspeakers powerful enough to wake people in three neighbouring districts.

Processions stop traffic. Festivals generate mountains of garbage.

And then there are the rivers.

Rivers in India are worshipped as mothers and goddesses. People fold hands, offer prayers, and take holy dips with deep devotion.

And what does science often find in the same water?

High levels of fecal coliform (मल-मूत्र)

So while we worship the river as divine, we also manage to treat it like a drainage system.

Devotion is pure.

The water, unfortunately, is not.

Their gods may be forgiving them. The internet rarely does.

Thanks to smartphones, these moments travel instantly across the world.

Videos appear online showing fans fighting, roads blocked during celebrations, rivers polluted in the name of ritual, and crowds behaving as if civic rules are optional suggestions.

To outsiders it must look fascinating.

A country capable of launching satellites into space sometimes struggles with standing quietly in a queue.

It is an impressive combination.

Sometimes I wonder why hero worship is so popular.

Perhaps because it is very convenient.

If one hero represents the nation, citizens are free from small and boring responsibilities like questioning authority, thinking critically, or following basic rules.

Why obey traffic signals when devotion is more important?

Why stand in line when enthusiasm is clearly patriotic?

Why read policies when shouting slogans feels far more satisfying?

Heroes simplify life.

Civic sense complicates it.

India does not lack heroes. In fact, we have a healthy surplus.

What we occasionally lack is the ability to admire them without switching off our brains.

Respecting achievement is admirable.

Blind devotion “अंधभक्ति” is less helpful, especially when it replaces basic civic behaviour.

Because in the end, a country is not judged only by its heroes.

It is judged by how its citizens behave in public spaces, in traffic, and during celebrations.