
In today s India, an Instagram account can become politically influential faster than a political movement can cross a district on foot or bicycle. A meme can travel farther than a manifesto. In today’s India, an Instagram account can become politically influential faster than a political movement can cross a district on foot or bicycle. A meme can travel farther than a manifesto. A reel can reach more people in an hour than months of ground mobilisation. That contrast says something important about the political culture we are entering. Last February, in the eastern Uttar Pradesh district of Deoria, a Gen Z youth named Jai Maurya was cycling across villages for MGNREGA workers. Now, social media is flooded with discussions around the Cockroach Janta Party, an online phenomenon that rapidly gained visibility among young Indians. Its follower count grew at an astonishing speed. Citing national-security concerns, the Intelligence Bureau has got its account on X withheld in India. The two developments belong to different worlds. One emerged from the internet, the other from the road. Yet placing them side by side reveals an important shift in how politics is increasingly experienced by young Indians. When I later watched Jai’s video, something stayed with me. The veins in his neck were stretched with exhaustion. His breathing was uneven. There was no dramatic soundtrack, no carefully edited frame, no influencer-like performance. He was not acting for a screen. He was carrying politics on his body. The concern is not that young people are angry. India faces unemployment, expensive education, rising living costs and growing uncertainty about the future. Political frustration among the youth is neither surprising nor illegitimate. The more important question is what forms this anger now takes, what ideological direction it acquires, and whether digital politics is encouraging participation or merely visibility. Jai belongs to the first educated generation in his family. His father is a welder. His mother ran a small general store to pay his fees. Jai would return from school and help at the family shop. This is also the story of caste, class and inherited privilege. Some inherit confidence, language and networks. Others inherit labour and responsibility. Jai was not alone. Fifteen young people, all university graduates and all part of Gen Z, led this month-long cycle yatra. You may not know that economist Jean Drèze cycled with them for part of the route. You may not know that these young people travelled nearly 1,200 kilometres across eastern UP between January and February 2026, moving through Chauri Chaura, Gorakhpur, Deoria, Ballia, Mau, Ghazipur and finally Varanasi. Every day, they cycled between 25 and 35 kilometres and spoke to workers in several villages. Local political workers often arranged food. They sat in chaupals, discussed migration, delayed wages and rural employment. Their yatra also had an Instagram account. In one month, it gained barely 500 followers. But the participants did not seem especially disturbed by that. And perhaps that is the larger political question of our time: Has