Watching a nation of fewer than 50,000 people—a country appearing in its first-ever FIFA World Cup—pushing the reigning champions to the brink for 110 minutes was a masterclass in what a focused, unified society can achieve. For nearly two hours of grueling football, it was a 2-2 draw. It was a display of heart, strategy, and collective effort. I’m not from there, but I found myself wishing I was.

It’s a stark, painful contrast to the state of Indian football, where we’ve somehow mastered the art of losing to Nepal and Bangladesh in the qualifying rounds.

It makes you wonder: why can a tiny island nation foster the discipline and unity required to compete on the world stage, while a country of over a billion people is instead preoccupied with tearing itself apart?

The answer, unfortunately, is as visible as it is tragic. While other nations are investing in their youth and their infrastructure, our most "famous" influencers—those with millions of followers and pockets lined with YouTube ad revenue—are running a masterclass in professionalized bigotry.

They’ve discovered that teaching hatred toward minorities, and manufacturing venom for our neighbors in Pakistan and Bangladesh, is far more profitable than talking about why our national team can’t beat Nepal. The BJP has weaponized this, injecting a slow-acting poison into the minds of the electorate to win elections by keeping everyone at each other's throats.

When you look at the follower counts on these hate-spewing channels, you start to fear the country has gone completely insane. An uneducated, frustrated population is being fed a steady diet of hysteria because it’s easier to control people who have lost the ability to distinguish between right and wrong.

It’s a brilliant, cynical strategy for the party in power, but it’s a suicide pact for the country. We are trading our potential, our global standing, and our social fabric for the temporary high of religious division. 

Sometimes, I look at that scoreboard—Cape Verde 2, Argentina 3—and I don't just see a football match. I see a mirror reflecting everything we aren't, and I find myself wondering exactly where this path is leading us.

Given that you see this diversion of national energy as the primary barrier to India reaching its potential, do you see any realistic pathway—perhaps through intellectual or civic leadership—for the country to reclaim a narrative based on merit and unity rather than division?

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By Nisith Dey

The Reserve Bank of India (RBI) recently launched an FCNR deposit scheme—running until September 30, 2026—in an attempt to attract dollar inflows. While the mechanics of the scheme are presented as a win-win, a deeper look reveals a strategy that ignores fundamental risk management principles and potentially places the entire Indian banking sector in peril.

How the Scheme Operates

The mechanism is straightforward:

The Deposit: An NRI deposits $100 in an FCNR account for a three-year term at 6.5% interest.

The Swap: The Indian bank swaps these dollars with the RBI for Rupees at the prevailing exchange rate.

The Hedging: To mitigate the risk of the dollar strengthening against the Rupee, the bank must hedge. The RBI has essentially signaled it will subsidize this hedging cost, effectively bearing the exchange rate risk.

The Lending: Crucially, the RBI has waived statutory liquidity requirements for these funds, allowing banks to lend out 100% of the Rupee equivalent.

The Missing Link: Regulatory Rigor

Proponents might point to the U.S. banking system, where reserve requirements are low. However, that comparison is fundamentally flawed. In the U.S., the lack of reserve requirements is balanced by rigorous capital adequacy frameworks, stress testing, and the CCAR (Comprehensive Capital Analysis and Review) process.

Having worked on CCAR processes for international banks, I know firsthand the intensity of these requirements. They are designed to ensure that even under severe economic stress, a bank has sufficient capital to absorb losses. Indian banks currently lack an equivalent, battle-tested framework.

If a bank is not forced to hold liquid assets, they will chase yield to cover the 6.5% interest cost they owe the NRI, leading to the accumulation of high-risk assets that cannot be liquidated in a crisis.

The Anatomy of the Risk

We must address the structural fragility this policy creates: The Fallacy of "Zero Reserve" Equivalence: In the US, zero-reserve banking works because regulators force banks to model total market collapses. In India, telling a bank they can lend out 100% of these deposits is akin to removing the brakes from a car because you trust the driver to not encounter any hills.

Systemic Contagion: Indian banks are highly interconnected. If a major institution over-leverages itself on these FCNR-backed loans, the moment a cluster of defaults occurs, the interbank market will freeze. This creates a "too big to fail" trap that could necessitate a massive, taxpayer-funded bailout.

The Hedging Illusion: The RBI’s promise to cover hedging costs is an unfunded fiscal liability. By suppressing the market cost of hedging—which acts as a signal of currency pressure—the RBI is masking risk rather than managing it.

Why Take This Risk?

This brings us to the core issue: Why is the RBI resorting to such drastic measures?
The signs of strain—including net FDI outflows turning negative—have been visible for over a year. The logical, orthodox response would have been to raise interest rates to protect the Rupee and curb inflation. Instead, it appears that short-term political optics took precedence over sound monetary policy during election cycles.

By avoiding necessary rate hikes, the RBI has opted for a "desperation premium." What could have been solved by a measured 50–100 basis point hike is now necessitating high-risk interventions that could cost the economy far more in the long run. We are effectively choosing short-term currency management over the long-term health of our financial institutions.

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