"Speak to the youth!" said one old man to another.

So, they found a radio, adjusted the microphone, cleared their throats and began speaking.

Unfortunately, most of the youth listening were over fifty.

Old man, while you were travelling around the globe, hugging and shaking hands with other old men and women, posing for photographs and telling one another how wonderfully you were leading your countries, the world back home changed.

The young no longer wait beside radios for wisdom to descend from above. They carry the world in their pockets. Before you finish making a claim, they have checked it. Before your spokesperson finishes denying something, they have found the video. Before you manufacture history, they have searched for the truth.

Old men of India, communication has changed.

Traditions are being questioned. Rules are being examined. Authority is no longer automatically respected merely because it arrives with flashing lights, a convoy and policemen pushing everyone aside.

You may shut down the internet, but you cannot shut down young minds. You may threaten them, arrest them or send brutal policemen to beat them, but every lash creates fifty more rebels who question your methods.

And questions frighten rulers who have survived on imposing silence.
You pretend to understand artificial intelligence by cheating, displaying some Chinese robot, and expecting the nation to applaud. The young do not need such theatre. They already use technology to study, create, organise, expose lies and communicate across barriers you desperately keep building.

You cheat because you think nobody is watching.

They watch.

You are corrupt because you believe corruption has become normal.

They have had enough.

You offer preference, patronage and political favour. They ask why merit cannot be the criterion. They want opportunities, not speeches. They want jobs, not slogans. They want leaders who understand tomorrow, not men endlessly describing yesterday.

The tragedy is not that you are old. Age can bring wisdom, patience and perspective. The tragedy is that you have mistaken age for entitlement and power for immortality.

The youth are not asking you to become young. They are asking you to understand that you are foolish.

They will not salute every foolish order. They will not believe every political message. They will not remain grateful for crumbs while watching banquets being enjoyed by those in power.

So, old men of India, listen carefully. The world has changed. Go home gracefully. And if you have no home to return to, build an old folk's home together. Sit comfortably, play recordings of how obedient the world once was, and smile at the memories.

But please do not mistake those recordings for the present.

That world is over.

And the young are already building the next one, in which you have no part to play...