To describe how globally interdependent we have become is well-nigh impossible. Just last week, we were discussing how the war, though being waged in a different region, would come to affect the residents here, regardless of how disconnected or apathetic they are to the international scene. And then, in response to potential supply chain disruptions from the West Asian conflict, the government announced on March 8, 2026, a strict policy prioritising domestic LPG cooking gas.

Invoking the Essential Commodities Act, 1955, the government has implemented several temporary measures to ensure that 33+ crore households have an uninterrupted supply of LPG. Refineries are instructed to maximise LPG production by utilising available propane and butane streams, increasing output by 28%.

Public and private refineries are required to channel their entire LPG output exclusively to public sector oil marketing companies (IOCL, BPCL, HPCL) for household consumers. The use of propane and butane for petrochemical manufacturing is restricted to ensure domestic gas availability.

The minimum gap between two cylinder bookings has been increased to prevent hoarding. Consumers in urban areas must wait at least 25 days, while those in rural areas must wait 45 days. While commercial supplies are restricted, hospitals and educational institutions have been placed on an uninterrupted priority supply list.

To reduce dependence on West Asia, the government is diversifying its supply sources, including a new 2.2 million tonne import contract from the US Gulf Coast.

We are witnesses to a historic moment when war in the Gulf has literally spilt into our kitchens.

The Strait of Hormuz, through which a substantial proportion of the world's liquefied petroleum gas shipments transit, has suddenly assumed a quotidian relevance for millions of households that would otherwise never have heard its name. A maritime chokepoint thousands of kilometres away now determines whether a homemaker can light the stove or a roadside vendor can prepare the morning's tea. One could say that what was once the domain of only diplomats and strategic analysts has intruded unceremoniously into banal routines.

Such moments expose the fragility of modern supply chains, whose complexity often conceals their vulnerability. The global energy system operates through a labyrinthine network of shipping routes, storage terminals, refineries and distribution nodes. A disruption in one segment sets off a cascade of consequences across continents.

For decades, policymakers have spoken of energy security as a strategic imperative. Yet its meaning becomes truly intelligible only when scarcity looms at the level of everyday consumption. The present crisis has compelled the state to exercise regulatory authority with unusual vigour, invoking statutory provisions that normally lie dormant.

Whether these measures will prove adequate remains uncertain. Markets are rarely amenable to administrative diktat, and prolonged disruptions in maritime trade could strain the system further. If rumours are anything to go by, the US seems intent on keeping the offensive mounted. This war will, voluntarily or otherwise, keep offering an open reminder that the comforts of globalisation rest upon a precarious equilibrium which cannot be built upon political turpitude.