India is a land of great aspirations and equally complicated problems. With 1.4 billion people, this nation is alive. Two-thirds of our population are under thirty-five; half of us are under twenty-five. Our future and indeed that of the world rests on whether we can help convert this demographic output into a dividend or will it become a disaster.
Education will play a large part in determining this.
But we need not look any further than our own history. About 500 BCE, Taxila was a great example. Students travelled from far and wide to study stars, ethics, and archery there. But since 75+ years somehow we’ve not been able to build one institution that is at par with the best universities across the world.
Today, we’ve got 1.5 million schools and a huge budget of ₹1.13 lakh crore for education. About 78% of our population can read and write, which sounds impressive.
Many say, since 1950, when India gained its freedom from British control and promised education for all—we have come a great distance.
However, the truth stings, though: 35% drop before tenth grade and 26 million children hardly ever enter a classroom. In villages, schools limp along with one teacher juggling 100+ students.
I once visited a school in Maharashtra—picture this: one tiny room, a roof that dripped when it rained, and 50 kids crammed together, sharing a few torn books. The children squinted to see the teacher’s scribbles on a faded blackboard. Still, their smiles were broad and their voices carried hope. Then I discovered a different world in Mumbai: an air-conditioned coaching centre with rows of students memorising answers like robots and brilliant screens. Two Indias, side by side—one with too many opportunities and one bereft of any facility.
Our economy is ₹3.55 lakh crore strong, but it needs skilled people to keep growing. Only 5% of our youth have real job skills, while China has 20% and Japan has 40%. This year, the government gave ₹10,000 crore to colleges and tech programs—great news! But a village school might get just ₹50,000 a year. That’s barely enough for chalk, a desk, and maybe a cup of tea for the teacher for the year. Nearly 1,00,000 teacher jobs are sitting empty, and the ones we have are stretched thin.
The 2020 education policy says kids should learn crafts by age eight and job skills by twelve. It’s a fresh idea, a way to mix old wisdom with new needs. Since 2018, a program called Samagra Shiksha has poured ₹60,000 crore into schools, building classrooms and training teachers. In India, where Tamil Nadu kids ace global tests, and in Kerala, libraries burst with books, in the same India, we have Uttar Pradesh, where 15% of schools lack bathrooms, or Rajasthan, where girls walk great distances to study.
It’s a tug-of-war between progress and problems. And the ones that come from good educational backgrounds are fleeing overseas. 1.5 million left India last year, taking ₹50,000 crore with them. It’s like our talent is slipping through our fingers.
Parents sell land for coaching fees, kids study until their eyes blur, and leaders bicker over petty religious-based politics while schools flood. Last Parliament session, they spent ₹40 crore arguing—enough for 400 village libraries. Our education system is like an old cart, creaking along while the world zooms past.
So, how do we fix it? Money for labs and grants is a start, but it’s not enough—like a small bandage on a big cut. We need teachers in those empty spots, internet in villages, and schools that spark ideas, not just exam scores. But it’s not all on the government. Civil society must step up and do its bit.
India gave the world zero; we can’t settle for nothing now. Education should ignite minds, not just fill them.
Our schools aren’t failing—they’re pleading. Pleading for us to act, to turn dusty blackboards into beacons.
Small steps could start it all. Like that Maharashtra teacher staying late to help, or an NGO in Rajasthan building a girls’ dorm. Parents could ease up on the pressure, letting kids dream beyond being a doctor or an engineer.
We’ve sent rockets to Mars—why not rebuild our classrooms? That kid with the slate in a village keeps me hoping. Maybe someone will change things. But he needs us—teachers, leaders, me, you—to make it happen.
The bell’s ringing—let’s answer it.