Privilege Pandemic

If India truly believes in its democratic values, then breaking the grip of the VIP pass syndrome is the first, unavoidable step, says Priyabrat Biswal

IN India, the notion of equality frequently finds itself challenged — not by laws, but by habits, by entitlement, and by a culture we have allowed to nurture quietly over decades. Among the most visible and least questioned forms of everyday inequality is the VIP pass culture that dominates our religious festivals, sports events, dance and music festivals, literary gatherings, exhibitions, and even government programmes. The most telling symptom of this culture is the unchecked demand for complimentary passes, which have become the unofficial currency of privilege.

Whenever a major event — state-run, corporate, or private — takes place, thousands queue up to buy tickets or wait patiently for their turn. But a certain class of people rarely sees those queues. They simply demand what they call “complimentary passes,” as if it were a natural right bestowed upon them by their social status. Politicians, bureaucrats, their families, and those orbiting around power circles treat free entry like an emblem of prestige. What was once a token of courtesy has quietly evolved into an entitlement, and now, an instrument of discrimination.

This year’s world-famous Puri Rath Yatra was a sobering lesson. Allegations emerged that the festival’s mismanagement was directly linked to the massive and indiscriminate issuance of VIP cordon passes — some of which were rumoured to have been sold illegally. Instead of facilitating order, the VIP culture created confusion, crowding, and resentment among ordinary devotees. The festival, meant to embody humility and equality, was overshadowed by a hierarchy of access created entirely by human beings.

The irony becomes sharper in religious settings. When VVIPs arrive for darshan, they are ushered in through exclusive corridors, even as common devotees stand in long lines under the sun. Administrations justify this in the name of security, but this defence raises a fundamental question: if an individual feels so unsafe that a temple visit requires taxpayers’ money, manpower, and elaborate protocol, should they visit at all? If their devotion is genuine, they should be willing to stand as any other believer does. And if they fear that even God cannot keep them safe in His own abode, the taxpayer should not bear the cost of their insecurities.

The story is not different in sports and entertainment. In stadiums and concert halls, a sizeable portion of seats is quietly siphoned off as complimentary passes before the public ever gets a chance to buy them. These tickets, which could have generated significant revenue for organisers, artists, or sports bodies, are instead handed out as favours to political offices, bureaucrats, corporate circles, and social elites. If someone has a genuine passion for cricket or music, buying a ticket should not be considered beneath them. Passion becomes hollow when it comes free merely because of status.

Privilege extends even to cultural spaces. At book launches, many VIPs expect complimentary copies as though they were their birthright. Those who hand out these copies often do so in the hope of influence, access, or favours. Such exchanges erode the democratic spirit that should guide India’s cultural landscape. This normalisation of entitlements teaches society that inequality is acceptable in small ways, which then accumulate into large distortions.

Why does India tolerate this culture so easily? Part of the answer lies in our own temperament. Indians are generous; we enjoy extending hospitality and offering gifts. But when hospitality becomes compulsory for the powerful, it turns into exploitation. Over time, people start believing that VIP culture — particularly the omnipresent “complimentary pass culture” — is normal. Organisers treat VIP attendance as an achievement, administrators fear upsetting them, and the general public grows resigned to its existence. But resignation is not acceptance. And acceptance must never form the backbone of a democracy.

The hidden cost of this culture is immense. Every VIP convoy drains public funds through security arrangements, fuel, barricades, and manpower. Every special darshan requires administrative reallocation of resources. Every complimentary pass deprives a paying person of access. In each case, public money and public dignity take the hit. The most corrosive effect is psychological: people internalise discrimination and learn to see it as a natural order.

Reforming this culture demands changes at several levels. Public events must adopt stricter controls on complimentary passes, supported by transparent systems where the number of passes issued and their recipients are publicly declared. Transparency alone can significantly reduce misuse. Religious institutions need to move away from special corridors and privileged access, except in genuine emergencies. Devotion cannot be tiered, and faith must not be reduced to a function of influence.

Government leaders and officials should pay for their personal visits to temples, concerts, and sports events rather than rely on the public exchequer. Digital ticketing must become the norm so that human discretion — and the manipulation that comes along with it — can be minimised. And perhaps most importantly, society must learn to detach prestige from free access. A complimentary pass should not be a symbol of status. True dignity lies in being treated the same as everyone else.

If organisers collectively choose to restrict VIP passes, something telling will happen. Only those who genuinely care about the event will attend. Those who seek only visibility or favour will stay away. This will reduce crowd pressure, simplify event management, and save significant public funds. The culture of entitlement will begin to lose its grip.

Ending the VIP complimentary pass culture is not an act of rebellion; it is an act of restoration — restoring fairness, dignity, and equality. It ensures that no one gets ahead simply because of the position they hold. A democracy strengthens when privilege weakens. And if India truly wishes to honour the principles it proudly claims, then dismantling the VIP pass syndrome is not merely desirable — it is essential.

The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the opinions of the Editor/Publisher of this website.