Panch Tattva Wisdom

A Memory of India Before 1991
I belong to a generation that lived through the decades before the economic reforms of 1991. Therefore, when I hear discussions about that period, I often feel that many younger people do not fully appreciate what everyday economic life was actually like.
I have no hesitation in acknowledging the importance of the reforms introduced in 1991. They marked a turning point in India’s economic journey. Yet, what remains difficult for me to understand is why those reforms had to wait so long.
The problems were not hidden.
One did not need to be an economist to see them. We lived with shortages, endless regulations, limited choices, and a system where permissions often mattered more than initiative. The ordinary citizen experienced these realities every day. Entrepreneurs faced obstacles at every step. Growth was slow. Opportunities were limited. Many talented people spent their energies navigating regulations instead of creating wealth.
What is often forgotten today is that by the 1970s and 1980s there were already many examples around the world showing that excessive state control was not the path to prosperity. Several countries that had started from difficult circumstances began opening their economies, encouraging enterprise, attracting investment, and creating jobs. They adapted when evidence demanded adaptation.
India did not.
As someone who watched those decades unfold, I do not accept the argument that nobody knew better. Many sensible voices raised concerns. Many people could see that the existing model was not delivering the results the nation deserved. Yet those voices were often ignored while established political narratives continued to dominate public discourse.
The tragedy was not merely economic. It was the loss of time.
A nation of India’s size and talent can recover from policy mistakes. What it cannot recover is lost decades. The opportunities that were never created, the businesses that were never built, the jobs that never came into existence, and the families whose economic progress was delayed—all these are costs that never appear in official statistics.
When the crisis of 1991 finally arrived, reality forced a change in direction. The reforms that followed demonstrated what Indians could achieve when some of the restrictions were removed. Growth accelerated. Aspirations expanded. New industries emerged. Millions found opportunities that earlier generations could scarcely imagine.
To me, the success of the post-1991 period was not merely proof that reforms worked. It was proof that they could have been undertaken much earlier.
This is not an exercise in assigning blame to individuals or political parties. History should be studied to learn, not merely to accuse. But learning requires honesty. If policies fail, they should be recognized as failures. If assumptions prove mistaken, they should be reconsidered. If evidence points in a different direction, leaders must have the courage to change course.
The lesson I draw from those years is simple: nations suffer when ideology becomes more important than results and when political convenience becomes more important than national progress.
Having lived through those decades, I believe the greatest mistake was not adopting a flawed economic model. Every generation makes mistakes. The greater mistake was persisting with it long after its shortcomings had become visible.
History’s purpose is not to settle old scores. Its purpose is to ensure that future generations do not pay the same price for the same mistakes.

Krishna Khandelwal