When Protocol Eclipses Pain: A Drowning Odisha and the Tragic Farce of a Titular Presidency

While Odisha keeps  gasping for breath under the suffocating weight of devastating floods, the state’s administrative machinery got madly busy rolling out the red carpet to the so called tribal lady president of India Droupadi Murmu. In a glaring display of misplaced priorities and systemic callousness, the highest constitutional office of the land appears enslaved to protocol, optics, and political subservience, turning a blind eye to the very people it is sworn to serve.

​A Humanitarian Crisis Ignored for Royal Trappings

​Today, Odisha is enduring one of its darkest hours. Relentless rainfall has swallowed entire villages, turning homes into watery graves. Thousands of displaced families are staring into the abyss of homelessness, fighting a desperate battle for the most basic human needs- food, water, and shelter.

​In any civilised society, a disaster of this magnitude commands the undivided attention of the state. Instead, the state machinery was hijacked by a VIP syndrome that borders on the monarchical. The President of India, hailing from this very state, visits Odisha with astonishing frequency. Each visit drains enormous public funds, pulling senior IAS, IPS, and OAS officers, the Governor, and thousands of police personnel away from crucial administrative duties just to manage her movement and security, despite there being no significant threat perception.

​The masses are enraged by this stark indifference. The people of Odisha are forced to watch from their submerged rooftops as the head of state enjoys the trappings of a princess, completely detached from the suffering of the citizens.

​The 170-km Train Ride: A Mockery of Public Money

​Nothing exemplifies this arrogance more than the President’s recent transit from Bhubaneswar to Brahmapur. For a mere excellent-road 170-km journey that could have easily been conducted in a car motorcade with pilot vehicles, an entire ‘Presidential Special’ train was reportedly brought in all the way from Delhi. To ensure maximum security, rail traffic was suspended, and this special train was flanked by two additional escort trains- one leading and one following. Platforms were sealed, and massive police platoons were deployed.  The big reason for the enormously wasteful event was bad weather likely to affect a chopper trip.

​The people of India are aghast that a de facto inconsequential political figure has justified such an exorbitant, theatrical waste of the taxpayer’s money for a short commute by her, while just miles away, her own people are losing their livelihoods to the uncontrollable floodwaters.

​A Political Puppet in Rashtrapati Bhavan

​The pain expressed by civil society is not just about the floods; it is a profound disillusionment with the individual holding the office. Droupadi Murmu’s elevation was hailed as a triumph for tribal representation, but critics now view it as a calculated political masterstroke by the Modi-Shah dispensation. She is increasingly perceived not as an independent ‘Head of State’, but as a compliant puppet used to reap electoral dividends while remaining a titular functionary.

​The most humiliating evidence of this was the inauguration of the new Parliament building. Despite being the constitutional head of the Parliament, she was not even invited as a spectator, let alone asked to inaugurate it. Yet, instead of taking offense at this blatant disrespect to her office, she remained smugly silent and heaped praise on the Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who took the centre stage to perform constitutionally inappropriate religious rites as the inaugurator.

​Optics Over Authenticity

​Furthermore, her public persona has become a subject of intense scrutiny. Observers note that the tribal woman has heavily ‘sanskritised’ herself, adopting the optics of a devout, upper-caste Hindu without hesitation. From performing highly publicised religious ‘Aartis’ to inaugurating private institutions run by spiritual gurus like Kripaluji Maharaj, her itinerary heavily weighted toward religious appeasement and elitist networking rather than genuine, grassroots governance in a secular democracy.

The people of India wonder as to what benefit the inauguration of a private, fee-charging university brings to the impoverished, displaced masses of Odisha who have just lost everything.

​A Legacy of Shame

​Had the President of India eschewed the ceremonial pomp, abandoned the luxury trains, and dedicated her visit exclusively to navigating the flood-ravaged zones to hold the hands of the grieving, she would have proven herself a true leader of the people. Instead, her actions paint the picture of a callous figurehead. By choosing protocol over compassion, and political subservience over constitutional assertion, Draupadi Murmu is rapidly turning what should have been Odisha’s greatest pride into a source of profound shame. The people are watching, and they are unforgiving of a leader who forgets her roots the moment she is handed a crown.

​The optics were as devastating as the floodwaters themselves. While millions of citizens across Odisha grappled with the terrifying reality of gushing floods, the state leadership seemed tragically disconnected from the catastrophe. Chief Minister Mohan Majhi, rather than braving the dangerous currents on an inflated raft to oversee grassroots rescue operations, chose instead to prioritise the visit of President Droupadi Murmu. Though both leaders proudly share a Santali heritage- a narrative heavily leveraged for political capital- that shared connection to the ground reality vanished the moment the waters rose.

​Instead of aggressively commanding disaster management teams as waterborne epidemics loomed across the flood-distressed communities fighting for survival, the indifferent Chief Minister opted for the optics of sycophancy. Along with party colleagues who should have been distributing relief materials, Majhi accompanied the President aboard an ultra-luxury, air-conditioned saloon train. The President appeared completely insulated from the grim reality just beyond the tracks, displaying a severe lack of visible engagement with the ongoing disaster. It was a bleak, unforgivable juxtaposition: leaders basking in the comfort of a luxury railcar while, out in the floodwaters, vulnerable children and venomous snakes were left clinging to the same floating logs for survival.

​In their failure to stand with the vulnerable during their darkest hour, both President Droupadi Murmu and Chief Minister Mohan Majhi have brought immeasurable pain and profound shame to the people of Odisha. One can only hope that a much-needed sense of duty and moral wisdom eventually pierces through their walls of privilege.