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By:

Sagari Gupta

24 March 2026 at 2:16:04 pm

SpaceX’s IPO and India’s Sovereignty

The record-breaking $1.75 trillion IPO underscores a new reality that nations which do not control critical digital infrastructure risk ceding part of their sovereignty. Last week, SpaceX listed on Nasdaq under the ticker SPCX, raising $75 billion at a staggering valuation of $1.75 trillion. That single offering surpassed Saudi Aramco’s 2019 record of $25.6 billion by a factor of three. India’s defence budget for FY 2025-26 was Rs. 6.81 lakh crore, approximately $78.57 billion, according to...

SpaceX’s IPO and India’s Sovereignty

The record-breaking $1.75 trillion IPO underscores a new reality that nations which do not control critical digital infrastructure risk ceding part of their sovereignty. Last week, SpaceX listed on Nasdaq under the ticker SPCX, raising $75 billion at a staggering valuation of $1.75 trillion. That single offering surpassed Saudi Aramco’s 2019 record of $25.6 billion by a factor of three. India’s defence budget for FY 2025-26 was Rs. 6.81 lakh crore, approximately $78.57 billion, according to the Union Budget. SpaceX raised the near-equivalent of that annual allocation in one day. The investors who participated were not buying into a rocket company. They were pricing control over satellite infrastructure, global internet access, launch capability, and an integrated AI platform at a level exceeding the GDP of most countries. Roughly 30 percent of the shares, worth approximately $22.5 billion, went to retail investors, three times the proportion typical of a US listing. India has no private entity in this category. What SpaceX actually controls Starlink, SpaceX’s satellite internet division, operated approximately 7,000 active satellites globally as of early 2026. It counts over nine million subscribers worldwide, and following a 2026 merger, SpaceX also owns xAI, the developer of the Grok AI system. A company that controls satellite connectivity, launch capacity, and a frontier AI model occupies a position no regulator has previously had to classify. It is not a telecom operator, not a defence contractor, and not a technology platform. It is all three at once, under common ownership. In June 2025, SpaceX received authorisation from India’s Department of Telecommunications, followed by a licence from IN-SPACe in July 2025. As of June 2026, Starlink’s commercial operations in India remain pending, with the company in active discussions with the Government of India on security clearances, a process slowed by concerns linked to Starlink terminal use in the Iran conflict. That delay is itself revealing. A foreign company’s service continuity in India depends on negotiations that India does not fully control. Satellite communications, launch systems, and AI-integrated data infrastructure are the functional equivalents of roads and electricity grids in a digital economy. States that built those grids in the twentieth century retained control over access, pricing, and service continuity. States that depend on foreign corporations for digital infrastructure in the twenty-first century do not. The dependence question is already live for India India’s digital public infrastructure, covering Aadhaar, UPI, and the Ayushman Bharat Digital Mission, processes billions of transactions monthly. Aadhaar covers nearly the entire adult population, and UPI carries the bulk of India’s retail digital payments. The system’s design is sound: public architecture, state-controlled data governance, open standards. The next connectivity layer is the problem. TRAI data shows rural internet penetration at 44.2 percent as of March 2024, with only 3.8 percent of rural households connected through high-speed fixed infrastructure. Approximately 630 million Indians remain offline, with primary barriers being awareness, affordability, and limited local-language content, according to the Kantar ICUBE 2024 survey. That gap will not close through terrestrial fibre rollout alone. Satellite broadband, through Starlink, Eutelsat OneWeb, or Amazon’s Project Kuiper, will carry a large share of that load over the next decade. None of these are Indian entities. Their pricing decisions, service continuity choices, and data routing practices sit outside Indian jurisdiction. A farmer in Chhattisgarh receiving crop advisory data through a satellite connection does not know that a pricing decision made in California affects whether that signal arrives tomorrow. She will notice only when it stops. Foreign private capital has built connectivity infrastructure in India before. Reliance Jio brought down mobile data costs after its 2016 launch, extending internet access to hundreds of millions of Indians who had not been able to afford it before. Jio’s rollout also created large-scale domestic employment in network maintenance, retail, and customer service, jobs that remain within India’s economy. Private investment in connectivity is not a threat to sovereignty. Structural Gap The difference with SpaceX is structural. Jio operates under Indian law, pays taxes in India, employs Indian engineers, and answers to Indian regulators when disputes arise. Its towers and fibre sit on Indian soil. Starlink’s constellation orbits at 550 kilometres, outside any single national jurisdiction. Under the Telecommunications Act 2023, existing Starlink operators in India continue under the legacy Unified Licence framework, with their licences remaining valid. But no Indian regulatory instrument contains a binding service continuity obligation for satellite operators. If Starlink suspends Indian operations, no domestic legal mechanism compels continuation or requires a managed transition for the users left without service. The $1.75 trillion valuation amplifies this structural gap. India’s external debt stood at $736.3 billion at end-March 2025, according to the Reserve Bank of India. SpaceX’s market valuation now exceeds India’s total external debt by a wide margin. A corporation at that scale does not face the same regulatory friction as a domestic operator. It does not need to negotiate from a position of dependence. India’s satellite communications framework, updated through the Indian Space Policy 2023 and the Telecommunications Act 2023, governs licensing and spectrum allocation in detail. It does not contain binding service continuity or exit-transition obligations for foreign satellite operators. That gap needs closing through explicit licence conditions before Starlink and its competitors reach commercial scale in India. India’s Semiconductor Mission has made genuine progress. Pilot production started in three plants in 2025, and the government confirmed that four plants commenced commercial production in 2026. Kaynes Semicon’s OSAT unit in Sanand reached commercial production in March 2026. India also inaugurated its first 3-nanometer chip design centres in Noida and Bengaluru in 2025, a step toward design capability even as fabrication capacity remains limited. These are real milestones, not announcements. They do not yet constitute a domestic supply chain for the advanced chips needed for satellite infrastructure, AI systems, or next-generation communications hardware. India’s domestic semiconductor market was approximately $45-50 billion in 2024-25, according to industry estimates cited by the Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology. Closing the gap between consumption and domestic production is a decade-long task requiring sustained capital commitment. India’s competition framework does not treat foreign satellite infrastructure concentration as a market power question. The Competition Commission of India has a clear mandate over domestic pricing and merger activity. It has no instrument to act when a foreign entity’s control over orbital infrastructure creates de facto monopoly conditions for remote connectivity within India. That regulatory gap needs explicit legislative attention before dependence deepens further. Market Signals SpaceX’s $1.75 trillion valuation is not a data point about one company. It is a market signal about what global capital considers most valuable in 2026: not oil fields or shipping lanes, but control over the systems through which economies communicate, compute, and transact. India entered the hydrocarbon era as a net importer and spent decades building the Strategic Petroleum Reserve and domestic refining capacity to reduce that dependence. The programme continues to expand today, a reminder that infrastructure sovereignty is an ongoing commitment. The response was slow and expensive. It was also the right call. The digital infrastructure era has well and truly arrived. India is already a net importer of the connectivity and computing systems that will define the next phase of its economic growth. The SpaceX IPO makes the scale of that dependence visible in a single number. And policymakers do not have decades to respond this time. (The writer is an independent public policy researcher. Views personal.)

Horror Beyond the Supernatural

The title itself is enough to send shivers down the spine even before turning the first page, evoking an image of voices rising from unfathomable depths – forgotten, cursed, or perhaps deliberately silenced, only to return as haunting reverberations that refuse to be ignored. This sense of unease and foreboding forms the backbone of the book and remains remarkably consistent throughout. From the very beginning, readers are invited into a dark, unsettling universe where horror isn’t merely visual or external but deeply psychological, emotional, and existential.


A strong aspect of the book is its sustained atmosphere of horror and nail-biting suspense. The author carefully builds tension rather than relying on shock value alone. Each story unfolds at its own deliberate pace, allowing dread to seep in slowly and organically. The climax of many tales isn’t just frightening but emotionally devastating, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of melancholy rather than momentary fear. This lingering aftertaste of sorrow, loss, and subdued frustration is what sets Echoes from the Abyss apart from conventional horror anthologies.


A recurring theme across the stories is that of tragic, forlorn love; love that is incomplete, unfulfilled, or cruelly severed by fate, death, or supernatural intervention. These are not romanticised ghost stories meant to comfort; instead, they confront the reader with the raw pain of separation and longing. The endings are often tragic; they may feel cruel, yet they feel honest. The author does not offer easy resolutions or consolations, making the emotional impact more powerful. Readers are left grieving not just for the characters, but for the inevitability of loss itself.


Another striking feature of the book is the deliberate and thoughtful use of language. The titles of each story written in Latin, accompanied by their English meanings, immediately signal the author’s deep passion for words and etymology. This choice isn’t merely ornamental; it sets the intellectual and emotional tone of each narrative. The Latin titles act almost like thematic signposts, preparing the reader for the emotional and philosophical terrain ahead. This linguistic sophistication reflects the author’s command over vocabulary and his evident joy in the art of wordplay.


The richness of language may require readers with a strong flair for English and an appreciation for nuanced, sometimes dense prose. This book demands patience, focus, and a willingness to engage deeply with the text.


Among the thirteen stories in the collection, Saudade, Biblioklept, and Lugubrious deserve special mention. Saudade captures a haunting sense of longing and emotional absence that transcends physical death, turning grief into a spectral presence. Biblioklept stands out for its originality, blending intellectual obsession with a creeping sense of doom that feels both fresh and unsettling. Lugubrious is steeped in sorrow and gloom, offering a deeply atmospheric narrative that lingers long after it ends. These stories showcase the author at his best – confident, emotionally resonant, and unafraid to explore uncomfortable psychological spaces.


The author’s assertion that the stories are drawn from personal experiences adds an intriguing layer. Whether literal or metaphorical, this claim significantly heightens the reader’s curiosity, introducing a sense of vulnerability and authenticity, and the horror is disturbingly intimate. You feel a deep sense of pity and empathy for the author, imagining him as a victim, survivor, or witness to the darkness he describes. This blurring of the line between lived experience and fiction enhances the emotional weight of the narratives.


Humour and horror are challenging to execute effectively, relying heavily on timing, atmosphere, and emotional manipulation. Horror must instil fear without becoming absurd; humour must amuse without trivialising the experience. The author possesses the rare skill required to navigate these genres successfully. Even moments of dark humour serve to deepen the unease rather than dilute it.


Ultimately, this book demands the reader’s absolute attention with wide-open eyes, a racing heartbeat, and an alert mind constantly anticipating the next unsettling turn. Once immersed, it’s difficult to silence one’s thoughts or detach from the morbid possibilities unfolding. The book extends a ghastly invitation into a world dominated by spirits, shadows, and supernatural forces exerting a sinister and lasting effect on the psyche.


In conclusion, Echoes from the Abyss isn’t a light or comforting read. It is intense, emotionally charged, and intellectually demanding. For readers who are avid fans of horror and suspense thrillers, especially those who appreciate psychological depth and rich language, it is a deeply rewarding experience. The author deserves utmost appreciation for crafting a collection that is both frightening and profoundly human, proving that true horror often lies not in monsters, but in memory, loss, and echoes that refuse to fade.


(The writer is a literary critic. Views personal.)

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