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By:

Sagari Gupta

24 March 2026 at 7:46:04 pm

India’s Digital Footprint Is No Longer a Choice

India’s digital economy has made personal data unavoidable. The harder task is ensuring that citizens retain meaningful control over the trails they leave behind. In August this year, the Unified Payments Interface processed about 24.5 billion transactions worth nearly Rs. 29.8 lakh crore, according to data from the National Payments Corporation of India. Aadhaar’s authentication system recorded more than 17,759 crore transactions in FY2025-26, according to UIDAI’s dashboard. Behind these...

India’s Digital Footprint Is No Longer a Choice

India’s digital economy has made personal data unavoidable. The harder task is ensuring that citizens retain meaningful control over the trails they leave behind. In August this year, the Unified Payments Interface processed about 24.5 billion transactions worth nearly Rs. 29.8 lakh crore, according to data from the National Payments Corporation of India. Aadhaar’s authentication system recorded more than 17,759 crore transactions in FY2025-26, according to UIDAI’s dashboard. Behind these numbers sits a question Indian policy has yet to answer clearly: what happens to the data these systems generate, and who controls it? The most pressing privacy question in India today is not what people choose to post online. It is what they are required to leave behind to take part in everyday life. A UPI payment leaves a transaction trail. A loan application generates financial records. A food-delivery order records your address and buying habits. A cab ride shows where you work and when you travel. A social-media post adds something more personal: what you think, like, fear or believe. Individually, these fragments look harmless. Together, they can describe a remarkably detailed version of a person’s life. Orwellian Society This is not digital technology invading a society that was once offline. It is a society in which digital systems have become part of ordinary economic life. For a software professional, deleting social media may be an inconvenience. For a domestic worker paid through a bank account, a student applying for a scholarship or a pensioner completing an identity check, opting out is not a workable choice. Consider an ordinary Saturday. You check the weather, search for a medicine, order groceries, pay through UPI, book a cab and make an online purchase. No single action tells a complete story. Together, they reveal your location, spending patterns, household composition, health concerns and daily routine. Artificial intelligence changes what this data means, because machine systems are increasingly good at connecting fragments that once sat in separate databases. The concern is not that an AI system knows what you searched for once. It is that automated systems can identify patterns across millions of ordinary interactions that, taken individually, meant little. The problem is also one of asymmetry. The individual usually sees only the service being offered; the organisation sees the accumulated information behind it. A single transaction may be trivial, but millions of such transactions can become commercially or administratively valuable when linked and analysed. That makes data different from many other commodities. Once information has been copied, combined or used to build a profile, the original individual may have little visibility into its subsequent journey. The question is therefore not simply who collected the data, but who can combine it, infer from it and act upon those inferences. The public debate on AI scraping is often too simple. Not every online interaction is pulled into an AI model, and not every company holds every piece of a person’s digital life. Collection depends on the platform, its policies, its technical architecture and the applicable law. But the gap is real: the capacity to analyse vast volumes of information is growing faster than most people’s understanding of where their information goes. A PwC India survey found that 56 percent of consumers did not know their rights over personal data, while 70 percent said privacy policies were difficult to understand. When a person does not understand what they are agreeing to, consent risks becoming a formality rather than a genuine choice. There is also a distinction between privacy and secrecy. A person may have nothing embarrassing to hide and still reasonably object to a detailed record of their movements, purchases and associations being assembled without meaningful control. Privacy is less about having something to conceal than about retaining a degree of agency over one’s own life. A Right on Paper The Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023 gives individuals rights to correct and erase personal data, subject to the conditions and exceptions set out in the law. The government notified the Digital Personal Data Protection Rules in November 2025, with provisions coming into force in phases. On paper, this changes the relationship between citizens and the organisations that hold their data. In practice, most people do not think in terms of “Data Principal” or “Data Fiduciary” when an app asks for access to their information. They think about whether the app will still work if they say no. That is the test that decides whether a data-protection law functions on the ground. A small retailer selling online may not fully understand the compliance requirements. An elderly customer faces a long privacy notice before completing a routine transaction. A young user accepts an app’s terms because refusing means losing access to a service that friends or employers already use. A right that exists on paper does not guarantee a person’s ability to exercise it. The ability to protect personal data is not distributed evenly. A high-income professional can pay for privacy-focused software, encrypted communication and legal advice. Someone on a smaller income uses whichever free application is available. The same divide applies to time. A person who understands technology can adjust permissions and request deletion. A person working two jobs may accept an app’s terms because reading a 30-page privacy notice at 11 p.m. is hardly realistic. This produces an uneven outcome. The people with the strongest ability to protect their data are often the same people with the clearest sense of what is being collected. Those with fewer resources tend to generate more data while having less power to question how it is used. This is why treating “going offline” as the solution has limited use in India. Cash does not cover every digital transaction. A basic phone does not replace every digital service. Deleting a social-media account does not erase bank or government records. Refusing every digital platform carries its own economic cost, particularly for people who depend on digital payments for income. The realistic goal is not disappearance. It is control. India’s digital economy should not be measured only by payment volumes or platform reach. It should also be measured by whether people understand the exchange taking place underneath that convenience. Regulators should track whether a person can find out what a service holds about them, correct inaccurate information, delete data that is no longer necessary and withdraw consent without clicking through several layers of settings. The sharper test is what happens when data collected for one purpose becomes useful for another. Rising Stakes The stakes will rise as India’s digital infrastructure becomes more deeply embedded in public services, finance and commerce. The country has built impressive systems for moving money and verifying identity; the next challenge is to build equally credible systems for limiting what can be inferred from the information those systems generate. The next phase of India’s privacy debate should move past the idea of digital disappearance, because most people have no practical way to leave the systems through which they earn, pay, borrow, travel, study and access public services. The more useful task is making those systems answerable to the people whose lives they record. The measure of digital freedom is not whether a citizen leaves no trace. It is whether they have a say over where that trace leads. (The writer is an independent public policy researcher. Views personal.)

The Prodigy Who Is Already Too Good for Age-Groups

Writer: Waleed Hussain
Waleed Hussain
Apr 12
3 min read

In the swirling chaos of the 2026 IPL, where established stars chase milestones and franchises hunt for silverware, a 15-year-old from Bihar has stolen the spotlight with the casual swagger of a veteran. Vaibhav Sooryavanshi is not merely participating in the world’s richest T20 league—he is dominating it. His blistering 15-ball half-century against Chennai Super Kings in the early days of the season, followed by a 26-ball 78 that powered Rajasthan Royals to a record powerplay of 97/1 against Royal Challengers Bengaluru, has left commentators scrambling for superlatives. He briefly snatched the Orange Cap from Yashasvi Jaiswal, hammering eight fours and seven sixes in one innings alone. This is not hype. This is history repeating itself, only faster.


Sooryavanshi’s IPL 2025 debut season already read like fiction. At 14 years and 23 days, he became the youngest player ever to feature in the tournament. Then, against Gujarat Titans, he smashed 101 off 38 balls—35 to reach three figures—becoming the youngest centurion in men’s T20 cricket and posting the second-fastest hundred in IPL history. He finished with 252 runs in seven innings at a strike rate of 206.56, blending power with poise. In 2026, the numbers have only escalated: 200 runs in four matches at 266.67, including multiple rapid fifties. He has taken down Jasprit Bumrah with a first-ball maximum and bullied attacks featuring international bowlers as if they were net bowlers. Rajasthan Royals, who bought him for Rs 1.1 crore as a 13-year-old, look like geniuses.


Pre-IPL Journey

But to understand how good Sooryavanshi truly is, rewind to his pre-IPL journey. He debuted in the Ranji Trophy at 12—the second-youngest ever for Bihar. He made List A history as the youngest centurion and fastest 150. In the 2026 Under-19 World Cup, he was Player of the Tournament, captaining India to glory with a jaw-dropping 175 off 80 balls in the final against England. These are not flashes; they are patterns. A left-handed top-order batter, he possesses an uncanny blend of timing, bat speed, and fearless intent. He plays with the elegance of a classical stroke-maker but the brutality of a modern T20 assassin—lofting spinners into the stands and punishing seamers with disdain. His strike rate north of 200 in IPL speaks volumes. He does not wait for the powerplay to end; he treats every over as the powerplay.


Critics will inevitably whisper about the perils of early fame. At 15, he has already faced more pressure than most cricketers see in a decade. The scrutiny, the expectations, the inevitable comparisons—to Sachin Tendulkar’s precocity or Yuvraj Singh’s swagger (his own idols)—could crush a lesser talent. Yet Sooryavanshi carries himself with remarkable composure. His father’s unwavering support and Bihar’s gritty cricket culture seem to have forged a mental steel that matches his physical gifts. He is not just swinging wildly; he is calculating, picking lengths, and executing with clinical precision.


ICC Eligible

The real question now is not “How good is he?” but “How soon will India call him up?” Having turned 15 on March 27, 2026—just before IPL 2026—he is now ICC-eligible for senior international cricket. Reports suggest the BCCI is already devising a bespoke red-ball development plan to complement his white-ball pyrotechnics. His domestic exploits in the Vijay Hazare Trophy and Ranji Trophy have shown he can build innings when required, though his first-class average of 17.25 hints at the need for refinement against red-ball lengths. Still, in T20 and ODI formats, where India’s middle order is in transition, Sooryavanshi’s explosiveness is tailor-made. A senior debut post-IPL 2026 feels inevitable. Former Pakistan star Shoaib Malik has already declared he will “play for India after this IPL.” The selectors are watching closely.


In an era where T20 cricket rewards audacity, Sooryavanshi embodies the future. He is not the next big thing; he is the thing itself—right now. India must handle him with care: shield him from burnout, nurture his technique across formats, and resist the temptation to overexpose him. But denying his talent would be criminal. At 15, he has records that veterans covet. His heroics are not anomalies; they are proof of a generational talent who has arrived ahead of schedule.


Vaibhav Sooryavanshi is not just good. He is extraordinary—perhaps the most exciting prospect Indian cricket has unearthed in a generation. The IPL is merely his classroom. The Indian team will soon be his stage. And cricket, quite simply, will never be the same.


(The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai.)

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