Analysis
Do Parliamentarians Really Care?
The Monsoon Session asked thousands of questions. Student welfare received four.
- of questions tested whether a scheme worked
- 1.0%
Evidence before opinion.
The session never properly began. So we read the one record it did leave behind — 7,825 Parliamentary Questions, filed over 19 sitting days, across both Houses. This is what Parliament asked. And what it never got round to asking at all.
Analysis
The Monsoon Session asked thousands of questions. Student welfare received four.
Authority
91.8%of questions were unstarred
A large share of the session's questions were written replies; only a small fraction made a minister answer aloud.
Open briefingData
60%of questions came from Lok Sabha
Most subjects were raised at similar rates in both Houses; only four of fifteen leaned clearly toward the Rajya Sabha.
Open briefingContext
17.9%of questions named a state
We read every subject line and counted the questions that named a state outright.
Open briefingAlert
4questions addressed electoral rolls
The process deciding who is allowed to vote in India appeared in four of 7,825 questions.
Open briefingThe docket
From foreign capital in G-secs to four new Supreme Court judges—impact, ministry, and what each proposal lands against.
Read briefing
Data
Cases passed one lakh for the first time, with Telangana and Karnataka accounting for nearly half the national total.
Read briefing
Have your say
A Supreme Court committee is taking representations from affected communities across four states.
Read briefing
Creators
Up to ₹50,000 per district and ₹5 lakh nationally, with entries open through MyWAVES.
Read briefing
Why this exists
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A Parliamentary Question is the one thing an MP can put to a minister that the minister cannot avoid. A press conference can be skipped. A speech in the House can be sat through in silence. A question has to be answered, on the record, because the law says so. This session, Parliament used that power 7,825 times — and the shape of those 7,825 questions says more than the number does.
Start with who is asking. The load is spread astonishingly wide: 1,236 MPs filed at least one question, and 614 of them filed exactly one. The ten busiest members account for barely 4% of the session between them. So this is not a handful of star performers carrying the House — nearly everyone turns up to the order paper.
Now look at who is being asked, and the picture inverts completely. Health and Family Welfare alone absorbed 459 questions. The five busiest ministries took 23.8% of everything asked; the ten busiest took 38.3%. So the questioning is wide at the source and narrow at the target — hundreds of MPs, funnelling into a handful of ministries. Parliament is not short of people willing to ask. It is short of range in what they ask about.
And there is a second silence underneath the first. Only 645 questions — 8.2% — were starred, the kind that makes a minister stand up, answer aloud and take a follow-up. The other 7,180 were answered on paper, where nobody in the chamber ever has to hear a word of it. A Parliament that mostly asks in writing is a Parliament that mostly lets the government answer in private.
At the very bottom of the table sit two names worth holding onto: Defence and Parliamentary Affairs, tied for last at 10 questions each across 19 sitting days and both Houses combined. And it is not only how few — it is what they are. Of Defence's ten, two ask about a Sainik School in Purulia and one about the “Financial Power of DRDO”. The ministry that runs the country's security was asked about a boarding school, twice, and about nobody's operations, procurement or readiness at all. The busiest ministries get chased on delivery; the one you would most want watched gets asked about a school. Whether that silence is trust or a blind spot is where this edition ends — Article 05.
Parliament's actual mix is fixed — the top bar in every row. Drag a slider to set what you think the priority should be, and read what that decision would actually cost or buy.
Counting questions tells you where MPs looked. It tells you nothing about what they wanted once they got there — and there is a difference, a very large one, between asking whether a scheme exists and asking whether it worked. Most of the order paper is the first kind. “Railway Schools in Telangana”, “Rare Earth Elements Exploration in West Bengal” — status, headcounts, what-is-happening-where. The rarer, sharper kind names the outcome and dares the ministry to defend it: “Achievement of Target under PMAY-G”, “Independent Performance Evaluation of NCAP”. This session, Parliament asked the first kind again and again, and the second almost never.
The clearest place to see it is Education — the third-largest ministry by volume, and the case this edition was built around. Tag a question by what it is actually about rather than by whichever ministry replied, and 406 carry the tag. Nearly three in four, 74.6%, sit in three buckets — school education, higher education, scholarships — which read together as one question: who gets in, and who pays for it.
Now look at what is left. This was the session an exam-paper leak had turned into a national emergency, with students dead by suicide and both Houses paralysed. Student welfare and safety drew four questions in all of it. Here they are, the entire set: “Increasing Suicide among Students”, “Mental Health of Students”, “Ragging Complaints in Higher Educational Institutions”, and “Use of AI Platforms for Mental Health Support”. The exact crisis on the street — named, in full, four times, across two Houses and nineteen days. The subjects that make news are not the subjects that make the order paper.
Widen back out to all 7,825 questions and the habit becomes a rule. 73.1% of everything filed carries the lens "general information" — status checks, headcounts, how many of X exist in Y. Only 78 questions in the entire session, 1.0%, asked whether something had actually produced a result. Asking a government to prove a thing worked is close to the rarest demand an Indian MP makes.
But here is the layer that complicates the scolding — and it is worth being fair about. When an MP does ask the hard question, they fight harder to be heard. The rare "did it work" questions are starred at 10.3%, and delivery questions at 9.8% — both above the 8.0% rate for ordinary status-checks. So the instinct to demand an answer out loud, on the floor, is strongest exactly where questions are scarcest. The accountability question is not missing because MPs don't care to ask it. It is missing at volume. The appetite is there; the habit is not.
A Lok Sabha MP answers to voters in a named place. A Rajya Sabha MP does not — they are chosen by state legislatures, and there is no single constituency anyone can point to on a map. If that difference is real, it should show up in what each House spends its questions on. It does, on two levels — and the second is more interesting than the first.
The first level is subject, and you can hear it in the questions themselves. The Rajya Sabha's defence questions read like a strategy desk — “Third-Party Security Audits of Nuclear Power Plants”, “Action against Cross-Border Terrorism”. The Lok Sabha's transport questions read like a constituency inbox — “Stoppages of Express Trains at Koilakuntla and Panyam Railway Stations”, “ABSS for Mayiladuthurai Railway Station”. In the numbers: Defence splits 60.5% to the Rajya Sabha, Foreign affairs 60%; Transport, the largest subject of the session at 680 questions, runs 58.2% Lok Sabha, Education 60.1%. Roads, schools, crops, hospitals lean to the House that has to face voters; the world beyond the constituency leans to the House that does not.
The second level is the one the topic split hides. It is not just what each House asks about — it is what kind of question it asks. Sort every question by whether it demands delivery — did the scheme reach anyone — and the Rajya Sabha, which files a quarter fewer questions overall, asked 371 delivery questions to the Lok Sabha's 342. More in raw number, from the smaller House. The chamber that never faces an election is the one more likely to ask whether the promise actually held.
Turn it around and the same pattern holds from the other side. 74.9% of the elected House's questions are plain status-checks — how many, how much, by when — against 70.6% in the Rajya Sabha. The Lok Sabha also leans harder on "where did the money go" questions. It is the portrait of an MP working a constituency: chase the project, count the beneficiaries, get the number to take home.
One honest complication, because the chamber is not a personality. Some of the Rajya Sabha's defence lean is simply the ruling party using its own RS members — the BJP filed 14 of the House's defence questions, more than anyone. And the opposition's fingerprints are all over the "distant" topics: INC members ask foreign-affairs questions at more than four times their overall share. So this is not two chambers with fixed temperaments. It is proximity and party strategy stacked on top of each other — but the structural pull is real, and it points the same way every time. Which of the Lok Sabha's 543 elected MPs is meant to raise foreign policy for a constituency that sent them to fix a highway? Structurally, almost none. And it shows.
The darker a state, the more questions named it. Hover over any state, or tab to it, for its rank, its count and the actual questions MPs filed about it.
Here is what the official record will not tell you: which state an MP is from, which constituency, which party. None of it is a field in the data — there is a name, a ministry and a subject line, and that is all. So we read all 7,825 subject lines ourselves, looking for the place names the record was never going to hand over.
1,399 questions — 17.9% of the session — name a state or union territory outright: “Vande Bharat Express Trains in Tamil Nadu”, “Fair Price Shops under PDS in Bihar”, “Railway Projects for Ongole-Guntur Section in Andhra Pradesh”. Treat that as a floor, not a ceiling. A question titled “Replacement of Railways Track in Balasore, Odisha” is just as local, and naming a district rather than the state, it slips straight past this count — as does every question anchored to a city or a route number. What the map shows is the floor of the constituency instinct, and the floor is already high.
The geography of that floor is the real find. The darkest states are Tamil Nadu (159), Odisha (145) and Andhra Pradesh (127) — the south and the east, not the Hindi heartland. And these are the states with the strongest regional parties, where an MP's whole political identity is the state itself. The instinct to turn a national question into a local errand runs hottest exactly where regional politics runs hottest. Uttar Pradesh, which sends more MPs than anyone, comes sixth — not because its MPs are less parochial, but because a state that famous gets named by its cities, and the state label never appears.
Party makes less difference here than you would expect — and more. On sheer volume it is arithmetic: BJP MPs account for 46.3% of party-tagged questions and INC for 16.3%, tracking seat share almost exactly. Nobody is out-asking anyone.
But what they ask about is not arithmetic at all. INC members ask foreign-affairs questions at over four times their overall weight; the DMK over-indexes two and a half times on environment; the ruling party leans to defence and infrastructure. Parties don't ask more or fewer questions than their numbers — they ask about different things entirely. The volume is proportional. The agenda is not.
Naming what Parliament does not ask about needs one admission first: 46.9% of the session's questions do not yet fit any single topic cleanly, so everything here describes the half we can name. Call it a floor for the silence, not the whole of it — which only makes the silence worse, because the visible half is already this thin.
Inside what is classified, the bottom of the table is not close. Foreign affairs drew 20 questions all session, the smallest of any topic; Defence and security drew 38. Both are dwarfed by Environment at 121 and by Science and technology at 202. At ministry level, Defence and Parliamentary Affairs tie for last across all 55 ministries: 10 apiece. But a thin count on a standing subject is one thing. The sharper failure is a subject that was moving fast, in real time, and still drew almost nothing.
Electoral roll revision — the Special Intensive Revision reshaping voter lists across the country through 2026 — appears in exactly 4 of the session's 7,825 questions. Here they are, all four: Gaurav Gogoi's “SIR Electoral Roll Revision” in the Lok Sabha; Abhishek Banerjee's “Protection of Food Security Entitlements during Electoral Roll Revisions”; and, from the Rajya Sabha, “Missing names in electoral rolls” and “Deletion of names in SIR”. Four questions, 0.05% of everything Parliament asked, on the process that decides who is on the roll at all.
There is an honest defence, and it matters. A question needs roughly two weeks' notice to be admitted, so the order paper always trails the news — MPs cannot ask about this morning's development this afternoon. But that is the finding. The instrument runs on a fortnight's delay while the SIR runs live, state by state, one roll at a time. By the time a question about one state's revision clears the notice period, the next state's rolls have already been redrawn. This is not indifference; it is a mismatch of clock speed — a slow instrument pointed at a fast process. And a mismatch of clock speed is precisely what a live terminal exists to close: not once a session, after the fact, but as the questions are filed and the silences are still forming. Which is where this edition ends, and the countdown carries on.
| What it does | Exempts foreign institutional investors and the Bank for International Settlements from income tax on earnings from government securities. |
| Impact | Cheaper for foreign capital to hold Indian sovereign debt — a tailwind for G-sec demand and the borrowing programme. |
| Context | The ordinance route signals urgency. Sits inside the long tension between taxing foreign capital and attracting it. |
| What it does | Strengthens the delayed-payments mechanism, adds enforcement of arbitral awards, lets states set Facilitation Council composition. |
| Context | Delayed payments are a chronic grievance with lakhs of crores stuck; earlier remedies were seen as weak on enforcement. |
| What it does | Raises Supreme Court judges (excluding the CJI) from 33 to 37 — four additional seats. |
| Context | The Court carries a heavy backlog; the perennial debate is strength vs vacancies vs the collegium's pace. First bump in several years. |
| What it does | Frames supervision and disposal of foreign contributions and assets of bodies that lose FCRA certification; cuts maximum penalty from five years' imprisonment to one. |
| Context | Softer on penalty, tighter on asset control. Many NGOs have lost registration in recent years and call the regime restrictive. |
| What it does | Replaces the UGC, AICTE and NCTE with a single higher-education regulator. |
| Context | Traces to NEP 2020. The Joint Committee is hearing vice-chancellors and industry bodies. Federalism and autonomy concerns are live. |
| Births & Deaths | Makes delayed-registration provisions more stringent. These records anchor identity, voter rolls and welfare access — concern centres on the documentation burden on migrants and the poor. |
| National Honour | Amends the 1971 Act on insults to the flag, Constitution and anthem. One to watch on wording rather than headline. |
Seven bills reached the floor this session. Read together they are less a theme than a cross-section: who the state wants to make things easier for, and who it wants to make things harder for.
The Income-tax amendment arrived by ordinance — the route a government takes when it does not want to wait. It makes it cheaper for foreign institutions to hold Indian government debt. The Births and Deaths amendment, in the same session, makes it harder to register a birth late. One bill smooths the path for capital, which can go anywhere it likes. The other tightens the paperwork behind identity, voter rolls and welfare access, for people who cannot.
The Supreme Court bill adds four judges to a bench of 33 — the first increase in several years, against a backlog that has outgrown every increase before it. The FCRA amendment cuts the maximum penalty from five years in prison to one, while tightening control over what happens to an organisation's assets once its certification is gone. Softer on the person. Harder on the money.
Registered cyber-crime in India crossed one lakh cases for the first time in 2024 — 1,01,928 of them, roughly double the 50,000-odd recorded in 2020. Two states carry almost half the national total between them: Telangana at 27,230 and Karnataka at 21,993.
But the useful finding is not where the crime is. It is what the crime is. Computer-related offences, fraud and cheating account for most of it. Obscene content, stalking and everything else make up a small remainder. This is a money story, not hacking in the Hollywood sense — which makes it a consumer-protection and banking-supervision problem at least as much as a policing one.
These are registered cases. Differences between states partly reflect how diligently each state books a complaint, not just how much crime happens there. Between 2020 and 2024, Assam fell by roughly 88% and West Bengal by roughly 60% — a fall that says far more about registration practice than about anyone becoming safer.
If it happens to you: financial fraud can be reported on helpline 1930, or at cybercrime.gov.in. The I4C says more than ₹11,158 crore has been saved across 32.8 lakh complaints, with coordination hubs now covering hotspots including Mewat, Jamtara, Hyderabad and Guwahati. Speed matters more than anything else here. The money can be recovered only before it is moved on.
| Communities | Villagers, farmers, mine-workers and local communities whose livelihoods are tied to the range. |
| Organisations | Environmentalists and non-profit organisations working on the Aravallis. |
| Industry | Mining lease-holders and project proponents. |
| How to send | Via the committee's form, or by email to mshpcaravalli@gmail.com. Submissions carry more weight when backed by documents or verifiable material. |
The Supreme Court has set up a High-Powered Committee on the Aravalli Hills and Ranges, and it has to report by 31 August 2026. Until then it is taking representations from anyone affected by mining, land use or conservation in the range.
This is a direct channel into a Supreme Court-mandated process — the sort of thing normally reached through lawyers, industry associations and well-funded intervenors. The people whose livelihoods sit closest to the range are the ones least likely to know the window exists. And the window is short: 21 days from the notice.
Submissions go via the committee's form, or by email to mshpcaravalli@gmail.com. Confirm the exact closing date before relying on it — the notice period runs from publication, not from the reporting deadline.
The Information & Broadcasting Ministry wants creators to film their own district — its culture, heritage, tourism and history — as a 1–3 minute video, uploaded to the MyWAVES section of the WAVES OTT platform. Entries run 1–31 August 2026. Prasar Bharati, My Bharat, YouTube and Meta are partners.
The awards are money, not exposure: up to twenty district awards of ₹50,000, ₹2 lakh for a standout creator from each district, and ₹5 lakh each at the national level.
Look at the pilot list again. Andaman & Nicobar. Arunachal Pradesh. Ladakh. Dadra & Nagar Haveli. These are the places that appear least often in national programming — and, as this edition's own data shows, among the least likely to come up in Parliament either.
If you are a creator in one of these regions, or you can pass this on to youth groups, colleges and cultural organisations there, it is an unusually direct route to money and to a national platform, with no gatekeeper in the middle.