There is a peculiar ache that comes with belonging to a place that has been historically positioned as a supplier of resources, labour, and talent but rarely as a beneficiary of its own wealth, much less its own aspirations. Bihar knows this ache intimately. For decades, we have watched our sons and daughters, our fellow Biharis, board trains to distant lands, carrying dreams too large for a state that was never allowed to aspire for itself. We have seen, on the one hand, our minerals extracted, our produce harvested, and our artisanal skills marginalised while, on the other hand, the infrastructure crumbles and opportunities wither. This is not our destiny. This is a policy failure spanning generations.
The question before us, as Bihar goes to the polls today, is not only about choosing a government but also about the state’s future. A quarter of a century into the 21st, it is more about choosing a future where development is not a favour — or shall I say revdi? — bestowed but a right claimed. The future of Bihar must be one where dignity is not up for negotiation but the birthright of every citizen. What we need today is a Bihar where being Bihari is not a joke or a stereotype but a badge of pride. For decades, this land has stood for talent, hard work, and resilience — yet the system has failed to recognise and nurture these strengths.
It is time for Bihar to reclaim both its image and its direction. As long as our youth are forced to leave their soil in search of employment, our politics remains incomplete. As long as a Bihari faces prejudice in other states, our society remains unjust. We must build a Bihar where development is not measured merely in numbers but reflected in people’s dignity. And that, essentially, is the subterranean rhythm of this assembly election. If the outcome does not match the yearnings of an average Bihari, that would mean that we need to reboot our politics all over again.
Bihar’s per capita income remains among the lowest in India, and employment is the primary reason Bihar’s migrants leave the state. Bihar’s unemployment rate, particularly among youth, remains significantly higher than the national average. The young people who should be building Bihar’s future are instead being forced to build someone else’s.
The social justice movement in Bihar gave voice to those who had been systematically silenced. The Mandal era ensured that Dalits, backward castes, and minorities could walk and speak in the corridors of power. But representation by itself is only half of the battle of social and economic justice. This is the fundamental question that worried B.R. Ambedkar on the eve of the country declaring itself a republic. Now, the gains of representation need to be supplemented with heavy investments.
Fair development means acknowledging that Bihar’s agricultural economy needs urgent diversification. The primary sector accounts for a relatively small portion of the state’s economic output, yet it employs more than half of its workforce. This mismatch between where people work and where economic value is generated creates a trap from which communities cannot escape through hard work alone. The social justice agenda succeeded in creating space. Now we must design, construct, and make that space not only habitable but also comfortable. This means we need functional public education institutions and healthcare facilities that ensure a qualified and healthy workforce; roads and a reliable power supply that can boost productivity; and support and incentives for the manufacturing and service sectors, which offer employment opportunities. At the centre of this transformation will be massive employment creation. Its multiplier effects will not only empower individuals but also strengthen communities and the state.
There is a dangerous seduction in grand visions that overlook mundane realities. Bihar does not need utopian promises. It needs functional schools and colleges, reliable electricity, clean drinking water, and accessible healthcare. The basics matter because they form the foundation on which everything else is built. Fixing the basics is not glamorous. It wins no awards, generates no headlines, and makes no one a visionary. But it is the difference between real development and performative governance.
Bihar’s budget runs into lakhs of crores. But allocation is not implementation. The distance between budgetary line items and actual delivery is where development goes to gasp and die. This gap is not technical; it is a political one. It reflects choices about accountability, about who matters, about whose needs count.
There is a wholesale of hate going on at the ideological level, where grand narratives pit community against community and caste against caste. Then there is the retailing of this hate: the everyday humiliations, the casual violence, the systematic exclusion that corrode social fabric. The connection between social harmony and economic prosperity is not theoretical. Development cannot take root and flourish in a soil of discord. Regions with higher social tensions consistently show lower economic performance. The wholesaling of hate serves political interests, but it destroys economic ones.
Every instance of caste-based discrimination, every act of communal violence, every moment of gendered harassment pushes Bihar further from the development it seeks. We need policies that address discrimination as the economic impediment it is. We need accountability for those who profit from division while our state continues to pay the price.
These days, there is no dearth of Bihari content on the internet. Young Bihari artists, musicians, and writers are on to something. They are reclaiming pride in the Bihari identity. The stereotype of the ‘Bihari migrant’ — hardworking but somehow lesser, ambitious but somehow crude — is being challenged through vibrant cultural production. Increasingly, the diaspora is also changing its relationship with home. Young people are embracing their Bihari identity in their work, art, and innovations. This matters because economic development without cultural dignity may just be hollow. And cultural pride without economic opportunity, as we all know too well, is very painful.
Elections are typically transactional. Votes are exchanged for promises, and promises are forgotten after victory. Bihar deserves better. We deserve a covenant: a sacred agreement that is future-oriented.
The voices from Bihar’s villages and cities are clear: voters are prioritising employment, refusing to accept a future where their children must board trains to Mumbai, Delhi, or Punjab to earn a livelihood. Women voters, once considered passive recipients of welfare schemes, are now asking harder questions about inflation, healthcare delivery, and whether government programmes translate into actual dignity and safety. Across constituencies, voters are demanding not just promises but accountability, transparency, and the right to be treated as equal stakeholders in governance rather than beneficiaries of political favours. The widespread anger over voter roll deletions has crystallised a deeper frustration: that the most basic constitutional guarantee, the right to vote, can disappear without explanation, reflecting how the poor, migrant, and marginalised communities continue to be treated as disposable.
In this election, more than choosing representatives, we will be making a choice whether we accept the status quo or demand the development and the dignity we have earned through our resilience, our contributions to nation-building, and our patience through decades of being taken for granted.
Manoj Kumar Jha is a member of the Rajya Sabha. His recent book is In Praise of Coalition Politics and other Essays on Indian Democracy