Chief Justice of India Surya Kant may have clarified that he did not mean to call unemployed youngsters “cockroaches” and that the “parasite” remark was directed at those with fake degrees, but it has already sparked a virtual and viral revolt in the form of the Cockroach Janata Party.

It’s a hyper-ironic, meme-driven digital outfit that has logged over 45,000 registered members on its website, https://cockroachjantaparty.org/ in just two days.

On the website, the CJP’s “manifesto” has five points. Here they are, verbatim:

• If the CJP comes in power, no Chief Justice shall be granted a Rajya Sabha seat as a post-retirement reward.
• If any legit vote is deleted, whether in a CJP or opposition-ruled state, the CEC shall be arrested under UAPA, as taking away voting rights of citizens is no less than terrorism.
• Women shall receive 50% reservation, not 33%, without increasing the strength of Parliament. Additionally, 50% of all Cabinet positions shall be reserved for women.
• All media houses owned by Ambani and Adani shall have their licences cancelled to make way for truly independent media. Bank accounts of Godi media anchors shall be investigated.
• Any MLA or MP who defects from one party to another shall be barred from contesting elections — and from holding any public office — for a period of 20 years.

The criteria to join the CJP are also farcical, mocking the establishment’s patronising view of the younger generation. To sign up, applicants have to embrace the very labels thrown at them: lazy, unemployed, and prone to digital ranting.

On the “party’s” social media pages, an aesthetic of deep-fried memes and anti-establishment satire has flourished.

The digital swarm from the CJP’s birth grew so loud that even opposition politicians like Mahua Moitra and Kirti Azad flirted with the trend on X (formerly twitter), publicly teasing an interest in joining the satirical “political party”.

"Nothing of this is planned," Abhijeet Dipke, the CJP’s founder, a Boston University graduate and former social media strategist for AAP, told The Telegraph Online.

He confessed that the CJP’s meteoric “rise” has outpaced its infrastructure. Speaking fresh off a 48-hour sleepless bender of managing viral notifications from the US, Dipke admitted: "It is all happening very suddenly. I wasn't even prepared for it. I wouldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams that 45,000 people would sign up for a party that I was about to just launch as a satire."

Yet, the absurdity has struck a nerve. For India’s Gen Z who see themselves squeezed between an unemployment crisis and a shrinking space for dissent, the cockroach has become an accidental badge of honor.

Cockroaches, after all, are famously impossible to kill.

But doesn’t the CJP risk trivialising a serious issue like dissent in modern India? Can an Instagram page foster political awareness?

Dipke defended the strategy, arguing that the organisers must "meet the people where they are at."

Operating a dissent-driven platform in modern India carries real-world peril; digital takedowns and criminal cases are routine hazards for those who organise to take on the establishment. The CJP's leadership claimed to be unbothered.

"I’m prepared for the backlash," Dipke said.

Such satire is not new. Decades ago, the comedian Jaspal Bhatti floated a few political parties including a Suitcase Party where election tickets were allotted based on the suitcase size of prospective candidates and the Recession Party (2009) in which he promised to reserve 50 per cent of seats "for fools".

And before one election, Bhatti floated a party that said in its manifesto that it wants to divide India on religious lines and institutionalise corruption. He disbanded the party just before the polls, saying the present political parties had already fulfilled his manifesto.

So satire as dissent is not unique to the Cockroach Janata Party. But it does indicate that at least some of India's digital youth are sending a signal to the halls of power: they are listening, they are watching, and they are remarkably resilient.

What comes next? Dipke has no grand manifesto, no structural blueprint, and no concrete strategy. Instead, he acknowledges he is operating entirely in the dark.

"We are taking it one step at a time," he said. "I am not delusional; I know this can die out in a few days. I do want to make it an independent body, but the least I can do is create a space or platform for people, especially the youth, to be heard."