Climate Activist Refuses to End Fast Until Education Minister Resigns

As temperatures soar above 37 degrees Celsius in Delhi, Sonam Wangchuk lies on an improvised stage under a makeshift awning, his body visibly weakened after 18 days without food. The climate activist and engineer has lost nearly 9 kilograms from an already lean frame. A physiotherapist works beside him, massaging his aching joints as he struggles to conserve energy by barely speaking. His voice reduced to a whisper, Wangchuk embodies the desperation of India’s latest protest movement: the Cockroach Janta Party, or CJP.

For weeks now, young Indians have gathered at Jantar Mantar, a symbolic protest site in the capital, demanding fundamental reform of an education system they describe as soul-destroying. Their immediate target: the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan.

The Breaking Point

The crisis began in early May when a nationwide exam for medical college entry was cancelled after a paper leak. The aftermath was devastating. A dozen students reportedly took their own lives, unable to face retaking the exam. The tragedy exposed the brutal pressure India’s education system places on young people, where success or failure in a single three-hour test often determines an entire life trajectory.

The CJP emerged on May 16, founded by 30-year-old Abhijeet Dipke. The movement’s name itself is a reclamation of an insult. India’s chief justice had called unemployed youths “cockroaches,” and Dipke transformed that slur into a rallying cry for reform. The label stuck because it resonated. Middle-class families who have never been politically active are now showing up at Jantar Mantar with coolers of water and homemade food, standing in oppressive heat to support students demanding change.

Their complaints run deeper than one exam scandal. Students are forced to study 10 to 14 hours daily, their childhoods sacrificed to a competitive system that reduces human potential to numerical scores. Parents, academics, and social media influencers have joined the movement, united in their conviction that something fundamental must shift.

The Government’s Silence

What distinguishes this protest is not the passion of its participants but the deafening silence from those in power. Despite two million affected students and sustained news coverage, the Modi government has refused to engage with the CJP. Ministers sit just 100 metres away at Jantar Mantar and look the other way. Prime Minister Modi refuses to speak with the press. Pradhan refuses to answer media questions.

This refusal to listen pushed Wangchuk to take the hunger strike on June 28. The activist is no stranger to government pressure. Last year, he was arrested in Ladakh on charges of inciting anti-government protests and held for 170 days before charges were dropped. This time, he is betting his health that silence will finally break.

His sacrifice is resonating. Other protesters have begun fasting in solidarity. Atul Yadav, 27, has refused food for three days. “How can this government ignore honest, well-meaning young boys and girls?” he asks. Medical volunteers monitor Wangchuk’s condition throughout the day, checking his heart, kidney, and liver functions. Doctors warn that at this stage of starvation, the body breaks down fat and muscle, leading to extreme weakness, impaired brain function, and electrolyte imbalance. He can barely walk 30 metres to the bathroom without assistance.

The Path Forward

Calls for Wangchuk to end his fast are mounting. Congress MP Shashi Tharoor tweeted that he had already done enough. Over 1,800 prominent figures released a letter urging him to stop, arguing the government lacks “a heart or a conscience.” Yet Wangchuk persists, his whispered words cutting through the chaos: “Come for the rally on Monday.”

On the CJP’s planned march to parliament during the new legislative session, thousands are expected to gather. Whether this will finally force the government to listen remains uncertain. What is certain is that a nation’s young people are no longer accepting broken promises. They are demanding accountability from those meant to serve them, willing to suffer for change that news coverage alone cannot compel.

The question haunting Delhi isn’t whether Wangchuk will recover, but whether India’s government will finally acknowledge that some silences become impossible to maintain.

BBC News