22 August 1947 — 7:00 AM
All India Radio Headquarters, Delhi
The hum of static filled the narrow studio as engineers adjusted dials and tubes.
The scent of hot tea and freshly printed bulletins mixed in the air.
On the other side of the glass, the announcer — calm, clear, and composed — leaned toward the microphone.
The "ON AIR" lamp flickered red.
> "Good morning, citizens of India.
This is All India Radio, Delhi.
The Government of India has announced the establishment of the National Nutrition and Food Security Commission, a statutory body under the direction of Prime Minister Anirban Sen, to ensure that every schoolchild in the nation receives at least one nutritious meal a day.
Additionally, the Prime Minister's Office has confirmed that the draft framework for a universal pension fund is under development, aiming to guarantee financial dignity for retired citizens of both government and private sectors.
The Prime Minister has stated that, quote, 'A hungry child cannot build a strong nation, and a starving elder cannot bless its future.'
Unquote."
The brief pause that followed wasn't silence — it was stunned quiet.
Even the old floor fan seemed to stop for a moment.
---
The Reactions
By 8:00 AM, the news had spread like morning sunlight across the subcontinent.
In Calcutta's coffee houses, students debated fiercely between sips of sweetened tea.
> "He's trying to turn education into a socialist factory!"
"No, idiot! He's ensuring poor children can actually study instead of fainting in classrooms!"
In Madras, a group of fisherwomen laughed by the shore, one holding a transistor to her ear.
> "He's giving food to our children before our boats return! Finally, someone who knows hunger."
In Lahore, still scarred by partition, a teacher clutched her hands in prayer.
> "May God bless that man… he's thinking of children when the world thinks of borders."
---
Foreign Press
The New York Times, dated 22nd August 1947, headlined:
> "NEW INDIA ANNOUNCES NATIONAL SCHOOL MEAL ACT — A YOUNG PRIME MINISTER'S BOLD WAR ON HUNGER"
The Times of London cautiously wrote:
> "India's New Administration Moves Swiftly — A Welfare State Before an Economy?"
Le Monde (France):
> "Une Inde révolutionnaire — nourrir avant d'industrialiser."
("A revolutionary India — feeding before industrialising.")
The Guardian (UK), not without irony, remarked:
> "Perhaps London should learn from Delhi this time."
---
In a Modest Government Quarter, New Delhi
A ceiling fan creaked rhythmically above the dining table.
Steel plates clinked with parathas and potato curry.
Radio crackled faintly in the corner, still replaying the announcement.
Raghunath Banerjee, a 43-year-old accounts officer in the Railways Department, sat listening intently.
His wife, Leela, was serving tea.
> "They said pension fund," she said curiously.
"Do you think it's real? A fund that guarantees pension for everyone? Even private workers one day?"
Raghunath chuckled, half-hopeful, half-skeptical.
> "Leela, governments love promises. But maybe… this one's different. He's too young to be cynical."
Their son, Arun Banerjee, 21, home from Delhi University for the break, looked up from his notebook.
> "Actually, Baba, I think it can work. If they build it like a contributory model — small cuts from salaries, pooled with state and industry contributions — it'll grow fast. A national investment fund, you could say."
Raghunath smiled faintly.
> "Spoken like a finance student."
Leela folded her arms, still uncertain.
> "So, you're saying we'll be able to retire without begging our children?"
> "Maybe, Ma," Arun said, grinning. "If we invest early."
The radio continued:
> "...the Prime Minister has urged every state government to coordinate with local panchayats and food cooperatives to establish the supply chain for meals..."
Leela sat down beside her husband.
> "Maybe this boy, this Anirban Sen, really knows what hunger means."
Raghunath nodded quietly.
> "Yes. He must have felt it once — only the hungry understand hunger."
---
10:00 AM — Prime Minister's Office
Stacks of telegrams covered Anirban's desk.
Messages from villages, municipalities, and even foreign diplomats had begun to flood in.
Saraswati Devi entered the room, file in hand.
> "The Education Ministry received 400 letters since morning," she said.
"Half of them are from mothers. They're calling it 'Annapurna Yojana'."
Anirban smiled faintly.
> "A good name. Feed a nation before you lead it."
Ambedkar, entering behind her, added dryly:
> "For once, Prime Minister, I agree with your poetry."
They shared a rare laugh.
> "Let's make it real, Doctor," Anirban said. "Before poetry turns into history."
Outside, the tricolor fluttered in the morning sun — glowing against a sky that, for the first time in centuries, didn't smell of empire but of hope.