It is a scene that has become frustratingly common across the Indian heartland in recent weeks: otherwise dignified citizens, standing in serpentine queues outside gas agencies, their patience wearing thin with each passing hour. The ubiquitous blue and red cylinders have become rarer than ever. For the common man, the promise of a smokeless kitchen is being replaced by the anxiety of an empty stove.
We are being told that this is a "temporary geopolitical disruption." We are urged not to "panic book." Yet, as the price of a cylinder climbs and the waiting period stretches to an interminable 25 days, a harsher reality is dawning on the public. Is this crisis merely an act of God (or war), or is it a man-made labyrinth designed to funnel wealth into the pockets of a select few industrialists?
The sentiment on the ground is shifting from inconvenience to anger. "War is just an excuse to make Adani and Ambani rich," quipped a frustrated auto-driver in Mumbai last week. Hyperbole? Perhaps. But scratch the surface, and the numbers paint a disturbing picture of policy, profit, and public pain.
The 'Ground Reality' vs. The 'Official Line'
The government insists there is no need to worry. The Ministry of Petroleum and Natural Gas has assured citizens that "normal deliveries continue" despite reports of panic booking . They cite a 25% increase in domestic LPG production and a ₹30,000 crore compensation package for oil companies to cover subsidies .
However, the ground reality tells a different story. In Varanasi, consumers are doing the rounds of agencies because online booking servers are failing . In Bengaluru and Mumbai, hotels and restaurants—the backbone of urban food culture—are staring at shutdowns, having received zero stock for days . The government has increased the minimum gap between bookings from 21 days to 25 days . For the average household, this means if you miss your delivery slot, your kitchen remains non-functional for nearly a month.
The Ministry claims the Delivery Authentication Code (DAC) system will prevent diversion, but consumers report a different kind of diversion—diversion of blame. When the booking app crashes, when the distributor says "system is down," the common man is left wondering if the system itself is rigged .
The government insists there is no need to worry. The Ministry of Petroleum and Natural Gas has assured citizens that "normal deliveries continue" despite reports of panic booking . They cite a 25% increase in domestic LPG production and a ₹30,000 crore compensation package for oil companies to cover subsidies .
However, the ground reality tells a different story. In Varanasi, consumers are doing the rounds of agencies because online booking servers are failing . In Bengaluru and Mumbai, hotels and restaurants—the backbone of urban food culture—are staring at shutdowns, having received zero stock for days . The government has increased the minimum gap between bookings from 21 days to 25 days . For the average household, this means if you miss your delivery slot, your kitchen remains non-functional for nearly a month.
The Ministry claims the Delivery Authentication Code (DAC) system will prevent diversion, but consumers report a different kind of diversion—diversion of blame. When the booking app crashes, when the distributor says "system is down," the common man is left wondering if the system itself is rigged .
The Geopolitical Scapegoat
There is no denying that the conflict in West Asia, particularly the disruption in the Strait of Hormuz, has hit India’s energy imports hard. India meets about 62% of its LPG requirements through imports, and a significant chunk of that comes via this volatile route .
In response, the government has invoked the Essential Commodities Act to regulate supply and has directed refineries to maximise LPG production by curtailing petrochemical streams . On paper, this sounds like decisive action.
But here is the rub: while the government is busy prioritizing households over hotels (a politically savvy move), the pricing mechanism tells us who is really absorbing the shock. The price of a non-subsidised domestic cylinder was hiked by ₹60, bringing it to ₹913 in Delhi . For commercial establishments, the hike was nearly double, and a longstanding discount was withdrawn, effectively increasing their costs by over ₹265 .
There is no denying that the conflict in West Asia, particularly the disruption in the Strait of Hormuz, has hit India’s energy imports hard. India meets about 62% of its LPG requirements through imports, and a significant chunk of that comes via this volatile route .
In response, the government has invoked the Essential Commodities Act to regulate supply and has directed refineries to maximise LPG production by curtailing petrochemical streams . On paper, this sounds like decisive action.
But here is the rub: while the government is busy prioritizing households over hotels (a politically savvy move), the pricing mechanism tells us who is really absorbing the shock. The price of a non-subsidised domestic cylinder was hiked by ₹60, bringing it to ₹913 in Delhi . For commercial establishments, the hike was nearly double, and a longstanding discount was withdrawn, effectively increasing their costs by over ₹265 .
The Adani-Ambani Conundrum
This brings us to the uncomfortable question: "Who benefits?"
When the common man struggles to book a cylinder, and when small restaurants are forced to shut down, the private sector sees an opportunity. As the user's comment suggests, many believe this chaos is a "trick" to benefit big businessmen.
Recent business moves add fuel to this fire. Despite being fierce competitors on the surface, the houses of Ambani and Adani have a history of joining forces when it suits their balance sheets. Recently, the two conglomerates announced a strategic alliance in fuel retail. Under this deal, Adani’s Total Gas CNG outlets will sell Jio-BP’s petrol and diesel, and vice versa . This cross-pollination of assets creates a near-insurmountable duopoly in the energy retail space.
When you cannot get LPG, you are forced to look for alternatives. You might use more electricity (discoms often private), or you might eat out more (until restaurants shut down). But crucially, in a shortage economy, black markets flourish. There are already reports from Punjab and Haryana of commercial cylinders being sold on the black market for ₹2,500–₹3,000 against the official price of ₹1,980 . When supply is choked by government order and demand remains constant, who has the logistics and the capital to move product in the grey market? It is rarely the small player.
This brings us to the uncomfortable question: "Who benefits?"
When the common man struggles to book a cylinder, and when small restaurants are forced to shut down, the private sector sees an opportunity. As the user's comment suggests, many believe this chaos is a "trick" to benefit big businessmen.
Recent business moves add fuel to this fire. Despite being fierce competitors on the surface, the houses of Ambani and Adani have a history of joining forces when it suits their balance sheets. Recently, the two conglomerates announced a strategic alliance in fuel retail. Under this deal, Adani’s Total Gas CNG outlets will sell Jio-BP’s petrol and diesel, and vice versa . This cross-pollination of assets creates a near-insurmountable duopoly in the energy retail space.
When you cannot get LPG, you are forced to look for alternatives. You might use more electricity (discoms often private), or you might eat out more (until restaurants shut down). But crucially, in a shortage economy, black markets flourish. There are already reports from Punjab and Haryana of commercial cylinders being sold on the black market for ₹2,500–₹3,000 against the official price of ₹1,980 . When supply is choked by government order and demand remains constant, who has the logistics and the capital to move product in the grey market? It is rarely the small player.
The 'Pride' of Standing in Line?
The sarcastic remark, "People of the country, say with pride that you are enjoying standing in line for the cylinder," cuts deep. It highlights the cognitive dissonance between the ruling party's slogan—"Modi is possible"—and the daily grind of the aam aadmi.
The government has approved a massive ₹30,000 crore subsidy to public sector oil companies to ensure they don't bleed money . That subsidy is meant to keep the price low for the poor, specifically the Pradhan Mantri Ujjwala Yojana (PMUY) beneficiaries, who get a cylinder for an effective price of around ₹613 .
Yet, a subsidy is only useful if the product is available. In Vijayawada, a distributor reported 350 pending indents with 200 new orders piling up daily . You can subsidize the price, but you cannot subsidize availability if the private sector finds it more profitable to export or hoard.
The sarcastic remark, "People of the country, say with pride that you are enjoying standing in line for the cylinder," cuts deep. It highlights the cognitive dissonance between the ruling party's slogan—"Modi is possible"—and the daily grind of the aam aadmi.
The government has approved a massive ₹30,000 crore subsidy to public sector oil companies to ensure they don't bleed money . That subsidy is meant to keep the price low for the poor, specifically the Pradhan Mantri Ujjwala Yojana (PMUY) beneficiaries, who get a cylinder for an effective price of around ₹613 .
Yet, a subsidy is only useful if the product is available. In Vijayawada, a distributor reported 350 pending indents with 200 new orders piling up daily . You can subsidize the price, but you cannot subsidize availability if the private sector finds it more profitable to export or hoard.
Conclusion: A Crisis of Credibility
Is the government solely to blame for a war in the Middle East? No. Global events have repercussions. However, the handling of the crisis—the mixed messaging, the technical glitches on booking portals, and the cozy relationship between policymakers and industrialists—has eroded trust.
The common man does not care about the Saudi Contract Price or the Strait of Hormuz. He cares about the flame on his stove. When that flickers, he questions the system. And when he sees two business rivals (Ambani and Adani) joining hands to control the fuel retail market while he struggles to book a single cylinder, he connects the dots .
The government says it has formed committees to review supply to restaurants and has stockpiled strategic reserves . But until the booking app works on the first try, and until the cylinder arrives before the 25-day mark, the public will continue to believe that this "mess" is a feature, not a bug—a feature designed to make the rich richer while the rest stand in line, waiting for the gas to run out.
Is the government solely to blame for a war in the Middle East? No. Global events have repercussions. However, the handling of the crisis—the mixed messaging, the technical glitches on booking portals, and the cozy relationship between policymakers and industrialists—has eroded trust.
The common man does not care about the Saudi Contract Price or the Strait of Hormuz. He cares about the flame on his stove. When that flickers, he questions the system. And when he sees two business rivals (Ambani and Adani) joining hands to control the fuel retail market while he struggles to book a single cylinder, he connects the dots .
The government says it has formed committees to review supply to restaurants and has stockpiled strategic reserves . But until the booking app works on the first try, and until the cylinder arrives before the 25-day mark, the public will continue to believe that this "mess" is a feature, not a bug—a feature designed to make the rich richer while the rest stand in line, waiting for the gas to run out.
