When Classrooms Become Bazaars, The Nation Pays: Aradhya Bhagavan Das on WB SSC Scam

With the Supreme Court upholding the Calcutta High Court’s decision to invalidate nearly 27,000 teaching and non-teaching staff appointments made by the West Bengal School Selection Commission (SSC) in 2016, the vexed issue of SSC scam (teachers’ recruitment scam) in West Bengal has resurfaced all over again. The ruling, delivered on April 3, 2025, confirmed the earlier judgment, declaring that the recruitment process was marred by serious irregularities, leading to the cancellation of these appointments. The Calcutta High Court had earlier found extensive irregularities in the recruitment process, including tampering with OMR sheets and instances of rank manipulation, ultimately leading to the cancellation of these appointments. There are similar such instances in other states in the past also. But is it purely a political issue, or something more fundamental, more deep rooted in our society?

In a free-wheeling interaction with Bizz Buzz, Aradhya Bhagavan Das, Secretary (Education) of a large international socio-spiritual organisation, a Gaudiya Vaishnavism practitioner since last 15 years, who also holds a corporate experience of more than 10 years in various organisations including some Big4 organisations, delves deeper into the issue and seeks to find out what is fundamentally wrong in our society and our system that gives rise to such uncalled for incidents time and again. Call it a reflection on India's most recent education scam or something else!

How do you see the current educational situation in the state, in the wake of the SST scam and all that?

In West Bengal, jobs once reserved for torchbearers of wisdom were bartered like vegetables in the marketplace of corruption—awarded not for merit but for manipulation. A profession once reverenced has been reduced to a racket. The classroom, once a sanctum, now stinks of compromise. This is no mere scandal—it is a solemn funeral of conscience under the tricolor canopy.

People keep debating over if someone is qualified or not for a particular job based purely on educational qualifications. So, is education just acquiring degrees?

In the dramaturgy of nationhood, no undertaking is holier than the cultivation of the mind—not through information, but by insight; not by marks, but by meaning. True education is not mass-manufactured degrees, but the consecration of self. It is the sacred transmission of civilizational memory from one generation to the next. But what happens when this yajña is profaned? When schools become dens of exchange, and teachers, mercenaries of mediocrity instead of missionaries of meaning? That is what I am worried about.

What is your take on the latest Supreme Court verdict which made the whole issue resurface?

The Supreme Court’s recent cancellation of over 26,000 illegal appointments by the West Bengal School Service Commission is more than a juridical blow—it is an epistemological earthquake, shaking the rotting foundation of Indian pedagogy.

This disaster is not due to ignorance but to institutionalized vice. Education—once a crucible of illumination—has been hijacked by cartels of power. Seats once meant for the noble task of teaching were sold in bazaars of political patronage, reducing the scaffolding of merit to rubble.

So, what according to you is the need of the hour?

In moments like this, the Bhagavad-gītā sounds with timeless urgency:

yadā yadā hi dharmasya glānir bhavati bhārata

abhyutthānam adharmasya tadātmāna sijāmy aham

"Whenever and wherever there is a decline in religious practice… at that time I descend Myself."

(Bhagavad-gītā 4.7, vedabase.io)

This verdict is not just a correction—it is a clarion call for dhārmic rebirth, a moral resurrection of India's pedagogic soul.

So how do you look at current things/scenario in light of the perspectives of various spiritual orders in this country?

Śrīla Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda, founder-ācārya of ISKCON, never reduced education to employability. To him, learning was a devotional pursuit, and ignorance of divine principles, civilizational suicide:

“If human beings are not provided the facility to know about God, then they are at the level of cats and dogs. You cannot have peace in a society of cats and dogs.” [The Science of Self-Realization (1975)]

The roots of this wisdom stretch deep. His guru, HDG Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī hākura Prabhupāda, once thundered:

“This education, this so-called knowledge, is nothing but a tool of sense gratification and exploitation… It is knowledge disassociated from reality, from God, from spiritual life.”

From him, the young Abhay Charan De (later Śrīla Prabhupāda) received the divine mission to spread the message of Lord Caitanya—a mission rooted not in degrees, but in dharma.

Echoes of such wisdom find resonance in Swami Dayananda Saraswati’s call: “Back to the Vedas!”—not a retreat, but a renaissance built on eternal principles.

Is this sad state of affairs and the degradation a new phenomenon or particular to this state?

This rot is neither new nor regional. The Vyapam scandal in Madhya Pradesh turned examination halls into arenas of deceit. Tripura’s SSC scam replayed the same script—bureaucracy orchestrating betrayal.

Again, the Gītā warns:

karmay-evādhikāras temā phalehu kadāchana mā karma-phala-hetur bhūr mā te sago 'stv akarmai

"You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but not to the fruits of action…"

(Bhagavad-gītā 2.47, vedabase.io)

But here, phala (outcome) was worshipped and karma prostituted. The result? A generation raised not on values, but on vacuous ambition; not to serve, but to survive.

So, what needs to be done to come out of this?

To heal this wound, we must go beyond reform. We must return to philosophical roots. Here, NEP 2020 emerges—not just as a bureaucratic blueprint but a promise for cultural revival.

If implemented in its true spirit, NEP 2020 can resurrect the sacred pulse of Bharatiya pedagogy. Its emphasis on Indian Knowledge Systems (IKS)—vyākaraa, dharmaśāstra, āyurveda, nyāya, and vedānta—is not nostalgia, but necessity.

IKS offers students more than syllabi—it offers samskāra, integrating intellect with integrity and learning with life. This is not a cosmetic upgrade, but a civilizational reclamation.

Institutions like Banaras Hindu University (BHU), envisioned by Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya, embody this synthesis of śāstra and science. Malaviya declared:

"The university is not a place merely for the acquisition of knowledge, but for the cultivation of wisdom and character."

On the other side, Jadavpur University, while secular, has contributed richly to India’s intellectual tradition, nurturing minds that blend critical thought with cultural rootedness. Together, these form the dialectic of tradition and modernity—vital for true rāra-nirmāa.

Swami Vivekananda, lion of spiritual nationalism, once thundered: “We want that education by which character is formed, strength of mind is increased, intellect is expanded, and by which one can stand on one’s own feet.”

But is this what we offer today?

Ironically, what do we offer today? A curriculum of compromise. A pedagogy of plagiarism. A republic where youth are raised not as seekers of truth, but as cynics addicted to shortcuts.

Once again, the Gītā reminds us:

yat yat ācharati śhrehhas tat tad evetaro jana sa yat pramāa kurute lokas tad anuvartate

"Whatever action a great person performs, others follow."

(Bhagavad-gītā 3.21, vedabase.io)

When fraud is institutionalized at the top, duplicity becomes dogma below. If recruiters auction merit, students learn corruption as culture.

So what is this crisis in Indian education all about?

The crisis in Indian education is not administrative—it is existential. Degrees don’t build nations—values do. When learning becomes profane, the Republic’s soul dissolves. Let us not whitewash this as a “scam.” Let us name it for what it is: a civilizational cry. Not merely a year of dismissals—but a moment when India looked into the mirror and saw the smear.

Let this not end in committees and cosmetic edits. Let it begin in conscience. Let reform rise, not in protest but praāma—an homage to the lost sanctity of the classroom.

Let it rise not from courtrooms, but from classrooms. Let it rise with the power of sanātana dharma, resounding through Parliament, through schools, and through the hearts of India’s youth. Jñāna. Bhakti. Dharma. That is our tricolour.