To Yogendra and Barkha, with Love

I watched the engaging discussion between Yogendra Yadav and Barkha Dutt on the three-language policy in school education with great interest. It set my thoughts racing, compelling me to pen my views on the subject. (Yogendra Yadav On Modi vs Stalin’s War Over Language Policy|”Sanskrit Weaponised To..” | Barkha Dutt)
A Matter of Perspective
Before diving into the heart of the matter, it is essential to understand the backgrounds of Yogendra, Barkha, and myself—there is a genuine reason for this.
Yogendra Yadav hails from a lineage of educators. His grandfather was a teacher, and his father was a professor of economics. He studied in Jawaharlal Nehru University, having learned three languages in school.
Barkha Dutt, too, comes from an intellectually enriched background. Her father was an Air India employee, while her mother was a renowned journalist at Hindustan Times. She studied in St. Stephen’s and Jamia Millia, having learned three languages in school.
As for me, my roots are humbler. My parents are illiterate, capable only of signing their names. I studied in local government schools, where the curriculum included only two languages: Tamil and English (from Class 3 onwards). I pursued B.Sc (Agriculture) through a reservation quota and later studied Rural Management at IRMA without any reservation benefit. My fluency in Hindi and Kannada was acquired on the job.
Why do I highlight these backgrounds? Because our environment shapes our worldview. What we often consider the absolute truth is, often, merely our perspective on the world.
The Overlooked History of School Education Policy
What struck me most in the discussion was how both Barkha and Yogendra treated the National Education Policy (NEP) and the three-language formula as an established given. A glance into history, however, would reveal that education was a state subject until 1976. It was brought under the concurrent list only during the Emergency.
One might argue that being on the concurrent list, the Union Government’s stance takes precedence over that of the states. However, my well-informed friends in Tamil Nadu point out that this applies only to laws made in a subject, not to policy decisions. The Supreme Court has, in fact, ruled thrice on this matter. While my understanding here is limited, I would be glad if someone could elaborate further.
Nevertheless, we can all agree that state governments bear the primary responsibility for school education, with the Union Government playing a supplementary role by providing funding and special schemes.
Tamil Nadu’s Unique Approach to Education
Tamil Nadu, like several other states, has a State Council of Educational Research and Training that designs its own curriculum. Its primary focus is inclusivity and simplicity, catering to the most vulnerable sections of society. The state textbook society is well-structured, ensuring free textbook distribution to government school students. In recent years, even higher education books—including Gray’s Anatomy for medical students—have been translated into Tamil.
To understand Tamil Nadu’s education model, one must recognise its deep-rooted connection with social justice. The journey began in the 1920s when government schools were opened for Dalit children in Chennai. However, low enrollment persisted due to widespread poverty—many children prioritized finding food over attending school. This led to the inception of the midday meal scheme, a small yet revolutionary experiment that significantly boosted attendance.
Fast forward to the 1950s, Chief Minister Kamaraj expanded the initiative, establishing more schools and extending free meals to rural poor students. Though impactful, the program primarily benefited OBC students, with Dalit children still largely absent from schools, working instead as farm laborers.
The 1980s saw Chief Minister M.G. Ramachandran (MGR), a beloved actor-turned-politician, taking a decisive step. He implemented a universal midday meal scheme, covering all children across rural and urban areas. Critics, including then Planning Commission Deputy Chairman Dr. Manmohan Singh, opposed the hefty financial burden—nearly 10% of the state budget. But MGR stood his ground, and the program’s long-term success was undeniable. A decade later, as Finance Minister, Dr. Manmohan Singh scaled up Tamil Nadu’s model to a nationwide scheme. The lesson? Governance should not be dictated by distant bureaucrats in Delhi; solutions must emerge from the grassroots.
The Middle-Class Exodus and Government Response
Until the late 1980s, government schools were the gold standard in Tamil Nadu, attended by both the richest and the poorest. However, when MGR permitted private schools, the middle class—predominantly intermediate and upper castes—migrated en masse to private institutions. Consequently, government schools became the refuge of the economically marginalised, particularly OBC and Dalit students.
Recognising their struggles, the government stepped in. Free uniforms, textbooks, cycles, and bus passes were introduced to ease financial burdens. The midday meal scheme was further strengthened with the inclusion of eggs, thanks to Chief Minister Karunanidhi.
Despite these efforts, a significant hurdle remained: girls’ education. Many dropped out due to social stigmas, exam failures, or the lack of basic facilities like toilets. The government tackled these issues head-on—abolishing student detentions until 9th grade, distributing free sanitary pads, and even incentivizing girls’ education through a marriage assistance scheme linked to schooling completion.
The results were profound. Tamil Nadu’s Gross Enrollment Ratio (GER) in higher education today stands close to 50%, almost double the national average.
The Flip Side: Learning Outcomes and New Challenges
Despite the success in access to education, Tamil Nadu has faced criticism for learning outcomes. Reports such as ASER frequently highlight deficiencies in government school performance.
The present administration has introduced additional reforms, including replacing the marriage assistance scheme with a direct cash benefit—Rs. 1,000 per month—to every girl child studying in government schools when they go to college. Boys, too, have demanded inclusion, and the scheme has been expanded to all government school students pursuing higher education.
Another landmark initiative is the free breakfast scheme, launched in 2022 to address malnutrition and ensure children begin their school day on a full stomach.
The Three-Language Policy: A Misplaced Priority?
The debate over the three-language policy must acknowledge the stark realities of government school students. For many, affording a uniform is a challenge, let alone grappling with an additional language. The tragic case of Anitha—a Tamil Nadu student who excelled in her state board exams but was unable to crack NEET due to the lack of access to coaching—exemplifies the systemic inequalities at play.
I have a daughter, and we live in Chennai. Our home has every facility, including air-conditioning. We enrolled her in one of the best schools in the country and could afford high-quality coaching for her IIT entrance exam. She passed with flying colors and went on to study at IIT Chennai.
Contrast this with Anitha’s life. She grew up in a one-room house with an asbestos roof, lacking even a toilet. Losing her mother at a young age, she had to cook for herself before heading to school. Despite scoring 1176 out of 1200 in the state board exams, she was locked out of a medical career due to NEET’s structural barriers. She lacked the resources for private coaching, a luxury my daughter had. She fought her case in the Supreme Court but lost. In despair, she ended her life.
This stark juxtaposition underscores the deep inequalities in our education system. Merit, in a country like India, is often a privilege. Children from underprivileged backgrounds must first receive quality education before being burdened with additional linguistic expectations. The focus should be on bridging fundamental gaps, not on imposing policies that disproportionately impact the disadvantaged.
The Fiscal Reality
Adding a third language is not just an academic burden—it is a financial one too. Tamil Nadu’s education budget stands at approximately ₹42,000 crore per year, with nearly 90% allocated to salaries and pensions. The introduction of a third language would necessitate hiring at least two additional teachers per school, an avoidable strain on the exchequer.
Moreover, data reveals that 87% of Indians never move beyond their own districts for employment. Is it logical to burden 100% of students for the sake of the 13% who migrate?

The Way Forward
Tamil Nadu’s two-language formula has stood the test of time, delivering better educational outcomes than many northern states. The state has demonstrated the ability to design a curriculum tailored to its needs, with a strong foundation of educators, policymakers, and parental involvement.
Perhaps, instead of imposing a one-size-fits-all language policy, the Union Government should take a leaf out of Tamil Nadu’s book—prioritising inclusive, empowering education that serves the poorest, ensuring that no child is left behind.
If every state ensures strong foundational education in the mother tongue and English, the debate over a link language will become redundant. In the end, education must be about empowerment, not imposition.
Excellent Article with Full of Facts.
Great article with a bunch of data points.
Absolutely to the point . Great job sir
Very well written.Precise and argued with data.
“To Yogendra and Barkha, with Love”
How intentionally and rightly the author has left out “Yadav” and “Dutt” tails , yet put into perspective the caste and class previlage they enjoy and the prism through which they look into a solution . Regarding Tamil Nadu , ful 100+ years of Problem -> Solution -> FEedback has been given within the word limits .
Excellent article
Excellent!!! “Merit” is indeed a privilege in India.