When the Election Commission of India announced the schedule for elections to 242 assembly seats in West Bengal—this time in just two phases instead of the prolonged five-phase exercise seen earlier—it triggered a wave of predictable political theatrics from Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee. But few expected the Trinamool Congress supremo to clutch at something as flimsy as an alleged shortage of LPG cylinders. The claim simply does not stand up to facts. India today consumes roughly 28–29 million tonnes of LPG annually, translating to about 80,000 tonnes per day. According to data repeatedly cited by the Ministry of Petroleum and Natural Gas and the public sector oil marketing companies—Indian Oil Corporation, Bharat Petroleum and Hindustan Petroleum—the country maintains buffer stocks of nearly 15–16 days of consumption, besides continuous imports and domestic production. The Modi government has also clarified that daily dispatches of domestic LPG cylinders exceed 1.2 crore cylinders, while commercial LPG supply remains steady for hotels, restaurants and small industries. In simple terms, the supply chain is functioning. There is no national shortage. Yet Mamata Banerjee chose to take to the streets, claiming a looming LPG crisis allegedly triggered by the West Asia conflict. The optics were dramatic, but the premise was hollow. Ironically, at a time when global supply routes are under strain due to tensions involving Iran, Israel and the United States, India has managed to keep its energy supply stable. Much of that credit lies with New Delhi’s diplomatic outreach led by External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar, who ensured that Indian cargo vessels continue to receive safe passage through the strategically sensitive Strait of Hormuz. While several countries have faced severe energy disruptions, India has largely avoided panic. At worst, consumers may see minor price adjustments of a few rupees per cylinder, a far cry from the catastrophe being portrayed by the Trinamool Congress. So why the sudden street protest? The answer lies not in LPG cylinders but in the political cylinder heating up under Mamata Banerjee herself.
Two developments appear to have rattled the Trinamool Congress leadership. First is the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls by the Election Commission, which reportedly led to the deletion of nearly 60 lakh questionable entries from voter lists across the state. Second is the administrative reshuffle involving key officials, including the Chief Secretary and Home Secretary, whose roles during past elections had drawn sharp criticism from opposition parties accusing the state machinery of aiding the ruling party. For a government facing growing anti-incumbency, these developments are politically unsettling. The TMC’s discomfort has been compounded by a string of controversies. The explosive events in Sandeshkhali exposed disturbing allegations of intimidation and land-grab by local strongmen linked to the ruling establishment. The outrage over a major hospital incident further damaged the government’s credibility. Even more extraordinary was Mamata Banerjee’s decision to personally intervene in a legal matter related to a raid on an election strategist’s office—an act that reportedly invited sharp scrutiny in the Supreme Court of India. Against this backdrop, the LPG “crisis” begins to look less like governance and more like diversion. The Union government has already warned states to prevent hoarding or black-marketing of cylinders, urging strict action against anyone attempting to create artificial scarcity. In fact, Union Health Minister and senior BJP leader J. P. Nadda recently alleged in Parliament that a legislator linked to the opposition bloc had been caught hoarding cylinders to manufacture panic. If true, that revelation exposes the real game behind the LPG narrative. West Bengal has always been politically volatile, but rarely has a sitting chief minister taken to the streets over an issue so easily disproved by data. At a time when global tensions demand national unity and responsible governance, stoking fears over non-existent shortages does little credit to the office Mamata Banerjee holds. If anything, the episode underscores a deeper truth: when political ground begins to slip, even a gas cylinder can be turned into a campaign prop. But voters are unlikely to be fooled forever. In the high-stakes battle ahead, facts—not theatrics—may ultimately decide the fate of West Bengal’s politics.
