Fasting was once a grim Gandhian weapon, or a religious thing you'd do as a kind of worship through denial, or a doctor's prescription for shrinking waistlines. Today, in the age of Instagram reels and X testimonials, it's the Swiss Army knife of self-denial. Why waste a perfectly good fasting routine on mere health when it can double as a political statement? The hunger strike is back in the headlines - this time, in the time of intermittent fasters, keto warriors and juice- cleansers. In a world where everyone has opinions and hashtags, the political and the personal now share a common shrinking stomach. A protester refusing jamun for justice and an influencer skipping carbs for abs are essentially running parallel campaigns - each boosting the other's ratings in the marketplace of attention.

The hunger striker now competes with lifestyle fasters who post 'Day 3: Still no bread' selfies. Meanwhile, the dieter, once mocked for vanity, gains gravitas by hitching her abstinence to a cause. 'No food until climate action' sounds nobler than 'No food until I fit into skinny jeans'. The body is the billboard, stomach the stage, and absence of food the loudest megaphone. Hunger strike and diet, once worlds apart, now converge in a single truth. In the attention economy, even hunger must multitask. So, why not make it mean something meaningful?