[In this Post Diwali-Pre Halloween weekend, Effkay is back! The Bihar elections are on and the usual coterie of politicians are off on the campaign trail. Meanwhile, the the Washington Post spun a factual yarn that needs your serious attention here [click this!]. Briefly it says that LIC was forced into bailing out Adani]

In the neon-lit chaos of New Delhi, where the air is flavoured with the scent of Post- Diwali smog and the ghostly chill of Halloween, a tale unfolds that’s equal parts festive and frightful.

Here’s Gautam Adani, India’s second-richest man, his $90 billion net worth sparkling like a million Chinese-made Diwali diyas, yet flickering under a mountain of debt.

His empire—coal mines, airports, seaports, and green energy ventures—is piling up bills faster than kids collect candy on Halloween.

U.S. authorities have slapped him with bribery and fraud charges, part of a “multi-billion-dollar scheme,” and those oh-so-picky American and European banks are dodging him like trick-or-treaters fleeing a haunted house.

But fear not, for the Indian government, led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi—Adani’s old Gujarat mate—has lit a Diwali sparkler of salvation! Internal documents, leaked faster than laddoos vanish at a festival feast, reveal a dazzling plan to channel $3.9 billion from the Life Insurance Corporation of India (LIC) into Adani’s coffers.

Golden Goose

LIC, that saintly state-owned entity meant to shield poor and rural families, is now the golden goose in this Diwali-Halloween mash-up, its funds repurposed to keep Adani’s empire from going bump in the night.

“This government supports Adani and will not let any ghouls or gremlins harm it,” declares Hemindra Hazari, a Mumbai finance sage, probably checking under his bed for Modi’s enforcers. And why not? Adani’s no mere mortal; he’s a “visionary entrepreneur” whose conglomerate boasts “remarkable resilience,” per Department of Financial Services (DFS) memos. Never mind the 2023 Hindenburg report—a financial horror story accusing stock manipulation—or ongoing SEBI probes, which Adani claims are as dead as a Halloween skeleton. Those U.S. charges? “Concern individuals, not Adani companies,” the Group insists, waving them off like Oscar Wilde’s Canterville Ghost.

Diwali Bonus

The plan, conjured by DFS, LIC, and NITI Aayog—India’s think tank, plotting with the zeal of kids carving pumpkins—was approved by the Finance Ministry faster than you can say “Diwali bonus.”

Its “strategic objectives”? To light up Adani’s empire like a festival skyline, “signaling confidence” and luring other investors to the party.

With Adani’s debt surging 20 percent in a year, this isn’t just a bailout—it’s a taxpayer-funded Diwali firecracker show, with LIC’s policyholders as the unwitting audience.

Just imagine the DFS offices: bureaucrats in festive kurtas, sipping chai under flickering diyas, drafting memos that glow with praise for Adani. “Ten-year government bonds are as dull as a Halloween without candy,” they scribble, eyeing Adani’s bonds—7.5 to 8.2 percent returns from Adani Ports and Adani Green Energy versus a measly 7.2 percent from government securities. Indian credit agencies slap AAA ratings on these like rangoli stickers, while Fitch, the grumpy foreign ghoul, mutters BBB-. That’s festive optimism—or maybe just proximity to Modi’s throne.

The breakdown? $3.4 billion in bonds for Adani’s ports and green energy arms, plus $507 million to boost LIC’s stakes in subsidiaries like Adani Green (from 1.3 to 3 percent) and Ambuja Cements (from 5.69 to 8 percent). If valuations stabilise post-U.S. probes, why not toss some into gas and power transmission? LIC, ever the eager elf, begged for a “swift review” in a May letter, citing “time-sensitive” investments for its 250 million policyholders.

Nothing says “Happy Diwali” to the hardworking and tax-burdened middle class like knowing their premiums are funding Adani’s seaport spectacular.

Risks? Ha!Ha!

The documents, like a Halloween tale, admit risks. Adani’s securities are “sensitive to controversies,” prone to price swings scarier than a Houthi threat to his Haifa port in Israel.

LIC lost $5.6 billion on paper post-Hindenburg, dropping to $3 billion before clawing back to $6.9 billion by March 2024.

Political backlash? The opposition Congress and Communists are screaming “misuse of public funds” louder than firecrackers. Mitigation? Spin a “transparent” tale, sprinkle some regulatory fairy dust, and promise economic prosperity brighter than Diwali lights.

We categorically Deny stuff!

Adani Group, dressed in its best festive denial, scoffs. “We categorically deny any government plans,” they say, insisting LIC’s investments are as routine as handing out candy.

Their growth “predates Modi’s leadership,” they add, as if we didn’t see Modi and Adani exchanging Diwali greetings at the Navi Mumbai airport opening.

U.S. allegations? “Categorically denied.” SEBI probes? Mostly buried, they claim, sidestepping Reuters’ whispers of lingering ghosts.

Tim Buckley, an Aussie Adani-watcher, calls it crony capitalism, alive and cackling like a Halloween witch. India has “higher priorities,” he says—schools, hospitals—but why bother when you can light up Adani’s empire? From humble Gujarat roots, turning desert into Mundra port, Adani’s now a titan under siege. Western banks, spooked by U.S. probes, flee like trick-or-treaters from a haunted mansion.

The SEC’s civil probe could lock Adani out of U.S. dollars—a financial fright worse than any ghost story. Yet Adani boasts raising $7 billion since November 2024, claiming they’re as nutritious as Diwali Kaju Katli.

Your Insurance vs Billionaire Bailouts

Here’s the satirical spark: why sell assets when Modi’s government plays Great Pumpkin, dishing out billions? LIC’s policyholders—India’s hardworking masses—are the real trick-or-treaters, their premiums turned into Adani’s candy haul. “Aligns with LIC’s mandate,” the documents declare, as if rural insurance and billionaire bailouts share the same festive spirit. Hazari calls it “abnormal,” warning that Adani’s fall could haunt LIC, leaving taxpayers to exorcise the mess.

I’ll leave you with a true Indian-Western Bollywood montage like that ‘Thamma’ film : Modi and Adani, silhouetted against Diwali fireworks, toasting with lassi while coal mines puff and ports gleam. The government as Adani’s personal Diwali lamp, glowing with taxpayer cash. Opposition parties? Mere jack-o’-lanterns, grinning impotently. LIC’s denial post-publication—“allegations are baseless!”—is as convincing as a a bedsheet swearing it’s a man-eating ghoul.

In this Diwali-Halloween crossover, Adani dances by a “different set of rules,” as Buckley notes. International raters? Bah, humbug! Indian optimism shines brighter. If Adani thrives, Modi lights diyas; if he stumbles, taxpayers douse the flames. It’s a festive fright-fest where cronyism sparkles like a rangoli, and the Indian people—bless their hearts—keep funding the show.

Here’s to 2025, where the only thing scarier than Halloween is the bill for Adani’s Diwali bash.

  Effkay, Gautam Adani, LIC, Media, NARENDRA MODI, Washington Post