A day before the Miss World finale in Hyderabad, Jayesh Ranjan was in no mood for pleasantries. With preparations in overdrive and last-minute calls pouring in from ministers demanding extra passes, the Special Chief Secretary wasn’t hiding his irritation. The overflow didn’t just cause logistical headaches — it reportedly cost a few media houses their chance at a scheduled interview, which might explain the pointed tone in some coverage the following day. At the venue, it was clear the crowd was tighter than the seat count as even senior officials weren’t spared. Health Secretary was seen being escorted around, searching for a seat — a search that stretched a good few minutes without result. But the most talked-about moment wasn’t the chaos or the couture. It was Jayesh Ranjan himself — not behind the scenes, but seated squarely on the Miss World jury. For many watching, that single image spoke volumes. The bureaucracy’s most familiar face in Hyderabad’s event circuit had moved from backstage coordinator to centre-stage decider — and everyone noticed.
Spot: BRS Targets Bureaucrats, Even Sympathetic Voices Now Cautious
A year and a half into its role as opposition, BRS has made one thing clear — its criticism is no longer limited to political opponents. Bureaucrats have steadily become central to the party’s narrative, and not everyone is comfortable with the direction it’s taking. Last week’s release of an audio clip involving Alugu Varshini was the latest in a string of moves that seemed calculated to cast serving officers as politically compromised. Sandeep Kumar Jha, the Collector of Sircilla, has been publicly labelled a Congress loyalist. Vikarabad Collector Prateek Jain finds himself under constant watch, with BRS circles dissecting even routine field visits for political intent. Jayesh Ranjan was been under crossfire due to the Miss World event. Names like Adityanath Das — the government advisor — keep surfacing in their statements, often positioned as shadow influencers behind key anti-Telangana decisions. Arvind Kumar, once cautiously defended by the party during the Formula E controversy, now finds that support noticeably subdued. Shikha Goel too has come under fire, with BRS questioning how cybercrime cases have been handled under her watch. What’s telling is the growing discomfort even among those who once viewed BRS with some measure of goodwill. Several senior officials who previously described the party’s criticism as “part of the game” are now privately noting a shift — the lines between political accountability and personal targeting are beginning to blur. In trying to corner the government, BRS seems to be cornering the bureaucracy — and even sympathetic voices are starting to take a step back.
Phones Kept Buzzing as the Top Cop Spoke
During a recent media interaction involving top IPS officers, the usual decorum played out in front — statements, questions, formal responses. But behind the scenes, another pattern quietly unfolded. As the senior-most officer took the mic, phones among other officials in the hall began to buzz. Message after message. Silent chuckles. Momentary glances. It wasn’t missed by the journalists in the room. While the address was in progress, several officers appeared more invested in their phones than in the mic. The contrast was hard to ignore. Some say it’s typical — the kind of internal chatter that picks up precisely when public protocol demands silence. In police circles too, attention has its own quiet hierarchy. As corridors of power shift and change, some rituals — like silent group chats during briefings — remain timeless.
For ‘IPS’ Too, Media Gets a Reminder
Journalists received a quiet reminder — not about a press event or protocol update, but about using designations correctly. A message circulated from the office of Shahnawaz Qasim, requesting that IPS be mandatorily included after his name in all reports. The preferred format, now well-circulated, reads: Shahnawaz Qasim, IPS, Director General, Drugs Control Administration, Telangana. This follows a similar instruction issued earlier by another senior officer, who had politely reminded the press to always include Director General after his name. With both DG and IPS now officially re-affirmed through written requests, newsrooms are treating these not as one-offs but part of a growing trend — formal title enforcement through informal channels. In a world where titles carry weight and headlines travel far, the press has once again been reminded: in bureaucracy, even the punctuation holds protocol.
