India’s rich linguistic landscape is often captured by the popular adage: “Every few kilometres, the language changes.” While not a literal demographic metric, it reflects a profound truth – a country like ours has an extraordinary diversity of languages, dialects, and traditions. The linguistic reorganisation of states in the 1950s and 1960s recognised that language is central to identity and democratic representation.Yet, six decades later, rapid urbanisation has created a silent crisis. Major metropolitan hubs like Delhi, Bengaluru, Mumbai, and Chennai have become massive melting pots where regional languages and local traditions are increasingly being contested in public life, education, and cultural policy.Rather than cultivating multilingualism as a living asset, state priorities frequently consolidate around a few dominant, politically lucrative languages. Delhi, as the national capital, should be a model for how city growth and deep heritage can coexist. Instead, the systematic weakening of institutions meant to preserve the country’s linguistic heritage reflects a broader public policy failure: the refusal to recognise that development should strengthen, rather than erase, the cultural fabric of a cosmopolitan city.The illusion of inclusionDelhi frequently promotes itself as a vibrant mosaic of identities. Through high-profile publicity campaigns, state-funded carnivals, and curated heritage walks, the Delhi government projects an image of an inclusive metropolis that honors every community. The official narrative is one of dignity, equity and belonging. Beneath this carefully managed rhetoric, however, lies a stark reality of institutional abandonment. While the state aggressively funds and maintains a handful of established language bodies – such as the Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, Sanskrit, Sindhi, Maithili, Bhojpuri, Garhwali Kumaoni and Jaunsari academies; it has systematically mothballed a host of other approved institutions. Chief among these casualties is the Haryanvi Academy, designed to be the primary cultural voice of Delhi’s rural roots. Many other language academies have met the same fate like Haryanvi.The true measure of a democratic society is not the grandeur of the transient festivals it sponsors, but the longevity of the institutions it builds to safeguard its history and collective memory. Public spectacles are fleeting; institutions endure. In Delhi’s cultural landscape, this principle has been inverted. The state has consistently prioritised visibility over legacy and symbolism over substance, leaving the institutions meant to anchor the city’s rural identity to fade into legal oblivion. A legal shellLong before Delhi expanded into a sprawling metropolis, hundreds of historic villages formed the economic and cultural backbone of the region. Their dialects and traditions survived centuries of transformation. In August 2018, the Delhi government appeared to finally champion this legacy when the Cabinet approved the establishment of 15 new language academies for Tamil, Bengali, Marathi, Gujarati, Telugu, Malayalam, Kannada, Oriya, Assamese, Kashmiri, Marwadi, Pali & Prakrit, Haryanvi and one for International Languages Academy aimed at fostering a genuine sense of dignity and identity among diverse communities of the national capital of the world’s largest democracy.On January 2, 2019, the Haryanvi Language Academy and others were formally registered under the Societies Registration Act, 1860. On paper, the languages had secured their institutional home. In reality, that promise was never realised. Successive disclosures obtained through the Right to Information (RTI) Act reveal that all these language academies have existed as little more than a “legal shell”. For six consecutive financial years – from 2019-20 through 2024-25 – not a single rupee was utilised from the allocated budget for them.This is not a matter of administrative inertia; it is systemic starvation. The academies lack a functioning governing body and even a physical office. Furthermore, the department has admitted to not having any records of Haryanvi language material across Delhi’s public library network. No information is available on ancient languages like Tamil, Telugu, Kannada and Malayalam that are officially recognized as nation’s classical languages having ancient histories associated with them. There are no active government schemes, research grants, or educational programs designed to introduce youth to the history and linguistic nuances of Delhi’s villages nor the linguistic diversity of the country.This complete paralysis stands in stark contrast to Delhi’s established language institutions. Academies for Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, and Sanskrit operate with fully staffed governing boards and robust annual budget estimates for 2026–27 ranging from Rs 8.5 crore to over Rs 16 crore. Meanwhile, the other academies are denied the baseline administrative framework required to even open their doors. The ‘eventisation’ of cultureThis disparity is not driven by a scarcity of public funds, but by an arbitrary prioritisation of how those funds are deployed. While permanent cultural infrastructure is starved out of existence, resources are instantly mobilised for the “eventisation” of culture – high-glamour, short-term spectacles that yield immediate political visibility at the expense of sustainable heritage protection. Official expenditure records from the Sahitya Kala Parishad perfectly illustrate this imbalance. For instance, a single two-day event in the name of 360 Delhi villages – the Shahpur Jat Delhi Village Festival – costed the exchequer Rs 21.25 lakh. Expenditure Item at Shahpur Jat village MelaCommitted Amount (INR)Artist Payments (Celebrity Performers & Singers)Rs 6,39,200Tentage & ElectricalsRs 7,98,420Hoardings, Backdrops & Ambience DesignRs 5,06,769Grand Total (Single Two-Day Event)Rs 21,25,762Source: RTI records from Sahitya Kala Parishad, GNCTD ExpenditureA weekend festival may generate temporary buzz, but it cannot replace institutional investment. Permanent archives, language preservation, history and research require structural support, not dismantled tents. This carnival model consumes millions on temporary assets, treating native culture as a consumable commodity for urban entertainment rather than an inherited historical right. A commercially celebrated festival cannot preserve a civilization. Cultural neglectThis cultural neglect does not happen in a vacuum; it directly mirrors the physical and spatial degradation of Delhi’s village culture. The same administrative apathy that allows language academies to remain dormant governs the treatment of village land. In rural villages like Raota, agricultural land has been routinely compromised by being treated as a convenient flood buffer for urban wastewater, leaving hundreds of acres of farmers’s private farmland permanently waterlogged. Similarly, in villages like Budhela and Goyla Khurd, villagers have been forced to approach the Delhi high court to protect their historical village ponds (johads) from arbitrary construction in the name of cultural center buildings and urban extension roads. Taken together, these are not isolated incidents; they represent a distinct pattern where both the cultural voice and the physical geography of native areas are systematically overlooked to serve the needs of a consuming metropolis. From a public law perspective, this state-sponsored inaction is deeply concerning. Article 29 of the Constitution guarantees citizens the right to conserve their distinct language, script, and culture. When a government formally resolves to establish different language academies and subsequently starves them of funds and personnel for over half a decade, it reduces a constitutional principle to an insincere political gesture. Cultures rarely disappear through overt prohibition; they fade far more effectively through structural neglect. The Delhi government’s failure isn’t just in lack of funding, but an arbitrary exercise of administrative discretion allocating Rs 16 crore to established language academies while giving nothing to newly registered ones, despite them sharing identical legal statuses.The Indian national capital, ideally a vibrant city of diversity, should serve as a place of residence where the (migrant, refugee, and the village identities) find an inherent sense of belonging. However, Delhi’s modern history has become a profound “politics of convenience,” where a carefully managed rhetoric of inclusion masks a stark reality of institutional abandonment.A roadmap for structural equityIf the Delhi government is genuinely committed to preserving the diverse fabric of the national capital, it must pivot away from transient entertainment, invest in sustainable institution-building and take the following steps:Constitute governing bodies, allocate dedicated physical office spaces, and appoint qualified Executive Secretaries for all dormant language academies. Direct the Department of Art, Culture and Languages to divert a significant portion of funds away from temporary entertainment toward core linguistic preservation, such as publishing historical village records, supporting local regional authors and invite scholars from across the country for celebration of our diversityMandate the Directorate of Education (DoE) to stock oral and written histories of Delhi’s villages in public school libraries, ensuring the younger generation learns that Delhi’s history did not begin with modern master plans. Introduce a policy anchoring a fixed percentage of the cultural budget to building permanent infrastructure within the villages themselves, rather than exhausting resources on transient city festivals. Involve other states to collaborate and prioritise the promotion of their languages and unique cultural heritage to bring the citizenry closer to each other to learn and celebrate our unity in diversity in the public interest at large.Urban resilience and cultural diversity cannot be achieved by favouring certain demographics while entirely blanking out others. True diversity requires structural equity. Be it Haryanvi in Delhi, Kannada in Bengaluru, Tamil in Chennai or any other language in the diverse country like ours, any community systematically denied its institutional voice is a community being systematically denied its history. Paras Tyagi is the President of the Centre for Youth Culture Law and Environment (CYCLE), Delhi. The views expressed are personal.