Founder of Cockroach Janta Party Abhijeet Dipke was interviewed by France 24 interview – with Gavin Lee, on May 24, 2026. During that interview, Lee asked Dipke if they would change the name from cockroach to something else later, Dipke dropped the bombshell when he replied, “We’ll keep the name cockroach, won’t change it!”
In the age of curated confidence, modern culture constantly tells people to “manifest greatness and good energy.” Social media is overflowing with affirmations: “You are a king.” You are a queen or princess, showcasing your avatars of power peaking to perfection. You deserve abundance. Visualize success. Become your highest self. Entire industries are built around positive thinking, guided imagery, self-branding, and the worship of self-esteem. The modern individual is encouraged to see themselves as extraordinary.
Thus it was shocking in this age of hyper-aspirational identity, millions of people online recently embraced one of the lowest-status symbols imaginable: the cockroach.
That contradiction is psychologically fascinating and worrisome. Why would large numbers of people willingly associate themselves with a creature universally seen as dirty, unwanted, resilient, but despised? Why would a generation raised on “self-love” slogans rally behind an insect people instinctively crush beneath their feet?
The answer may lie not in confidence, but in alienation. Students have become percentages and performers; workers become productivity units; citizens are no more than vote banks; users become algorithms; patients have become queues; the poor become statistics; the unemployed become invisible. Even grief is rushed now, and when people die, headlines move on within days. We are told to think positive, manifest success, work harder, and don’t be negative. But what happens when positivity itself begins to feel like another form of pressure?
There was a time ordinary people, the so-called “cockroaches” of society, could at least escape into cheap pleasures, such as a movie hall, for a few hours to let life loosen its grip. But now even rest feels expensive. Peace itself feels monetized. That’s when the pressure starts building up – and it’s not only applicable to the youth but to every age of society.
The “Cockroach Janata Party” phenomenon appears to tap into something much deeper than humour or internet absurdity. It reflects a silent emotional condition spreading through many societies: the feeling of being unseen, unheard, mocked, and structurally insignificant. The cockroach becomes symbolic precisely because it represents survival without dignity. It survives in corners, under systems, beneath notice. It is hard to eliminate, yet nobody truly values it.
The psychology behind self-identifying with a “low” creature is not necessarily self-hatred. Sometimes, it is protest. Throughout history, marginalized groups have reclaimed insults and humiliating labels as a way of exposing society’s cruelty. By calling themselves cockroaches ironically, participants may be expressing a dark collective joke:
“If the system already treats us like pests, then fine, we will become the pests you cannot ignore.” Humour becomes a coping mechanism for humiliation.
In such an atmosphere, the cockroach metaphor gains power.
A cockroach survives not because it is loved, but because it adapts to hostile environments. It lives in systems built against it. It scatters when the lights come on. It becomes associated with shame, decay, and neglect – exactly the emotional vocabulary many marginalized individuals quietly carry within themselves.
Strangely, the cockroach becomes anti-aspirational honesty. It says:
We are tired of pretending everything is fine.
We are tired of being told to “manifest positivity” while systems ignore us.
We are tired of motivational language that does not match lived reality.
And yet, there is danger here too.
If societies normalize identities built entirely around degradation, irony, and hopelessness, they risk cultivating generations that no longer believe they deserve dignity at all. Humour can expose pain, but it can also slowly internalize it.
Rahul Gandhi reportedly remarked in discussions around student anger and institutional distrust: “When young people stop believing the system listens to them, they stop identifying with the system itself.
Shashi Tharoor commented in a social-media discussion about online satire cockroach movement: “Mockery often becomes the language of the unheard.” The quote was widely reposted by users connected to the CJP meme ecosystem.
Prashant Bhushan reportedly warned that dismissing digitally mobilized youth frustration could backfire: “A democracy should worry when citizens feel invisible.”
Mahua Moitra allegedly remarked during online commentary around the controversy: “People don’t compare themselves to cockroaches because they feel powerful. They do it because they feel crushed.”
Asaduddin Owaisi, while speaking about public humiliation and institutional distrust, reportedly said: “You cannot keep insulting citizens and expect them to continue trusting institutions.”
Pune: Social activist Anna Hazare on Sunday seemed to wake up from his slumber to speak. He said that the popularity of the satirical Cockroach Janta Party reflected the participation of youth in public discourse and such enthusiasm should be encouraged, not ignored.
What made the phenomenon psychologically striking was that many observers gradually realised it was not entirely a joke anymore. The repeated message from commentators was essentially:
Ignore symbolic humiliation long enough, and people may eventually organise around the humiliation itself.
This was depicted on May 25, 2026, when class 12 student Vedant Shrivastava publicly alleged that the Physics answer sheet uploaded by the Central Board of Secondary Education during the re-evaluation process did not belong to him. He pointed to handwriting differences and inconsistencies compared to his other papers and personal notes.
Instead of immediate empathy, sections of social media turned against him. According to reports, the teenager was mocked, abused, branded “anti-national,” and even called “Pakistani” online simply for raising concerns about the examination process. Much of the outrage spiralled absurdly because his X/Twitter account location reportedly showed “South Asia,” which some users weaponized against him.
The controversy intensified further when a senior journalist associated with Doordarshan allegedly mocked or trivialized the student’s complaints online rather than treating the issue with seriousness. Critics argued that the response reflected a broader culture where young citizens questioning institutions are often ridiculed before being heard.
Then came the dramatic reversal. CBSE later acknowledged that the answer sheet had indeed been mismatched due to a technical or administrative error and reportedly sent the student the correct paper. Officials confirmed the discrepancy and said the marks would be revised accordingly.
Psychologically, the episode resonated because it revealed several uncomfortable truths simultaneously: A teenager had to go viral online for his grievance to be taken seriously, the public attacked the complainant before examining the evidence; institutional error was initially treated as impossible; Social media transformed a distressed student into a political target.
This is why many people later linked the controversy to the rise of meme-driven protest identities like the so-called “Cockroach Janata Party.”
The symbolism became painfully clear: People increasingly feel that when they speak up politely, they are ignored; when they persist, they are mocked; and only when outrage becomes viral does the system respond.
The deeper tragedy is not that people joked about being cockroaches.
The tragedy is that so many instantly understood the feeling.
