Hushed chatters, mad swings: Three weeks of reporting India’s online gaming banMint's Shouvik Das recalls how a single phone call last month thrust him into the chaos that came with the Indian government’s decision to ban online real-money gaming.
In The Beat Report, Mint’s journalists bring you unique perspectives on their beats, breaking down new trends and developments, and sharing behind-the-scenes stories from their reporting. This week’s report is by Shouvik Das, who writes about defence, space and technology for Mint. I began tracking the online-gaming industry around seven years ago—well before the sector truly boomed. Along the way, I’ve witnessed the rise and demise of money games in the country first-hand. On the afternoon of 19 August, I received a frantic call from someone I’ve known for nearly five years. His usually calm demeanour barely concealed the urgency in his voice as he asked: “Have you read the leaked draft yet?” “Leaked draft of what?” I asked. “I’m sending it to you right now. They’re banning our entire industry.” Three weeks ago, it was this call that set in motion a wrecking ball that has since bulldozed India’s $23-billion online-real-money gaming industry—a sector that became popular, thanks in large part to the now-famous ad jingle: “Yeh mai kar leta hoon, aap Dream11 pe team banaao (I’ll take care of the mundane chores, you make your cricket team on Dream11).” Read our full coverage of the ban on online gaming and its aftermath. The first two daysAs the unravelling began, I found myself in the thick of it. That Tuesday closed with consecutive phone calls with lawyers who have represented the sector, industry body heads who have dedicated a decade to money games, executives glued to the news cycle in disbelief, and veterans across ministries—all trying to trace where the ban had been conceived. The next day—20 August—was one of my busiest reporting days in the past year. From letters to the ministry of home affairs, to meetings with consultants chasing insider information, to a press briefing by Union information technology minister Ashwini Vaishnaw, the day was consumed by efforts to trace why the Centre was willing to take such a sweeping legislative step.
During the briefing, some fascinating insights came out. When meeting officials at the helm of the ministry of electronics and information technology (MeitY), I asked why the suddenness of the ban—where did it originate from? A senior official responded promptly: “It may seem sudden from the outside, but to be frank with you, it really wasn’t sudden. In fact, it has been five years in the making.” A second official, with a wry smile, added more forcefully: “Our doors have always been open, but they [the industry players] haven’t done what’s right by corporate governance. Instead, this sector has been trying to weasel its way through whatever legislative gaps and loopholes it could find. If we tried to tax them, they said we were stifling them. As per convenience, they’ve called themselves a state matter—and then cried for central regulation when regulators compared them with gambling. None of this was sudden.” The messaging from within government walls was clear: they’d seen enough. That evening, the industry followed up with us—a group of about 10 policy reporters in New Delhi—bombarding us with “background information”. One note claimed that 200,000 jobs were now at stake, another said the government would lose billions of dollars—$2 billion, going by one estimate—as a result of the ban. “Is this true?” I asked one of the government officials I had spoken to earlier. “Maybe. The exact quantum is likely around this. But that’s okay—our principles in this case are more important than a solitary tax impact. Plus, it’s not like the impact cannot be handled—we’re also investing in building an alternative sector,” he said. The second day ended on that note. Late at night, speaking with one of the industry executives, I asked: “Why are you all only pushing numbers and figures off the record? That lends little credibility—the source of information is what holds weight. Why not voice your opinion out loud?” “We just don’t want to aggravate things,” he told me. In two days, the Centre had achieved what it wanted: Rattling executives who, for the past three years, had spent more time in courtrooms than in their own offices. Mid-week movesThe past week saw a curious trend—the sudden emergence of unknown online-gaming companies in far-flung tier-III cities and beyond. Two senior lawyers I’ve known for half a decade told me that most of them are proxy firms with difficult-to-establish ties to the big companies. So far, I haven’t independently verified this claim. Interestingly, these firms have now taken their cases to state high courts. As I tracked these petitions, one executive sent me a story I had written just a day before the ban—on how most companies had failed to align even on fundamental policies, strategies, and frameworks. That story, ironically, laid the foundation for the ban now in place. While companies are trying to coordinate representations through industry bodies, they’ve arrived too late, with too little to offer. ICYMI: India's online gaming industry awaits Supreme Court ruling amid discord The ban, however, has made Dream11 even more of a household name. In the past two weeks, you’d be forgiven for hearing “online gaming” as often as “AI”. One advertiser said the ban would reduce annual ad spending by over $1 billion. At this point, our reporting expanded to tracking the course of action money-gaming companies would take. Then came the lay-offs: first MPL, then Games24x7, then Baazi Games. For now, Dream11 and Gameskraft have said they are not immediately cutting their workforce, nor are they contesting the law—at least from their side. Slow dancing in a burning roomFor now, the winding down of the money-gaming industry is seeing organizations pivot. One of them, Gameskraft, has even announced a contest among employees to propose innovative ideas for the company’s next move. Could all this have been avoided? Truth be told, the online-gaming industry faced multiple pivotal junctures. In 2023, Rajeev Chandrasekhar, then minister of state for IT, tried to establish a self-regulatory structure to legalize and legitimize the sector. The move never materialized. Over the past two years, I tracked around five such applications that the government refused to clear, citing “conflicts of interest”. At any rate, the online-gaming industry has had a tumultuous ride. From nothing, it was on its way to becoming an empire at breakneck speed—Dream11 alone has raised a staggering $1.3 billion, one of the highest ever among Indian startups. Should they have been more careful in playing with laws and governments? Perhaps. But for now—unless the newly enacted law changes overnight, the world of money games is akin to John Mayer’s melancholic waltz of a song, Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. Is this the end? Perhaps not. And we’ll extend our reporting as developments unfold. Mint was the only publication to report about the industry’s internal discord at length, as well as a granular picture of meetings and lay-offs alike. For an unbridled reading experience, subscribe to Mint Premium with my personal discount code—SHOU30—to get 30% off. Happy reading! Edited by Lokesh Yadav. Produced by Tanay Sukumar.
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शुक्रवार, 5 सितंबर 2025
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