ON the evenings of May 29 and 30, 2026, Aaj Tak managing editor Anjana Om Kashyap sat in her primetime studio and said what she apparently believed needed saying: that India’s YouTube teachers are “do kaudi ke” not worth two pennies. Frauds. People who draw on blackboards not to teach but to grab views, do drama, and make money off students who don’t know better. She said they lack real knowledge and qualifications. She said their rise had hurt the quality of education in this country. She said it on live television, and within hours, millions of people had an opinion about it.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. This all happened right in the middle of NEET-UG paper leak scandal, a crisis in which YouTube educators had been among the loudest and most consistent voices calling out the government, the examination agencies, and yes — the mainstream media — for their failures. Anjana did not address those criticisms. She turned on the critics instead.
The beginning of the war happens to occur on the 29th and 30th of May, during a live stream where Anjana accused YouTube educators of having no real academic depth or qualifications. Yet reaching to hundreds and millions through attractive thumbnails, sensational languages. What she called misleading claims. She argued that their rise had pushed students away from quality schooling and toward coaching centres. She said they exploited students. She called them big frauds. The word she kept returning to, “do kaudi ke”, is a Hindi phrase that means something like “not worth a damn.” It is not a neutral or measured critique. It is a dismissal.
The clip was cut and shared within minutes. By the next morning, it was everywhere.
Abhinay Sharma of Abhinay Maths was one of the first to respond. His question was simple and hard to argue with: if YouTube teachers know nothing and are worth nothing, then who exactly has been preparing millions of students for JEE, NEET, SSC, and UPSC all these years? Who taught the student in a Jharkhand village with no coaching centre nearby? Who kept students going through COVID when schools were shut, and coaching institutes were dark?
The YouTube teachers started responding sooner, frustrated. Khan Sir, Faizal Khan of Khan GS Research Centre, Patna, one of the most followed educators in the country, delivered what became the most widely shared response. He challenged anyone who thinks YouTube teachers know nothing to come and try teaching students themselves. He defended the community’s contribution plainly and without apology. The line that circulated everywhere was short: “Tu apna gyaan apne paas rakh.” Keep your wisdom to yourself.
Suman Mam of Ocean Gurukul took a different angle. She pointed out that she runs free marathon classes, hours-long, open-access sessions for students who cannot afford any coaching at all. She asked, with visible frustration, why a journalist sitting in an air-conditioned studio was calling her a fraud instead of covering the actual exam scandals that were destroying students’ futures.
Shortly before or after the YouTube teachers started responding, students from the corner of the online educational community came forward with their stories. Not the touching PR kind, but the real experience from their life. All of them are telling their side of the story about how they made it through hard times with YouTube videos and how they are grateful to these YouTube teachers.
In March 2026, just two months before this controversy, the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting directed BARC to suspend TV news TRP ratings, citing “unwarranted sensationalism and speculative content.” The government’s own broadcasting regulator flagged Indian TV news for chasing ratings at the cost of truth. And then, weeks later, one of that industry’s most prominent faces accused YouTube educators of chasing views and doing drama. The pot called the kettle a fraud. On primetime. For TRP.
This is why the backlash hit so hard. The criticism Anjana threw at YouTube teachers prioritising engagement over substance, sensationalising, and being motivated by money is a description that fits large parts of Indian TV news far more accurately than it fits most YouTube educators. The difference is that the YouTube teachers were, largely, doing it for free. The screaming panel show was not.
Ok, now to be fair, YouTube education isn’t perfect either. Some overpromise certain points and create a mess. Some build parasocial relationships that feel more like parasitism. Some charge for courses that deliver half of what they claim. A real, honest conversation about accountability in digital education is genuinely needed, and nobody should be above criticism.
But Anjana did not have that conversation. She did not name specific bad actors or point to specific harms. She picked up a single brush, dipped it in contempt, and painted an entire community with it, hundreds of educators and the tens of millions of students who depend on them. That is not accountability. That is exactly the kind of sensationalism she was accusing others of doing.
As of writing, neither Anjana Om Kashyap nor Aaj Tak has said anything further. No apology. No clarification. No acknowledgement that the remarks landed the way they did. The hashtag is still trending. The rebuttal videos keep coming. And nobody is backing off or playing it hard. It’s just keep going as if this is a war without an end.
What this whole mess actually exposed is a power shift that has been building for years. The gatekeepers of education in India are no longer who they used to be. The anchor reaches whoever has the TV on. The teacher on YouTube reaches whoever opens their phone in a hostel room in Patna, in a village in Rajasthan, in a rented flat where a first-generation student is trying to change their life on mobile data alone. Calling that “do kaudi ke” did not make it less real. It just made the gap between the studio and the street impossible to pretend away.
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