My name is Sarvajeet Suman — a common citizen of India, and nothing more. I am not a politician, activist, or journalist. I am one of over a billion people who depends on this country's institutions to be fair, functional, and honest.
This platform is built as an exercise of the fundamental rights guaranteed to every Indian under the Constitution — the right to freedom of speech and expression (Article 19), and the right to know, which forms the bedrock of any functioning democracy. Every piece of information on this site is sourced from public records, court documents, and credible media reporting.
This is a personal initiative — built with the conviction that sunlight is the best disinfectant, and that a well-informed public is the first line of defence against systemic corruption. I am not funded by, employed by, or answerable to any organisation, media house, or external entity.
In the interest of full transparency: I hold a primary membership of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). I am not an active member, do not hold any party office, and am not involved in any party activity, campaign, or function.
I disclose this voluntarily because I believe transparency is non-negotiable for a platform of this nature. The database records paper leak incidents across all ruling parties — central and state — regardless of affiliation. The fact that a BJP primary member has built and published a database that equally documents BJP-era incidents is, I believe, its own evidence of impartiality. Readers are, of course, free to draw their own conclusions.
Every doctor who treats you, every engineer who builds your bridges, every officer who upholds the law, every teacher who educates your children — they all got there through an examination. Public examinations are not bureaucratic formalities. They are the primary filter through which a nation selects the people it trusts with its most critical responsibilities.
When that filter is compromised, the consequences are not abstract. They are felt in hospitals, in classrooms, in courts, in every public office. A candidate who purchased a leaked paper does not suddenly become competent upon appointment. They occupy a seat that belonged to someone who prepared honestly — and they bring incompetence, or worse, contempt, into institutions that require integrity above all else.
A leaked exam does not end with an arrest or a cancelled paper. It starts a chain reaction. Examinations get cancelled, court stays are obtained, re-examinations are delayed — sometimes for years. Hundreds of thousands of aspirants are left in limbo, unable to plan their lives, unable to take up other opportunities.
Meanwhile, the government still needs people to run departments, fill posts, manage services. And this is where the second layer of damage sets in: temporary, contractual, or ad-hoc hiring.
Temporary hiring bypasses almost every safeguard built into regular recruitment. It removes competitive selection. It replaces merit with proximity — to the right official, the right recommendation, the right community or caste group. It normalises nepotism and creates an entrenched class of temporary workers who then lobby, legally and otherwise, for regularisation. By the time the courts clear the backlog and a fresh exam is conducted, the damage to the institution is already done — culturally, structurally, and in terms of public trust.
What makes this particularly dangerous is the sheer scale and regularity with which paper leaks occur in India. These are not isolated events in a single state or for a single exam. From NEET to state PSC exams, from railway recruitment to constable selection — the pattern repeats itself year after year, across governments of every political colour.
That is precisely why EPLR exists. Not to target any one party or administration, but to make the cumulative record visible. When incidents are covered individually in the news cycle and then forgotten, it is easy to dismiss each one as an aberration. When they are placed side by side — year, state, exam, ruling party, accused status — a different picture emerges.
A pattern of systemic failure. One that demands systemic accountability.
"I did not build this because I have lost faith in India. I built it because I have not. A country that can acknowledge its failures honestly is a country capable of correcting them. The students who prepare for years for a fair shot at a government job deserve better. Every citizen who depends on competent public servants deserves better. This is my small contribution toward demanding that better."