For the past few years, much of the public discourse in India seems to revolve around one question: Are you loyal to India? Prove you love India. Prove you belong here. Prove your loyalty. But how exactly is a citizen supposed to prove loyalty to the state?

Perhaps it starts with proving that you are, in fact, Indian. Except even that seems strangely complicated. Your Aadhaar card tells you that it is not proof of citizenship. Your voter ID tells you that it is not proof of age—which is particularly ironic when a voter ID is issued to people who are eligible to vote, meaning they must be at least 18. Your passport, one of the most important documents issued by the Indian government and recognised internationally, is not by itself conclusive proof of your nationality either. So what exactly is supposed to prove that you belong here?

You can have an Aadhaar card, a PAN card, a voter ID, a passport and a birth certificate. You can pay your taxes, vote, work an honest job, follow the law and spend your entire life in this country. Yet somehow, when the question of whether you are Indian enough, loyal enough or patriotic enough comes up, none of it seems to be sufficient. If the documents issued by the state cannot establish your citizenship, and the actions expected of a responsible citizen cannot establish your loyalty, then what exactly can?

Perhaps it is paying taxes. Paying them is one of the most unavoidable responsibilities of citizenship. Yet citizens encounter taxes on almost everything—cars, food, education, healthcare, fuel and countless other goods and services. And despite paying them, many still struggle to access the quality of public services they are supposed to fund. The citizen pays. The expectation of accountability, however, often seems optional.

What about representing India internationally? India has no shortage of talented athletes, engineers, scientists and students. But talent alone cannot create opportunity. It needs investment, infrastructure and access to resources. The person who makes it to the Olympics or onto an international stage is often celebrated as proof of India's potential. But what about the thousands who never got the opportunity to discover theirs?

Then there is perhaps the most basic expectation of citizenship: respect the law. But what happens when following the rules becomes a disadvantage? Drive carefully and within the law, and you may still be hit by someone who ignores every rule on the road. Pursue justice through constitutional and legal channels, and you may wait years—or decades—for a resolution. Report wrongdoing to the police, and there is always the possibility that the person you are complaining about has political connections powerful enough to turn the system against you.

So what exactly is the citizen supposed to do? Pay taxes. Follow the law. Work honestly. Represent the country. Participate in society. Keep every document in order. And apparently, even that is not enough.

Maybe the government should simply publish an official “How to Prove Your Loyalty to India” checklist or manual. It could explain, in exhaustive detail, exactly what citizens are expected to do—and, preferably, what the state intends to provide in return.

The manual should also go into great detail about what citizens can expect in return for every act of loyalty they perform. If citizens are expected to pay their taxes, the manual should explain what public services they are entitled to demand in return. If citizens are expected to work honestly and contribute to the economy, it should explain what level of accountability and protection they can expect from the institutions governing them. If citizens are expected to follow laws and regulations, it should explain what questions they are entitled to ask when those very laws are ignored by those in power. And if citizens are expected to respect the Constitution and its institutions, perhaps they should also be told what they can expect when those institutions fail them.

If loyalty is going to be treated as a contract, then it cannot be a contract in which only one side has obligations. Citizens cannot be expected to endlessly prove what they owe the state while the state remains exempt from proving what it owes them.

Because loyalty cannot be a one-way examination. A citizen's responsibility is not merely to obey the state. The state has responsibilities towards its citizens too: to protect their rights, provide functioning institutions, create opportunity and ensure that the rules apply equally to everyone.

The question, therefore, should not always be, “How can Indians prove their loyalty to India?” Perhaps we should also ask: What is the state doing to prove that it deserves the loyalty it demands?