6 min readApr 26, 2026 04:09 PM IST First published on: Apr 26, 2026 at 04:09 PM ISTA conflict thousands of kilometres away has managed to disturb the price of dinner, drinks, and apparently, date night. The average Indian consumer, who has reliably ignored every foreign war of the last decade, has been forced awake with each new shortage and price hike. When LPG prices rose, she said: I have a second cylinder and an induction stove. When urea ran short, she said: I am not a farmer. When basmati exporters were stranded, she said: I eat sona masoori anyway. Then Diet Coke disappeared from the shelves, and she finally understood that something was indeed wrong.Indians have been quietly reintroduced to a forgotten verb — to ration. Every household has become a small planning office, doing inventory checks before impulsive decisions. How many gas cylinders are in the back? How many litres of petrol are in the car, cans of Coke, and bottles of beer in the fridge? How many condoms are left in the bedroom drawer? The Strait of Hormuz, that 50-km sliver of water most Indians have never thought of, now runs through every room of the middle-class home.AdvertisementThe kitchen reminds us of the LPG shortages in India. 90 per cent of India’s LPG imports pass through the Strait of Hormuz, and unfortunately, near 100 per cent of Indian kitchens prefer to give tadka on a gas stove. The supply of LPG has been diverted to households instead of commercial kitchens and industrial uses, but with a longer booking cycle and steeper prices. Black markets are thriving. Migrant workers, unable to afford to cook for themselves, are making an arduous journey home. Meanwhile, every meal requires a quick decision: Does this really require two burners?Indian exporters are facing the brunt as well. India’s basmati exports to the Middle East have been halted because no insurer will cover Gulf-bound vessels. The Middle East accounts for nearly 70 per cent of India’s basmati exports. With exporters not taking new orders, nearly 4,00,000 tonnes of basmati rice are stuck at ports or in transit. Tonnes of bananas are rotting at Kandla because no refrigerated container vessel will accept the route.Also Read | A Kerala bhajan group’s refusal to apologise for singing a Christian hymn is the moral clarity we needOpen the fridge door, and Hormuz pops up there as well, in the depleting stocks of Diet Coke cans. Diet Coke is sold only in cans in India, and the aluminium required for the cans is, of course, in shortage! The aluminium can shortage hit precisely as zero-sugar drinks were having their breakout year (volumes doubled YoY). Coke is now nudging consumers toward Coke Zero, which, mercifully, comes in plastic bottles) as a substitute. If you’re tempted to drown your tears in a bottle of beer, I’m afraid there is bad news there as well — there’s a glass shortage in India, for reasons that are all too familiar. Furnaces powered by LPG that are required to produce glass are operating at only 25 per cent capacity.AdvertisementFinally, even India’s Rs 8,000 crore bedroom economy is under strain. Since the war began, condom manufacturers have been facing price increases on packaging; a 30 per cent increase in latex; a 25 per cent increase in lubricant; and a 100 per cent price increase of the non-latex condom material nitrile, as the supply chain runs through Hormuz, like everything else. Manufacturers are warning of retail price hikes of up to 50 per cent. The strip in the drawer is now, like petrol and the Diet Coke, a matter of inventory.Though the urban middle class began noticing the depleting Diet Coke supply in April, the farmer began counting the urea bags in February. Urea import prices have doubled, from $510 to $950 a tonne, and domestic urea production has fallen by 40 per cent (because of LNG shortage). Kharif sowing begins in weeks, against a significant national shortfall. The government has begun shifting procurement to Morocco, Jordan, and Indonesia. The effects of this might not touch the Indian household yet, if the diversification strategy works and the subsidy bill can support it.But, worry not, dear reader. The markets work, if you allow them to. Coke is pushing customers to drink Coke Zero and cans are coming in from Sri Lanka at a premium. Urea is being procured from other destinations, and farmers are being nudged to use alternatives. Commercial kitchens are cooking on induction, biogas, and firewood. Wood-fired pizza, once a niche metropolitan choice, now looks like a deliberate instrument of supply-chain resilience. Indore’s storied Chappan Dukan street-food bazaar has moved 56 shops to electric appliances. Induction cooktop sales on Amazon are up 30-fold. The IRCTC has asked its catering units to make do with microwaves on western-line trains. EVs are more popular than ever. If not for the circumstances, it is almost heart-warming to see the market adjusting in real time.you may likeThe chokepoints have always been there. The extent of our exposure to them, however, was largely ours to design. The aluminium can shortage was already brewing before the war began, as BIS certification rules had been quietly squeezing domestic supply for over a year. The LPG dependency persists in part because subsidies obscure its true cost. The urea distortion has hollowed out our soil and our fiscal situation simultaneously. The answer does not lie in rushed policies in favour of autarky, it lies in diversification, fewer single-source choke points, and a willingness to let prices tell consumers what things actually cost.When the Strait opens, the cans return, and the cylinder is full, the inventory in our heads will quietly empty. Diet Cokes will be just a drink, and you won’t worry about Hormuz on date night. But somewhere a farmer will still be counting bags of urea, and the Finance Ministry will still be counting subsidies, and a 50-kilometre stretch of water will still be doing more to set the price of our daily activities than any of us would care to admit.The writer is professor, Takshashila Institution and managing editor, Indian Public Policy Review