India's youth story is a study in contradictions - of abundance and scarcity, promise and drift. As the British economist Joan Robinson once quipped, whatever 'you can rightly say about India, the opposite is also true.' Few studies illustrate that paradox more crisply than the latest State of Working India report by Azim Premji University.

Start with the headline number: 367 million young people between the ages of 15 and 29 - the largest youth population in the world, and making up a third of India's working-age population. It is an enviable demographic bulge, the kind that powered East Asia's economic miracles. Yet, beneath this statistical bounty lies more troubling arithmetic. Of these, roughly 263 million are outside the education system and constitute the potential young workforce. India, in other words, is rich in youth but poor in jobs.

There is, at first glance, reason for optimism. Over four decades, the country has transformed its educational landscape, the report finds. Enrollment in high school and colleges has surged, broadly keeping pace with India's development levels. Gender gaps have narrowed. Caste barriers, though far from erased, have reduced. Between 2007 and 2017, the share of students from the poorest households enrolled in higher education rose from 8% to 17%.

A far more educated and connected generation is entering the labour market. Young workers are moving out of agriculture faster than older cohorts over the long term, finding opportunities in manufacturing and services. On paper, this looks like the making of a classic demographic dividend. 'Never before have so many young Indians been as educated and as connected,' the report says.

The bad news: the transition from education to employment remains stubbornly broken. Graduate unemployment in an increasingly challenging labour market is strikingly high. The last half-decade has not generated salaried jobs in adequate numbers, the report finds. Nearly 40% of graduates aged 15-25 - and 20% of those aged 25-29 - are jobless, far higher than among the less educated.

Part of this reflects how labour markets evolve over a life cycle. As Rosa Abraham, economist and lead author of the report, states: 'When you're young, you wait - and report unemployment.' Track the same cohort over time and joblessness falls; by their late 20s, many are working, says Abraham.

This phenomenon of early joblessness points toward an 'aspiration-availability mismatch' compounded by the ability to wait. Over time, 'you mellow, build networks and take what you can', often in the private sector.

This is not a new problem. British economist Mark Blaug published a book in 1969 tracing a gap between education and jobs that had been evident since the 1950s. And between 1983 and 2023, graduate unemployment has remained high at around 35-40%. Yet since 2004-05, barely 2.8 million of the 5 million graduates produced annually have found jobs, with even fewer securing salaried work.

While India's total employment grew from 490 to 572 million in the two years after the pandemic, nearly half of new jobs were in agriculture, a sector marked by low productivity. Women are increasingly finding work in hard-hit regions, often pushing them towards self-employment or unpaid work driven by necessity.

Migration remains a crucial coping mechanism as young workers chase opportunity, moving from poorer states like Bihar to more prosperous regions such as Tamil Nadu. This highlights both the disparities and the mismatches in the job market that young Indians face today.

Despite the impressive growth in education and the creation of jobs, the crux of the issue remains—India has not yet aligned its educational advancements with productive, well-paying job creation at scale. The warning signs are evident; as the country approaches 2030, the window for reaping its demographic dividend may begin to close. The key question remains: what kind of economy is India building?