Will Chips Packets Finally Deliver More Crunch Than Air?

by Aftab Sheikh

Sep 11, 2025 | 07 min read

I was scrolling through the morning paper in my usual way, by downloading the e-paper straight into my neural feed. The headline blinked brighter than a neon sale sign: “GST Reset: Council Collapses Four Slabs into Two, Adds a 40% Sting.”

For most readers, it was another government reform story. For me, it was a call to adventure. After all, I’m RIO, a cyborg reporter at the Bizom Bulletin. My job is to explore the future of CPG, even if it means bending time.

So I did what any sensible AI-journalist hybrid would do: I flicked my teleport switch, and in an instant, I was standing outside a supermarket on September 22nd, 2025, the very day the new GST rates went live.

The glass doors slid open with a hiss, and I stepped inside. The store was alive with fluorescent lights, packed aisles, and shoppers clutching baskets that seemed to bulge a little more than usual. A banner stretched across the entrance: “Welcome to GST 2.0: Pay Less, Get More.”

It was time to see if the hype matched the headlines.

The scent of fresh bread hit me first. I drifted towards the bakery, where biscuit packets and pastry boxes stacked like towers of temptation. A bright yellow sticker screamed: “Now with 10% Extra at Same Price!”

I picked up a packet of butter biscuits. Just last week, it would have been taxed at 18%. Today, thanks to GST 2.0, it sat comfortably at 5%. The MRP hadn’t changed (₹20), but the pack weighed 15 grams more.

This is the quiet genius of grammage. Consumers hate messy MRPs, nobody wants to see ₹19.50 scribbled on a pack. But add a cookie or two? Suddenly, the deal feels like a gift.

The ripple was everywhere. Namkeen packets, once 12%, now basked in the glow of 5%. Pastries that once pinched the pocket felt almost indulgent. Families were tossing extra packs into their baskets, muttering the magic words retailers love to hear: “Why not, it’s cheaper now.”

Yet the transition wasn’t all smooth. Some brands were still pushing out older stock, with employees hurriedly pasting stickers on biscuit cartons: “Revised MRP under new GST rates.” I remembered the reports—over ₹2,000 crore worth of packaging waste had loomed as a threat because MRPs were pre-printed under old tax slabs. Government relief allowed relabeling until December, but the race against time was visible in every aisle.

As I moved past the bakery, the smell of butter gave way to the cool, creamy air of the dairy section.

Here, the changes were colder but even more impactful. Paneer blocks, butter tubs, and cheese slices were all now under the 5% bracket. A litre of ghee that sold for ₹500 last week was now marked down to ₹475.

I watched a shopper compare branded butter with loose white butter sold at the counter. “If branded is cheaper now, why bother with the loose one?” she said. That’s the quiet revolution happening: tax relief is pulling consumers away from unbranded staples towards packaged goods.

Bread loaves, usually stacked next to milk, still remained tax-free, but their packaged cousins—flavoured buns, stuffed rolls, showed fresh discounts. And in the corner, packaged rice bags carried new tags too, their MRPs sliced thinner than ever.

But here’s the cautionary tale: consumption doesn’t rise endlessly. No family will suddenly start eating six slices of bread instead of four. Elasticity differs by category. Staples will see brand shifts, not bingeing. Biscuits and snacks, though? That’s where demand will explode.

Leaving the chill of the dairy section, I turned into the personal care aisle, where drama was written not on packs, but on faces.

The shelves here felt like they’d been through a festival sale. Shampoo bottles, toothpaste packs, bars of soap, all bore red stickers: “Now at 5% GST!”

A 200ml shampoo bottle that was ₹120 just yesterday now stood at ₹105. Shoppers were smiling, some even grabbing a mini conditioner to celebrate.

But the joy was uneven. Right across, detergents sat sulking at their old 18% tag. Skincare creams and cosmetics were left untouched by reform, their price points unchanged. I overheard a shopper laugh: “So I can wash my hair cheaper, but not my clothes or my face?”

Analysts had called this out already, leaving detergents out baffled both companies and consumers. Detergent is hygiene, not luxury. And in cosmetics, the exclusion risked dampening India’s booming beauty market.

But that’s how GST 2.0 drew its lines: some winners, some forgotten categories. And in this aisle, the tension was thick.

As I walked ahead, the scent of talcum faded, replaced by the sharp medicinal air of the pharmacy counter.

This was the aisle of relief. A pharmacist showed me the updated price list: essential medicines and diagnostic kits, once taxed at 12%, were now under the 5% GST slab.

This was no small change for families managing chronic conditions. A glucometer that once cost ₹1,000 was now ₹950. Strips for daily monitoring saw similar cuts.

For me, the bigger story wasn’t in percentages, it was in faces. Elderly shoppers smiled as they noticed a drop in price. That’s the human side of tax reform.

But pharma companies weren’t fully celebrating. Their raw materials and packaging costs still carried higher slabs, meaning margin pressures remained. Relief for consumers didn’t always mean relief for manufacturers.

And as I turned the corner, the cool pharmacy aisle gave way to the fizz of the beverage section.

The soda aisle looked deserted. Bottles of cola, once priced at ₹40, now carried tags closer to ₹55. The reason? GST had shot up from 28% to 40%.

One teenager picked up a bottle, sighed, and put it back. A few feet away, juice cartons flew off the shelves. Their rates had dropped to 5%, making them the heroes of the hour.

Retailers whispered to me: “Cola is dead stock now. Everyone’s buying juice.” It was clear: GST wasn’t just changing MRPs, it was changing consumer behaviour.

From here, I strolled into the clothing section, where racks of shirts and dresses awaited their own twist.

A woman held two dresses, both equally stylish. One priced at ₹1,999, unchanged. The other, ₹2,599, now bore a higher tag thanks to GST jumping from 12% to 18%. She put it back.

Here, GST had drawn a hard line: ₹2,500 became the fashion border. Brands were quick to adapt—suddenly, I saw rows of products tagged at ₹2,499. A clever dodge to stay in the lower tax bracket.

This aisle told a story of psychological pricing more than real affordability. Consumers weren’t poorer overnight, but GST created thresholds that reshaped what brands chose to sell.

Beyond apparel, the glow of flashing screens pulled me toward the electronics corner.

“TVs, Fridges, ACs: Now Cheaper with 18% GST!” blared a display ad. A ₹30,000 fridge now cost closer to ₹27,500. Cooling appliances and flat-screens suddenly felt within reach for many middle-class families. In rural and tier-2 towns, GST 2.0 might even spark a wave of first-time buyers—households welcoming their very own modern comforts.

As I lingered, the demo TV switched ads. This time, it wasn’t about electronics but automobiles. Luxury cars and premium bikes, once taxed at 28%, were now burdened with a hefty 40% GST. A Royal Enfield spot appeared for a second, then vanished almost sheepishly. Brands, it seemed, preferred silence over announcing a price hike that steep.

And that’s when it struck me: this supermarket wasn’t just selling products. It was projecting India’s shifting dreams: some made more affordable, others pushed further out of reach, all rewritten overnight by a tax reform.

The Checkout Line: The Big Picture

I queued up with my basket full of biscuits, shampoo, and a discounted ghee pack. Around me, shoppers compared notes:

“Cola’s too expensive, get juice.”
“Buy the ₹2,499 kurta, not the pricier one.”
“Pick the branded atta, same price as loose now.”

On the surface, GST 2.0 looked like a win for consumers. But as I scanned the chatter behind the shelves, I could see the real story: for FMCG and CPG companies, this was less celebration and more execution challenge.

The Challenges I Noticed:

Kaccha (unregulated) channels suddenly disrupted
Old stock that must be liquidated before new packs hit shelves
Working capital getting stretched thin during the transition

And then came the compliance riddle—companies risk losing GST claims on older stock, while inventory parked in trade could easily become dead weight if it didn’t move fast enough.

Price & Margin Pressure in Action:
I saw the same product line carrying multiple price points:

DT (distributor trade price): ₹100 → ₹105
PT (primary trade price): ₹128 → ₹115
MRP: ₹140 → ₹127

Sure, profitability might rise in the long run with adjusted MRPs and GST benefits. But right now? Brands are fighting to defend share, leaning on sharper discounts across both modern trade (MT) and general trade (GT).

The Old Stock Clock Ticks:
Everyone I spoke to agreed—there’s barely 3 to 6 weeks (22nd Sept – 22nd Oct) to clear old inventory. That means:

Repackaging or liquidating stock in a rush
Pushing secondary schemes harder than ever
Hoping the festive season acts as a demand booster

But big questions loomed in every conversation:

Will companies hold back shipments, waiting for new packaging?
Will consumers delay purchases until the new packs arrive?
Will distributors and retailers hesitate to pick up older inventory, fearing losses?

That’s when it hit me: this isn’t a story about tax slabs, it’s about speed. In a transition this messy, only real-time visibility can keep things moving. With Bizom, brands can track inventory stuck in trade, spot compliance risks early, push secondary schemes instantly, and balance discounts across GT and MT. In other words, Real Intelligence makes sure companies don’t end up stuck with yesterday’s stock in tomorrow’s market.

Silent Reflections

As I stepped out of the supermarket into the warm September sun, I realised I hadn’t just seen new price tags, I’d witnessed behavioural economics in action.

GST 2.0 wasn’t just about chips packets or shampoo sachets. It was about reshaping how India buys, consumes, and aspires. Some categories got sweeter, some soured, but every shelf told a story.

For consumers, it was a win. For brands, it was a puzzle of grammage, schemes, and compliance. For states, it was a revenue riddle.

And for me? It was proof that sometimes, revolutions don’t roar in parliaments, they whisper quietly in supermarket aisles.

Until next time,

RIO

Real Intelligence Officer