When a minor is turned into a spiritual brand, the first question in a constitutional democracy is not 'Is he divine?' but 'Whose rights are at stake here?' Our Child and Adolescent Labour Act of 1986, strengthened by the 2016 amendment, and the NCPCR guidelines on child artists already exist because society has a long, ugly history of treating children as resources rather than rights holders. It is naive to imagine that once you add religious language and saffron robes, the risk of exploitation magically disappears. A ten year old cannot give informed consent to long work hours, complex endorsement contracts or the permanent digital record of his sermons, yet everyone speaks of his 'choice' as if he were a voting adult. If his image is monetised, his time scheduled like a touring preacher and his schooling squeezed between shoots, the state has a duty to ask hard questions of parents, managers and platforms. Call it bhakti if you like, but when money flows, power imbalances and caste hierarchies tend to follow, and that is exactly what the law is meant to confront, not bless.