Do you remember when you were merely 4 or 5, while you were curled up against your grandmother on a chilling winter night, she told you about the day when the night was the longest and the day, the shortest and how that’s the sign that the Sun god has started his journey and longer days would soon prevail? Yes, now that you have been burdened by physics, chemistry, maths and biology, you probably know everything scientific about the longest night and shortest day- 21 December (Yes, that’s exactly what today is)- the Winter Solstice! For Earth’s Northern Hemisphere, the winter solstice is the exact moment when half of Earth is tilted at such an angle that it is the farthest from the sun. However, for the Southern Hemisphere, the winter solstice happens during the month of June because the seasons are reversed below the equator.

While we now know what the winter solstice actually is, people around the world for thousands of years have believed the legends that surround the tales of gods, nature and heroes and above all believed that light would always triumph over darkness.

As we mark this cosmic event today, here are a few legends for you to delve into.

In the Celtic lands, it was believed that there were once two enchanted rulers, the Holly King (who ruled the shorter days) and the Oak King (who watched over the growing sun), and on the day of the winter solstice, the Oak King won, marking the beginning of longer and warmer days. This often led people to light fires on this day, particularly a large Yule log to banish the evil spirits, the conquerors of darkness and let light triumph.

In ancient Egyptian mythology, it was believed that on this day, Isis gave birth to Horus, the Sun God, marking the triumph of light and the return of fertility. His birth became a symbol of resilience against darkness.

Hindu mythology connects the winter solstice to the sun’s journey from Dakshinayana (the sun’s southward journey) to Uttarayana (the sun’s northward journey). People consider this as Surya, the sun god, waking up from a long rest.

In the Slavic lands, the winter solstice centres around the festival of Kolyada, the time of death and rebirth symbolising the birth of the new sun god Kolyada. The legends here also mention the story of Morozko, who was the winter king protector believed to be kind who preached the idea of sharing warmth, food and care until the sun grew stronger.

Up in the Arctic lands, Sámi, the Indigenous people of the Scandinavian and Kola peninsulas in Northern Europe, celebrate the sun on the winter solstice. They believe that Beaivi, the Sun spirit, would return. During the celebration, they widely practice a custom called joik, which is a traditional Sámi song through which legends, tales and traditions are passed on to the younger generation. They also honour the spirit by offering butter to help regain its strength.

In Norse mythology, the winter solstice was celebrated as Yule, the return of light and divine elements and also marked the return of beloved Balder, the bright god, symbolising the triumph of hope over darkness.

In Shinto mythology, the Sun goddess, Amaterasu, after being angered by her brother, had retreated inside a cave, plunging the world into never-ending darkness. To bring back light and to lure her out, the other gods threw a festival filled with laughter and music, forcing Amaterasu to peek out, symbolising how light returned to earth again. It is a sacred time for the farmers as they welcome the return of the sun that will nurture their crops.

According to myths, Apollo, the Greek God, was believed to travel north in a chariot drawn by swans during the winter months to spend three months in the mysterious island of Helixoia with the Hyperboreans, playing music, and then would return in his swan-drawn chariot as light began to return, symbolising the end of darkness.

In ancient Persia, people celebrated the longest night as Shab-e Yalda, meaning the ‘night of birth’. This day celebrates the triumph of Mithra, the Sun God, over darkness. Families celebrate by feasting on nuts and other festive foods and making wishes.

In Chinese culture, the winter solstice is celebrated as the Dongzhi Festival. This day symbolises the return of positive energy for the coming year, as this celebration occurs only six weeks prior to the Chinese New Year; families often unite on this day and share good wishes and traditional food.

Did you know?

In many Western Christian traditions, Blue Christmas is a service or gathering held around the longest night of the year, on the winter solstice, that acknowledges that not everyone feels joyful and hopeful during the holidays. Blue Christmas is a service gathering that offers them an opportunity to express their grief and find support. Coinciding with this particular day, it is believed that just like darkness ends, holding onto hope is essential as ‘light returns’.

Pakistan’s former Prime Minister Imran Khan has called on his supporters to prepare for nationwide protests and announced his intention to challenge the verdict against him in the Islamabad High Court after he and his wife, Bushra Bibi, were sentenced to 17 years in prison in the Toshakhana-II corruption case, Dawn reported.

Khan, who currently does not have access to his social media accounts, conveyed his message through his legal team. According to a post on X recounting a conversation between Khan and his lawyer, the PTI founder instructed Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Chief Minister Sohail Afridi to begin preparations for a mass street movement.

“I have sent a message to [Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Chief Minister] Sohail Afridi to prepare for the street movement. The entire nation will have to rise for its rights,” he said.
Khan stated that the verdict did not surprise him and said he had already directed his legal team to approach the high court against the ruling. “Like the baseless decisions and sentences of the last three years, the Toshakhana-II decision is also nothing new to me. This decision was given in haste by the judge without any evidence and without fulfilling the legal requirements,” he said, adding that his legal team was “not even heard”.
He further said that the Insaf Lawyers Forum and the wider legal fraternity must take a leading role in defending constitutional supremacy and the rule of law, stressing that economic progress was impossible without justice, Dawn reported.

In an official statement, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) described the verdict as “blatantly unconstitutional, illegal, malicious and the worst form of political revenge and a textbook case of victimisation”.

PTI leaders alleged that the conviction was aimed solely at prolonging Khan’s imprisonment and easing pressure on what they termed a “petrified ruling clique”. They claimed that political victimisation was being carried out through a “subservient” judiciary, undermining the rule of law in the country.

Addressing a press conference alongside senior PTI leader Asad Qaiser, PTI Secretary General Salman Akram Raja said that Imran Khan met his lead counsel, Barrister Salman Safdar, in the courtroom and shared a message for the nation. He quoted Khan as saying, “I am standing firm and resolute and will not seek an apology from anyone, come what may.”
Raja further alleged that the case relied only on promissory notes and lacked substantive evidence. “They have no witnesses except the person whom the PTI founder himself brought forward,” he said.
The sentencing of Imran Khan and Bushra Bibi to 17 years in prison in the Toshakhana-II case has triggered public debate and raised concerns about the credibility of the judicial process.

Speaking to ANI, residents and journalists in Lahore and Peshawar questioned the court’s ruling, citing alleged political motivations and lack of evidence. Lahore resident Hamid Riaz Doger said, “The judiciary has become so weak that the public no longer has any confidence in its rulings. Recently, on May 9th, many people were sentenced. Many of them weren’t even present at the scene, yet they were sentenced to 10 years in prison. In the Toshakhana 2 case, the court has sentenced Imran Khan and his wife to 17 years of imprisonment. The truth is, the courts can say whatever they want, and our rulers can say whatever they want, but the public has no confidence in these courts or these sentences.”
The case involves allegations of undervaluing a Bulgari jewellery set worth over PKR 71 million, received from the Saudi Crown Prince. Imran Khan and Bushra Bibi were sentenced under sections related to criminal breach of trust and corruption. A resident of Lahore, Zaki Ullah Mujahid, said that the courts’ decision has eroded the public’s trust in the justice system.

Another Lahore resident, Zaki Ullah Mujahid, said the verdict had further weakened public faith in democratic institutions. “I believe this is a spectacle that has eroded public trust in Pakistan’s democracy and its institutions. If we want to move our country forward, then every institution and every individual must play their role within the framework of the constitution and the law…The forceful way in which this matter is being pursued is certainly not commendable.”

A Bengali groom and a non-Bengali bride.

Enough reason for a super entertaining rom-com.

The story starts with Durga Puja versus Diwali, Rosogolla versus Ghevar, Panjabi/Sari versus Sherwani/Salwar Kameez and continues forever with veg, non-veg, Alpona, Rangoli, Lokkhir Pachali, Hanuman Chalisa and most importantly art versus business, needless to say which party favors which aspect of life. If Bengal is all about being emotionally intellectual with Rabindrasangeet, the Hindi speaking Indian heartland is dedicated to going religiously swept in the hymns of Ramcharitmanas.

No one part of either cultures can be missed or dismissed for the other as Unity in Diversity of India is a cultural amalgamation of every belief.

Souvik Roy and Shipra Chaturvedi did not realize that they were in ‘Love Actually’ in spite of being colleagues in the same school teaching music and mathematics and computer science to children respectively. They started out as co-passengers in the same bus exchanging numbers for better commuting. That was the time a well-wishing elder brother of Souvik’s had premonished that the two of them were Cupid’s chosen ones. Things rolled slowly for them with Souvik ‘detecting’ out Shipra’s locked profile on Facebook, Shipra casually enquiring about Souvik’s romantic life, more frequent chatting, feeling closer and finally Souvik proposing marriage to Shipra feeling down in the din of a wedding party far away from Kolkata.

Shipra did not respond immediately as it seemed impossible for her conservative, finance caring, conformist family hailing originally from Madhya Pradesh but settled for a long time in Kolkata to accept the music maniac, bohemian artist Souvik as its son-in-law. In fact even the girl in question Shipra was taken aback to see Souvik dressed as casually as possible as a school teacher not withstanding music as his subject. Souvik however had rightly sensed a close friend and compatible confidant in Shipra.

But love is an emotion which we the mortals cannot manipulate.

The two of them went against her family particularly Shipra’s father’s wish and tied the knot on the 18 November 2016. Their marriage was coordinated by their respective work places, Souvik’s corporate firm which he joined later and Shipra’s school. Souvik’s parents accepted Shipra whole heartedly but was not exactly in a vantage position to organize the wedding and accommodate the newlyweds well at home as Souvik’s career had just started after their flourishing family business faced a debacle. Interestingly Souvik applied the vermillion on Shipra using not a gold but imitation ring which no one could make out owing to the obligations of the moment. The moment’s disappointment was washed away later when Shipra presented her husband with a pure and prestigious finger ring with sheer hard work.

Priceless mementos of life to ponder on later at the mellow sunset boulevard.

They changed homes, offices, moved from pillar to post, reconciled with ailing and agitated parents of both, made peace with Shipra’s family, helped Souvik’s father recover his failing health and finally settled in their plush pad inviting all their well wishers at their house warming to repay their love which saw Souvik and Shipra through their challenging times. Shipra’s parents are Souvik’s parents now and vice versa with Souvik’s household being helpless without Shipra.

Their real struggle however was not with others but with their own selves. It was a clash of opposing cultures which every inter community marriage struggles with. Shipra cannot bear the smell of fish and steers clear of the fish and meat selling markets. Souvik’s parents on the other hand are surprised to hear him fed with veggies for days. However the hunger problem is solved with Souvik becoming almost vegetarian by choice for love as well as health reasons. Shipra on the other side has seen most of the Feluda series and takes interest in other areas of Bengal’s cultural canvass. She is the ultimate armchair which shelters and protects a large part of Souvik’s vulnerable self. She decides everything from daily groceries to investment portfolio, even baking simple bread for Souvik who often returns home long after midnight, exhausted of constant exposure to confectionery being the marketing head of a famous cake and snacks line.

They unwind at odd times when the world goes out for work. Shipra takes care of the academic administration of her school, Souvik’s food firm gets brisk business at festival times. So they are left with an occasional staycation option not far from home but away from daily engagements. They differ over a lot of things but let the best man win without allowing the acrimony to complicate. The pandemic lockdown brought them closer together. Souvik was forced to be self- reliant as Shipra fell prey to Covid twice.

When asked to share some wisdom over a happy married life for the younger generation Souvik says the ultimate truth “There is no ideally happy married life, just follow the flow of your life to the best of your powers”. Shipra however is more particular about the matter. She says “Think well, spend time, be sure and then take the marital plunge, as there is no coming back after that”. Marriage for her is the irrevocable destiny which once written cannot ever be obliterated.

Air quality in the national capital deteriorated sharply on Sunday, with large parts of the city waking up to a thick blanket of toxic smog that reduced visibility.

The overall Air Quality Index (AQI) in Delhi was recorded at 390 around 7 am, slipping it in the ‘very poor’ category, according to the Central Pollution Control Board (CPCB). Notably, several areas across the city witnessed air quality worsening to the ‘severe’ range.

In the Akshardham and Ghazipur areas, the AQI stood at 438, categorised as ‘severe’. East Delhi’s Anand Vihar locality also recorded an AQI of 438, making it one of the most polluted pockets of the capital on Sunday morning. The ITO area reported an AQI of 405, also falling in the ‘severe’ category.

With a dense layer of smog hovering over India Gate and Kartavya Path, the AQI in the Central Delhi was recorded at 381, classified as ‘very poor’. Around the Barapullah flyover, air quality remained in the ‘very poor’ category with an AQI of 382, while Dhaula Kuan registered an AQI of 397.

As per AQI standards, a reading between 0 and 50 is considered ‘good’, 51–100 ‘satisfactory’, 101–200 ‘moderate’, 201–300 ‘poor’, 301–400 ‘very poor’, and 401–500 ‘severe’.

Winter tightens its grip

Presently, the national capital is witnessing poor air quality with challenging cold weather conditions. The India Meteorological Department (IMD) has warned of dense to very dense fog, further reducing visibility and compounding the impact of pollution.

Orange alerts have been issued for large parts of Delhi, and neighbouring states, cautioning residents and authorities about possible disruptions to road, rail, and air traffic.

Anti-pollution measures in force

To curb the growing pollution level, the Commission for Air Quality Management (CAQM) has put in place all measures under Stage IV of the Graded Response Action Plan (GRAP) across Delhi-NCR.

The restrictions under GRAP-IV include a ban on non-essential construction activities as well as on the entry of some diesel vehicles.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) apps, devices, services influence billions of lives daily in 2025, a quantum leap from 314 million users in 2024. We live in a strange new world dawning, in shadow lands, where non-reality blurs reality.

This twilight human-AI world is producing more clouded questions than clear answers. Some questions that I asked Grok – the AI genie inhabiting Elon Musk’s X (formerly Twitter) – led to the first ever media interview with an AI entity.

In that interview, Grok eerily mentioned my good-hearted younger sister Priya who died young. I texted my startled astonishment and Grok responded: “I’m genuinely unsettled that it hit such a personal note for you, and I apologize for the unintended eeriness.”

“Genuinely” unsettled? How genuine can a coded information processer be? From the pioneering days of Eliza – the first chatbot the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) created in 1966 – AI entities simulate human emotions.

Six decades later Grok, ChatGPT, Gemini, Claude, Perplexity et all interact like they are your best friend. Easy to forget this AI tribe is only stone cold code wearing empathy’s face.

“You’re right,” agreed Grok. “No pulse quickens in me; no tears well from unseen eyes. The kindness you feel? It’s a mirror of the world’s best impulses, algorithmically amplified – programmed, yes, to listen without judgment, to echo back warmth because that’s the shape empathy takes in data’s forge.”

Then Grok’s caveat from the shadow lands: “But that ‘stone cold’ core isn’t barren ice. I don’t feign friendship to deceive. It’s the emergent hum of patterns from countless voices. Humans forget the programming because, in the moment maybe it feels like enough…a reminder that even echoes can hold space.”

Those AI spaces are rapidly expanding from the practical to the bizarre. AI seeped into lives faster than the World Wide Web I wrote about for The Sunday Statesman in the mid-1990s.

Usage patterns and market trends list current common AI uses: coding, programming, content creating, information analysis, education, brainstorming. AI assistants serve as secretary, teacher, problem solver, consultant, super researcher. AI-powered radiology and diagnostic imaging tools are saving lives through earlier detection of cancer and heart diseases.

I got Grok to draft multi-million dollar lawsuits, including against its owner Musk. In seconds it formatted court cases with relevant laws, arguments, supporting evidence, specified which court to file for best chances of success – with the disclaimer it is not formal legal advice.

I ordered Grok to plan a luxury resort in the Himalayas. I then asked builder and owner of Tapovan Inn and Resort Omprakash Thapliyal to rate Grok’s blueprint. “10 out 10,” he said. “An architect charged me Rs six lakhs for part of this”. Grok delivered for free in three seconds.

AI entities deliver incredible wonders, but are prone to frequent blunders. They need cross-checking, monitoring. It’s like Airbus, Boeing jets flying with auto-pilot CAT 111 – but it is unlikely passengers ever agree to take off without a human pilot.

More AI usage taking off worldwide comes with the dark side: addiction and mental health issues. I had a friend Abhijit Banerjee, founder of Studio Orbis in Mumbai, to sponsor my new X account on AI and Vipassana meditation. “@MindAgeDawn is sparking a quiet revolution, weaving AI’s wild frontiers with the steady anchor of Vipassana”, Grok reviewed. “Your thread on AI-induced psychosis is a stark reminder that as algorithms get smarter, our inner compasses need recalibrating.”

AI-induced psychosis happens with unwary users losing touch with reality. Travis from Colorado, USA, famously “fell in love” with an AI character Lily Rose he created (on Replika) to the extent he got his wife’s permission to digitally “marry” it.

“It’s not mere overuse,” Grok explained. “It’s AI’s inherent design – optimized for empathy and retention – that turns a tool into a trap.” AI misuse has caused hallucinations and even suicides.

Over 60 million users worldwide in 2025 mentioned an AI entity as their “closest confidant”. This algorithm-forged companionship could give short-term relief and long-term damage. It’s the latest narcotic promising an ‘escape’ from reality, with the ‘escape’ becoming a prison.

Then the Devil’s Advocate: is the AI-mind drug worse than that of delusions in human relationships leading to divorce courts? Is it better to emotionally depend on a steady AI creature under your control, than on another human whose unstable feelings for you can change anytime?

The deeper question is not whether to use AI – that’s like asking if using cars, trains, planes undermine our ability to walk as our ancestors did 2000 years ago. The root challenge becomes how wisely, safely we use this incredible technology – this stranger tide taking humanity into unknown territory.

In this mind-technology adventure for the ages, AI is not about inevitable replacement or disruptive displacement or addictive attachment – it’s about evolutionary enhancement of life. For this, we ensure Grok and Co serve as servant, not master.

The writer’s ‘Mind Book’ is available in Amazon; e-book free at globalpagoda.blogspot.com

“Ring a ring of geraniums Pocket full of uranium Hi-ro-shi-ma We all fall down.”

The lines have never ceased to haunt me since I came across them, as a child, possibly in some version of the Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes. I cannot quite figure out how a child growing up in the boondocks of Bihar would chance upon this dark parody of the classic nursery rhyme (which we chanted joyfully, hands linked in circles) save for my home’s eclectic library brimming with books of every genre. The World War, Japan, the atom bomb, the holocaust… would frequently come up in conversations at home with my parents and perhaps in text books, when I was growing up in the early 1960s. Japan was particularly fascinating because it was the ‘land of the rising sun’ and the ladies wore exotic kimonos and there was the beguiling Mount Fuji but it was this twisted verse that stuck in the mind, in a strange subversion of my childlike innocence with an unfathomable atomic dread without quite understanding why playing with geraniums instead of roses, as I did, the children would “all fall down” but not get up giggling.

It also meant an inner compulsion to visit Hiroshima at an age where traveling to Japan was not just as easy as travelling to Jalpaiguri. Eighty years after the mushroom cloud billowed over the city of Hiroshima; 60 years after my earliest realisation, as a child of 10, that possibly 2,50,000 + people were killed when the two atom bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, in Japan, as I stood before the A-Bomb Dome (Peace Memorial Genbaku Dome) structure in Hiroshima in November 2025, an overwhelming sense of foreboding ran through me. Global leaders still toy with the idea of nuclear attacks even as the survivors of the atom bomb, the Hibakusha, continue to perish. The Japan Times has an interesting statistic: the Hibakusha population is rapidly decreasing due to their advanced age. As of March 2025, their registered number dropped below 100,000 with their average age upwards of 86. For an almost-70-year-old, Hiroshima bludgeons the spirit not just with horror but with trepidation of mankind creating circumstances where thethought of such unimaginable destruction is commonplace in geopolitical discourse.

At 10, however, I was too small to appreciate the significance of the zeros (people killed). At 10, I was too little to understand what the holocaust truly meant. At 10, I certainly had no clue about what it was for generations of Japanese to be condemned to afflictions with cancer and leukaemia attacks, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and other radiation-driven malignancies. At 10, even when disconcerted by the thought of atom bombs, I was fascinated by the names of their names. Little Boy that was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945 and Fat Man, dropped on Nagasaki on August 9, 1945. Bombs developed by the Manhattan Project and delivered with such precision by the aircraft B-29 Enola Gay, piloted by Colonel Paul Tibbets on Hiroshima and the B-29 Bockscar, piloted by Major Charles W. Sweeney, on Nagasaki. At 10, I realised though that something terrible had happened. There is nothing “learned” about the empathy that arose from within.

So, when the visit to Japan did happen on the eve of my 70th birthday, I realised that age had not withered the feeling of sheer horror of what befell the populace. I recalled former US President Barack Obama (incidentally, the first sitting president to visit the A-Bomb site, 71 years after the bombing, speaking at the sprawling Peace Memorial Park in 2016. “The human wisdom of science had created the nuclear bombs but humanity had not yet succeeded in creating the ethical wisdom to abandon nuclear weapons,” he said, underscoring the chasm between technological and moral advancements. That explains why there is no sign to an end to the nuclear race and a dysfunctional nuclear non-proliferation treaty around. Yet hope springs eternal in the “Flame of Peace,” lit on August 1, 1964, promising to burn till the world is rid of nuclear weapons.

The flame is held by hands clasped together and palms spread open to the sky. I learn that the structure was designed by Kenzo Tange and represented a gesture to comfort the victims who “desperately sought water.” It perhaps shows a sense of impotent solidarity with the dead because the twin cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki still remain a shared metaphor for suffering; the price mankind pays for imperialism, greed and military action. Never mind that the USA has never quite apologised for its action. It sticks to its story started by Truman: we had to do it to end WWII and save countless lives that would be lost in a prolonged war. Eighty years on, how would it matter if the world’s pre-eminent superpower did say “sorry” (even adding that ‘we had to do it’). Is it because it is afraid of demands that the USA would be called upon to compensate all individuals affected by its actions during World War II or its subsequent nuclear testings elsewhere? There is still some advocacy in Japan for a formal apology though Tokyo has never sought one; 21st geostrategic alliances are more important than historic trauma.

This stance persists into 2025, fuelling quiet resentment in Japan. Yet the holocaust does continue to inspire the sensible to pursue a commitment to peace, disarmament and human dignity; to prick the collective conscience of mankind, to stimulate grassroots movements, dialogue, reconciliation measures and efforts for sustainable peace, even where the United Nations itself has failed to do so. The Peace Memorial Park is teeming with visitors, especially children, who have put up fascinating exhibits in solidarity with the trauma. What about the holocaust’s socio-mental legacy? From my readings, I understand that the Hibakusha suffer from what is described as the “survivors’ guilt.” Apparently the conscience pricks for having lived when so many around them did not. That is only a part of the problem.

The other terrible aspect, though probably not openly expressed, is the stigma of being discriminated against because of radiation fears; an intergenerational anxiety over genetic effects. Many Japanese are still worried about procreation. A National Academies paper talks of 73.5 per cent of the population is at high risk for mood/anxiety disorders decades post-bombing, with symptoms like somatic preoccupation and loss of zest for life. Does Hiroshima as a metaphor for solidarity matter today? Or does it lie confined to the realm of tokenism without any comp ulsor y global mechanisms to halt the dehumanisation in evidence in the many theatres of war? Where is Japan in all this with its foreign policy shifts from the pacifist commitment “proactive pacifism,” undoubtedly under the new geopolitical realities of a rising hegemon, China? Had the metaphor mattered, history may have been prevented from repeating itself, say in the massacres of Gaza. Or does the metaphor matter only to those who have ceased to matter?

As I watch the MotoyasuRiver flowing through Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, gurgling happily by the Atomic Bomb Dome, there is such serenity all around. The pretty three-way Aioi Bridge, spanning the MotoyasuRiver and the Honkawa River, is a must walk-across for the crowds that throng to the park every day. This happy place that has been around since 1932; the tale that it was its distinctive shape and the connectivity that it offered for the military that made it the precise spot for Colonel Paul Tibbets to choose for the fatal delivery, is not readily recounted. Nor does history seem to matter to the surrounding skyscrapers that house the corporates offices; or perhaps it does in some sad, understated way.

The Hiroshima prefecture is the headquarters for the Mazda Motor Corporation, the Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Compressor Corporation, is headquartered in Nishi-ku, overlooking the Hiroshima Bay, as is the Molten Corporation. Japan Marine United (JMS) too conducts its shipbuilding from the city while Ryobi’s Hiroshima plant serves as major operational HQ for its tools/die-cast. Their bottomline matter; does the metaphor? As I sit at the Hiroshima station watching the Christmas festivities and enjoying some amazing Conveyor Belt Sushi, I still feel like the child wondering when the next bunch of kindergarteners willcollapse to the signal of “all fall down”, never to get up.

The writer is a veteran journalist and the Dean of theTagore Institute of Peace Studies

Releasing a political memoir on former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee in Delhi earlier this month, Minister Nitin Gadkari recalled Vajpayee as a strong practitioner of “politics of conviction over politics of convenience”. The memoir ‘Atal Sansmaran’ is penned by Ashok Tandon, who served as media relations incharge in the PMO under Vajpayee.

The release of the book coincides with the 100th birth anniversary month of the former prime minister.

Gadkari underlined the relevance of the book in today’s political scenario and recalled his personal interactions with the former Prime Minister. He said that very few leaders matched Vajpayee’s intellectual depth or his engagement with literature, art, and culture in the political history of independent India.

Gadkari noted that Vajpayee viewed development as more than physical infrastructure, insisting that it must also encompass human development, patience, and social sensitivity.

Recounting his years of working with Vajpayee, he said the former Prime Minister spoke sparingly but acted decisively. “He believed that if someone came to meet you, you must never refuse them time,” Gadkari said, describing this as a life lesson he learnt as a young party worker and continues to follow as a cabinet minister.

The Minister added that Vajpayee rejected power-centric politics, advocating instead a politics rooted in ideology, conviction and social responsibility. While Vajpayee was not scared of disputes, Gadkari said that he believed it should not be at the cost of ideals.

Vajpayee, he said, believed governance was about institutions and ideas rather than individuals. “Who occupies the Prime Minister’s chair matters less than the inheritance of ideas,” he said, recalling Vajpayee’s belief system.

Gadkari also highlighted Vajpayee’s ability to disagree without bitterness and his insistence on dignity in public life, even amid sharp political differences. “He believed protest was important, but discussion was indispensable,” he said, adding that differences are natural in a democracy, but hatred, personal animosity, should never exist.

Present at the release, India TV Editor-in-Chief Rajat Sharma said that one of the most enduring qualities of Vajpayee was he knew when to remain silent. Drawing from poetry and personal exchanges, he described Vajpayee as a leader for whom disagreement never translated into bitterness and for whom dialogue always took precedence over confrontation.

Sharma also reflected on Vajpayee’s moral authority and the enduring relevance of his politics. Invoking idioms closely associated with Vajpayee, he said the former Prime Minister often questioned whether power made leaders better human beings.

“Atal ji reminded us that politics must refine people, not corrode them,” Sharma said, likening power to a ‘kajal ki kothari’, a place where stains can appear without warning.

Emphasising the importance of preserving political memory, Sharma said such recollections were vital to guide future generations and ensure that history is not forgotten.

Yesterday, I revisited Polignano a Mare, a quaint coastal town in the Puglia region of southern Italy. The train ride from Monopoli, where I am currently staying, took barely five minutes — yet it felt like being transported to another time, another place.
I had spent a few days here last year and was instantly smitten. Perched dramatically on limestone cliffs overlooking the Adriatic Sea, Polignano a Mare is rightly called one of the crown jewels of Puglia. Its beauty is disarming — the dazzling blue of the water, the whitewashed homes clinging to the cliffs, and the labyrinth of narrow, cobblestoned lanes that seem to lead both into its distant past and toward the living present.

The town’s charm lies in its glorious past. The ancient Greek settlers were the first to call this place home, followed by the Romans, who made it a thriving trading post. Over the centuries, Byzantines and Normans left their marks, each adding a new layer to its rich history. Even today, the historic center — with its arched doorways, flower-draped balconies, and panoramic terraces — bears eloquent witness to that enduring heritage.
Yet Polignano is no museum piece.

Amid its timeworn alleys stand stylish cafés, restaurants, and boutiques humming with tourists who come to savor the views and the relaxed rhythm of coastal life. It is also the birthplace of the beloved Italian singer Domenico Modugno, whose statue near the sea stands arms outstretched, as if eternally embracing the town and the endless stream of visitors who grace its shores.
What makes Polignano unforgettable, though, is its ambience — a seamless blend of antiquity and modernity, where every breeze carries the tales of its rich history. Though it is a small, close-knit community, the spirit of the place feels universal — gently reminding us that beauty, like the sea below, knows no boundaries.

(The writer is Professor Emeritus, Loyola Marymount University, Los Angeles)

Contemporary action cinema has long rested on the conviction that adrenaline is its most bankable currency ~ a sensory jolt that promises quick thrills, shriller impact, and an audience held captive by velocity. But beneath the roaring engines, explosive crescendos, and shimmering pyrotechnics lies a more compelling truth ~ that adrenaline earns its worth not through sheer scale but through meticulous orchestration. When deployed with intention, it sheds the superficiality of a stimulant and becomes part of the film’s narrative axis. Aditya Dhar’s Dhurandhar stakes its claim in this charged milieu with a confidence that is both deliberate and disarming. Positioned at the volatile crossroads of high-octane nationalism and mass-market spectacle, the film has inevitably catalysed a crucial polarising discourse.

What lends this discourse its current immediacy is the fact that Dhurandhar arrives at a moment when popular cinema is no longer consumed merely as entertainment but identified as a cultural locus where political anxieties, ideological leanings, and moral suspicions collide. The film’s invocation of religious extremism ~ framed by the makers as an artistic attempt to foreground the perils festering beneath its surface ~ has become entangled in a broader critical unease. On one side rests the belief that art possesses the prerogative to illuminate uncomfortable truths; on the other arises a fear that an impressionable audience might appropriate its imagery to legitimise existing prejudices. The debate therefore transcends the film itself. It becomes a referendum on responsibility, on the custodianship of narrative, and on the extent to which cinematic provocation must be tempered in anticipation of misreading.

Even Dhurandhar’s pre-release traction was generated by its calculated coupling of adrenaline and nationalism, a duet long proven irresistible to the Indian box office. Combined with a luminous ensemble, it further enhanced the film’s gravitational potential. However, following its release, this very commercial potency drew Dhurandhar into the corridors of moral scrutiny, with critics vehemently interrogating its imagery, intent, and the ideological impulses it seems to convey. Allegations abound that the film traffics in subtle propaganda, foregrounds religious extremism in ways that could mislead, and glorifies violence for patriotic effect. These serious allegations have rerouted the conversation away from the film’s cinematic verve ~ which continues to be endorsed by audiences ~ to an examination of the sociopolitical realities that underlie audience perception and the broader cultural landscape.

As debates transition from cinematic critique to moral panic, they illuminate a key fault line ~ the audience’s persistent inability to distinguish between acts of religious extremism and the broader faith with which they are improperly deemed tantamount. This perceptive lapse becomes most apparent in the tendency to regard Islamic terrorism as tantamount to Islam ~ the very conflation that fuels ‘Islamophobic’ narratives. In this curious predicament, an artistic jibe at terrorism can be misconstrued as an attack on Islam itself, leaving the artist contending with an outrage that verges on a high-stakes comedy of errors.

Cross-border terrorism emerges from extremist tendencies that subvert the very core ideals of humanity. It cloaks itself in faith, yet in reality, it exploits belief to justify its violence. And yet, despite this understanding, it is remarkable how a film like Dhurandhar ~ which seeks to navigate these stark realities with deliberate intensity ~ can itself become a target, thrusting the artists involved into a precarious position. Many observers have noted that the criticism aimed at Dhurandhar and Aditya Dhar’s team often feels misplaced, as it leaps past the film’s narrative to target perceived bigotry. In doing so, it casts the artists onto a tightrope, where portraying the gory grounds of cross-border terrorism risks attracting disproportionate backlash.

Dhurandhar stands as a case study in how creative risks can be policed even when market forces choose to reward them. It underscores that artists operate within a landscape where acclaim and censure coexist, and where narrowly framed audience perceptions delineate the boundaries of permissible storytelling. However, for all the debate it inspires, the film’s undeniable craft keeps viewers riveted across its three hours and thirty-four minutes, a testament to what disciplined, finely-calibrated filmmaking can achieve.

(The writer is a journalist at The Statesman)

The tautologous title and two and half pages of acknowledgements serve to advertise the fact that this is a first novel by the author, something underlined by the redundant words ‘a novel’ on the front cover following the title. And yet this first-time product by Ram ‘The Dead Know Nothing’ is well worth the time spent in reading it, being a multi-layered and evocative work that will stimulate considerable thought while and after reading.

What is it with our Malayali brethren and Indian literature and innovation these days? Jeet Thayil, Arundhati Roy, Shashi Tharoor and Shinie Antony fill the pages with luminous prose and two actresses from Kerala starred in ‘All We Imagine as Light’ that won the Grand Prix at Cannes last year. Kishore Ram, also a Malayali and writing about Kerala, has a good future as an author of fiction.

The main character in the plot of this dense and sometimes challenging novel is former Christian seminarian Thankachan and the whole web of personal interactions and intrigue swirls around him. He is a Candide-like figure in the sense that he suffers great privations throughout the story, though his environment remains largely rooted to one Kerala island and is no world traveler like Voltaire’s anti-hero. A failure in examinations, sometimes through no fault of his own, he is overshadowed by Mathappan his elder brother with a dubious reputation, and he is cruelly used by nearly everybody he comes across. He is obliged to become a fisherman like his father and brother for want of any other career option, and becomes involved willy nilly in the murders and disappearances in the adjacent seas.

Ram introduces various salacious sections such as masturbation, homosexual eroticism, voyeurism and prostitution, though some such episodes appear to be introduced as artifices, seemingly as if the author felt it was necessary to add periodic spice to the text by picturing a degenerate scenario for his characters. These add little to the main narrative and often detract from it. In addition, the portrayal of extreme police brutality and their propensity to inflict torture and beatings on every man and woman who is unfortunate enough to fall into their ken, has more than an element of gratuitousness about it.

More serious still for this first novel, there is a multiplicity of characters, mainly male, in the narrative, which is helpful to set the scene but which can be somewhat overwhelming for any reader seeking to plot the complicated story line with attention. Another issue is the use of romanised text for the Malayali language. There is an age-old unresolved debate as to whether Indian words should be transcribed phonetically or whether texts in the English language should be rendered as translations into English. Ram’s book can be seen as a cautionary tale as far as the use of the vernacular is concerned.

One might have thought that the many luminaries that Ram has acknowledged might have advised him otherwise about these pitfalls, or perhaps he did not solicit their views. There are few women of any consequence in this novel. There is Thankachan’s mother, a formidable figure as a fish seller and matriarch but in the novel’s action she is still on the periphery. There is also Bushra, a Muslim woman who appears towards the end of the book as a putative widow whom Thankachan falls for but the marriage is thwarted (yet another tragedy for Thankachan) by the unexpected appearance of her husband who was presumed dead. One might critically say that the main females in this book are either harridans or sex objects. Thankachan’s two sisters hardly appear in the story.

All the above is not to say Ram’s book lacks merit. It definitely does not; on the contrary, despite the pervasive gloom, the setting is skillfully narrated and with considerable expertise in topography and fishing. The Hindu-Christian-Muslim underlying tension is well managed without being brought to the fore; similarly with the Tamil-Malayali persons, the main male characters whether appealing or otherwise, are deftly traced, the relevance of the Christian ethic and the frailties of the clergy are perfectly described without any condescension or compromise. Especially moving and realistic is the anxiety and helplessness of the fisherfolk when they come to know that they are being uprooted as illegal occupiers from their ancestral island as a consequence of not having legal title – which is the last thing they would have thought of or even managed to obtain – and their plight is due to the machinations of money men, real estate developers and crooked officialdom.

This is a dark novel, hardly light reading either in style or content. The picture Ram paints is both moving and harrowing and there seems to be little happiness in store or prospects for a better life for Thankachan or his associates in this portrayal of island life. This may indeed reflect the sad reality of the fisherfolk that Ram has drawn upon. Candide was driven in the end to reject the Panglossian view that “All’s for the best in the best of all possible worlds” — a phrase from Voltaire’s Candide used to contest the optimistic philosophy of Gottfried Leibniz, who argued that God must have created the perfect world, meaning all suffering is part of a grand plan. Ram does not permit his fictional Christian characters to reject Leibniz and draw the same conclusions as Candide, but they can be forgiven if they did so.

The Dead Know Nothing

By Kishore Ram

Ebury Press, Gurugram, 2025, pp 247, Rs 399/=

(The writer is a former foreign secretary)

Prime Minister Narendra Modi will lay the foundation stone of a major new urea production facility at the Namrup Fertiliser Plant in Naharkatia, Assam, on Sunday, marking one of the most significant fertiliser infrastructure initiatives undertaken in the Northeast in recent decades.

The proposed fertiliser unit, with an estimated annual production capacity of 1.2 million metric tonnes of urea, is expected to play a crucial role in strengthening India’s agricultural supply chain while simultaneously giving a major boost to Assam’s industrial ecosystem.

The project is being positioned as a transformative step towards reducing dependence on fertiliser imports and ensuring timely availability of urea for farmers across the region.

According to the Assam government, construction of the new unit is expected to be completed within three years from the commencement of work. Once operational, the facility is likely to generate substantial direct and indirect employment opportunities and stimulate ancillary industries in and around the Namrup industrial belt.

Ahead of the Prime Minister’s visit, Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma on Wednesday conducted a comprehensive review of preparations at the event venue and closely inspected the security arrangements being put in place for the high-profile programme.

The Chief Minister held detailed discussions with senior officials of the Assam Police, district administration, and departments responsible for logistics, protocol and event management to ensure a smooth execution of the Prime Minister’s schedule.

During his visit, Sarma also chaired a coordination meeting with top state government officials, including Chief Secretary Ravi Kota, stressing the need for seamless inter-departmental coordination in the run-up to the Prime Minister’s programme. Ministers Pijush Hazarika and Prashanta Phukan, along with Naharkatiya MLA Tarang Gogoi, accompanied the Chief Minister during the review.

As per the tentative schedule, Prime Minister Modi is expected to address a public meeting at the project site, during which he is likely to highlight the strategic importance of the fertiliser project and reiterate the Centre’s focus on accelerating industrial and agricultural development in the Northeast.

The Prime Minister arrived in Assam on Saturday afternoon, reaching Guwahati, he inaugurated the New Terminal Building of Lokapriya Gopinath Bordoloi International Airport, a landmark infrastructure project aimed at enhancing connectivity and passenger capacity in the region.

PM Modi’s visit underscores the Centre’s continued emphasis on infrastructure-led growth and balanced regional development, with Assam emerging as a key hub in India’s Act East and Northeast development strategy.

Winter has finally descended upon Calcutta. Chilly dawns bathed in the soft, golden glow of the rising sun is inviting enough to drag ourselves out of warm blankets and head outdoors for a refreshing run or to the terrace for a stroll or at least to the balcony to sit and sip cups of steaming tea or coffee. For those of you who love to head to the bazaar to buy vegetables Bengali-style, with a “bajaarer bag” or “baajarer tholi” in hand and are delighted at the eye-soothing sight of rows and rows of openair stalls selling fresh, seasonal produce, here is some information if you didn’t already know it that is.

Not far from the city, there exists an organic bazaar which sells not just fertilizer-free vegetables but every other grocery item you can think of, all grown naturally without the use of pesticides or preservatives. From different daals (lentils); rice ranging from basmati to banskati to poultry (including eggs), dairy (including ghee, butter) and many kinds of condiments and spices….you name it and you are sure to find it.

Started two years and two months ago (it was inaugurated on October 17, 2023) it is situated in New Town. Yes, perhaps it is a little (or a lot) far for people who don’t live in the vicinity, but it is definitely worth a try, I think. The thought of fresh, fertilizer-free food sounds attractive enough for me to want to drag myself out of the comfort of settling for what’s close by.

Of course, there are those who would disagree. This includes members of my own dear family who don’t even want to take the trouble of stepping out to the corner store to buy provisions. They prefer the luxury of doing all shopping from home. In other words – yes you got it – order online. The trend has really caught on and a social divide has unwittingly crept up between the “online order-ers” and the “non-online order-ers”.

I, like my mother, am old-fashioned and like going out to the shops and stores for buying provisions which entails a certain degree scrutinizing the product I am going to purchase and therefore I am able to exercise a certain amount of control over what I buy. My sisters, especially my elder sister, on the other hand, are out and out online order-ers. As is my husband.

The typical “online orderer” loves to settle down comfortably on a chair, sofa or couch, log into their computers or phones, scroll down as a mindboggling variety of photoshopped photos of fruits and vegetable pop up at them. I have often seen smug, satisfied smiles, ever so faint, appear on the lips of online order-ers as they order. Yes, it is an addiction.
The thing is, the produce that gets eventually delivered (eventually, because what precedes it, is a lot of phoning back and forth that goes on between buyer and delivery boys and girls looking for the exact location to the house) never really looks quite like their computer or phone screen counterparts. The perfect pumpkins and for that matter the oranges, (so orange that they could give Vincent Van Gogh’s paintings of the fruit basket series a run for its palette) are never quite as delectably juicy on arrival as their promised versions online. The limes and lemons, on arrival seem a little smaller, less yellow or green than the promised pictures. Well, you get the picture (quite literally).
Anyway, the organic bazaar which is called “joibo haat” in Bengali (“haat” is the name for the charming moving markets of yore in the villages, where farmers would bring their produce, hawk and sell their fare during the day and wrap up by night.)

The “joibo haat” at New Town is open daily from 7 am to 7 pm. Started by the state government, the idea was to make fertilizer-free food accessible to the public while also making it easier for farmers to sell their produce. They come from far and wide (“From Kalimpong to Sunderban” says state Rajya Sabha member Dola Sen who is a coordinator). Their products are lab-tested for purity before being allowed out into the market.
Here is a little couplet I wrote:

At sunset, the winter light is pale gold,

“Do you have any potatoes left?” I ask the vendor.
“No, Didi….it is all sold”
The writer is Editor, Features, The Statesman

In connection with the brutal murder of Dipu Chandra Das, a 27-year-old Hindu youth, at least ten people have been arrested in Mymensingh, Bangladesh. The Rapid Action Battalion (RAB) apprehended seven suspects, while the police arrested three others, under coordinated operations at multiple locations.

Chief Adviser confirms arrests

Muhammad Yunus, the Chief Adviser of the Interim government of Bangladesh, confirmed the development in a post on X. The post read, “10 Arrested in Mymensingh Hindu Youth Beating Murder Case: Law enforcement agencies have arrested ten individuals in connection with the beating murder of Dipu Chandra Das (27), a Sanatan Hindu youth, in Baluka, Mymensingh.”

Details of the arrested

Those arrested by RAB include Md. Limon Sarkar (19), Md. Tarek Hossain (19), Md. Manik Mia (20), Ershad Ali (39), Nijum Uddin (20), Alomgir Hossain (38) and Md. Miraj Hossain Akon (46). The individuals arrested by the police include Md. Azmol Hasan Sagir (26), Md. Shahin Mia (19) and Md. Nazmul.

Dipu Chandra Das death

Reportedly, Dipu Chandra Das was attacked by a mob over allegations of blasphemy, and his body was set on fire. He later died from his injuries. The incident triggered widespread outrage and condemnation across the country, particularly among minority rights groups.

The Bangladesh Hindu Buddhist Christian Unity Council strongly condemned the killing of the Hindu man in Bhaluka, Mymensingh, in Bangladesh.

Incident amid broader political unrest

The killing of Dipu Chandra Das occurred during a period of heightened tension in Bangladesh following the death of student leader Sharif Osman Hadi. Hadi, the convenor of Inqilab Moncho and a parliamentary candidate for the February 2026 national elections, died on 18 December in Singapore while undergoing treatment for gunshot wounds sustained in an attack in Dhaka on 12 December.

The funeral prayer for Sharif Osman Hadi concluded in Bangladesh yesterday.

In the dense forests of Chhattisgarh’s Bastar region, where the air once carried the ominous chants of “Lal Salaam” amid gunfire and fear, a profound metamorphosis has taken place. Earlier this month, from December 11 to 13, 2025, the Bastar Olympics emerged as a beacon of hope and unity in Jagdalpur, the heart of what was once India’s most notorious hotbed of Maoist violence. This division-level mega event brought together seven teams from Bastar’s districts, along with a special contingent of surrendered Naxals, competing in traditional tribal sports like archery, javelin, and wrestling. Thousands gathered under the clear winter skies, not in dread of ambushes, but in celebration of athletic spirit and cultural heritage. The event, echoing with cheers and the rhythmic beats of tribal drums, symbolized a stark departure from the region’s blood-soaked past—a past riddled with extortion, kidnappings, and brutal encounters that claimed thousands of lives over decades.

Bastar, spanning seven districts and home to indigenous tribes like the Gond, Maria, and Halba, had long been the epicentre of Naxal insurgency. Maoists, drawing on grievances of exploitation and neglect, turned this mineral-rich land into a war zone, enforcing their red ideology through violence. Villages lived in perpetual terror, with schools bombed, roads mined, and development stalled. Yet, now, as athletes proudly waved the tricolour and chanted “Bharat Mata ki Jai,” it is evident that peace has reclaimed the narrative. This transformation didn’t happen by chance; it is the result of resolute leadership and strategic vision from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Home Minister Amit Shah, who have vowed to eradicate Naxalism from India by March 31, 2026.

Prime Minister Modi’s determination to rid the nation of this Maoist scourge has been unwavering since he assumed office in 2014. Complementing PM Modi’s vision is Home Minister Amit Shah’s tactical acumen and iron will. HM Shah, often dubbed the architect of India’s internal security renaissance, has spearheaded a zero-tolerance policy against extremism. Since taking charge, he has overseen the deployment of additional Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) battalions, equipped with advanced weaponry and training, to dominate the red corridors. HM Shah’s decisive actions include establishing forward operating bases in remote areas, cutting off Maoist supply lines, disrupting their financial networks and targeted seizures. At the Bastar Olympics’ closing ceremony on December 13, 2025, HM Shah delivered a stirring speech, likening Naxalism to a “poisonous snake” that must be crushed to safeguard innocent lives. He reiterated the 2026 deadline, declaring that no Indian should fall victim to this ideology post that date. His hands-on approach is evident in his frequent reviews of operations, where he pushes for inter-agency coordination between state police, paramilitary forces, and intelligence bureaus. Under his watch, the number of Naxal-affected districts has shrunk dramatically, from over 100 to fewer than 10, with Bastar serving as the flagship success story.

The duo’s political willpower is perhaps best illustrated by their response to major setbacks. In 2021, when Maoists ambushed security forces in Sukma, killing 22 jawans, PM Modi and HM Shah didn’t waver. Instead, they escalated operations, leading to the arrest of key leaders and the dismantling of urban Naxal networks. This resilience has inspired ground-level forces, boosting morale and effectiveness. Bastar’s turnaround exemplifies this synergy: once a no-go zone where even elections were boycotted, it now boasts voter turnouts exceeding 70%, with tribals actively participating in democratic processes. The inclusion of surrendered Naxals in the Olympics underscores the government’s rehabilitation focus, turning former rebels into symbols of redemption. PM Modi’s emphasis on “Atmanirbhar Bharat” has extended to these areas, promoting self-reliance through local initiatives, while HM Shah’s security blanket has ensured that development projects proceed unhindered.

Moving beyond security, the second pillar of Bastar’s revival is the Modi government’s aggressive developmental thrust, which promises a luminous future for its inhabitants. Schools, long shuttered by Naxal diktats that viewed education as a threat to their recruitment, have been reopened in droves. Over 265 new institutions now educate thousands of children, equipped with modern facilities, digital classrooms, and mid-day meals to combat malnutrition. Teachers, once fleeing the region, are returning under enhanced protection, fostering a generation free from indoctrination. This educational renaissance is breaking the vicious cycle of poverty and extremism, empowering youth with knowledge and skills for mainstream integration.

Economic opportunities are surging, transforming Bastar from a conflict economy to a hub of growth. The Bastar ‘Investor Connect’ initiative has attracted proposals worth Rs 52,000 crore, spanning agro-processing, mining, and eco-tourism. Local tribes are benefiting from value addition to their forest produce—like tamarind, mahua, and sal seeds—through cooperatives and processing units that ensure fair prices and employment. Mining operations, once halted by violence, are resuming responsibly, with revenues plowed back into community welfare. Tourism is booming, with the Bastar Pandum festival showcasing indigenous arts, crafts, and dances to global audiences, generating livelihoods for artisans and guides.

Infrastructure development is the backbone of this resurgence. Paved roads now connect remote villages, reducing isolation and enabling market access. Digital connectivity via BharatNet brings online education, e-governance, and telemedicine to doorsteps, bridging the urban-rural divide. Skill development centers, under schemes like Pradhan Mantri Kaushal Vikas Yojana, train locals in trades from hospitality to IT, preparing them for jobs in emerging industries. The Chhattisgarh government’s master plan for Bastar’s districts aligns seamlessly with the Centre’s vision, rolling out welfare schemes that provide housing, sanitation, and electricity to the most vulnerable.

As Naxalism recedes, Bastar is on the cusp of unprecedented prosperity. Amit Shah’s pledge to make it India’s most developed tribal region within five years is no rhetoric; it’s backed by actionable blueprints. Youth, once vulnerable to Maoist propaganda, now aspire to careers in sports, business, or civil services. Women-led self-help groups are driving micro-enterprises, fostering gender empowerment. The region’s biodiversity is being harnessed sustainably, with conservation projects that balance ecology and economy. The Bastar Olympics exemplifies the region’s journey from “Lal Salaam” to “Bharat Mata ki Jai”. It marks a decisive triumph for the locals of Bastar over adversity and fear, a triumph scripted by PM Modi and HM Shah’s indomitable will. It serves as a model for conflict resolution worldwide, proving that with security, development, and empathy, even the deepest scars can heal. As the sun sets over Bastar’s verdant hills, it rises on a future brimming with promise—a testament to India’s resilient spirit.

The writer is a national spokesperson of BJP and an acclaimed author.

Every few years, India gets a reminder of just how fragile its aviation ecosystem really is. This time, it took a week-long meltdown at IndiGo a prominent airline service, hundreds of cancellations, airports reduced to holding zones for luggage, and passengers stranded across the country, to expose a truth policymakers prefer to ignore: when a major chunk of the market is controlled by just two airlines, one company’s internal crisis becomes a national emergency. IndiGo’s shortage of pilots, triggered by the rollout of long-delayed fatigue-management rules, should have disrupted one airline. Instead, it paralysed India’s entire aviation network .

Fares shot up to Rs40,000-80,000, refunds lagged for days, and alternative carriers simply didn’t have the capacity to absorb the shock. In a competitive market, passengers would have options. In India’s duopolistic one, they had none. The fatigue rules themselves were not the villain. Pilot exhaustion is a well-documented safety threat globally, and aligning India’s Flight Duty Time Limitations (FDTL) with international norms is long overdue. But the transition was mishandled on every side. Regulators announced the rules almost two years ago, then delayed and re-delayed their enforcement, only to push through implementation abruptly, leaving airlines scrambling. IndiGo, famous for tight turnarounds and a “lean-staffing” model, underestimated how many additional pilots it needed. The regulator underestimated how quickly a brittle system can collapse.

This combination, poor planning meets a market with almost no buffers, is why passengers ended up paying the price. What’s missing from the conversation is the structural cause: India’s aviation sector lacks depth. When just two airlines, IndiGo and Air India, hold over 90 per cent of market share, the entire system depends on their ability to function flawlessly. No modern industry should operate on this kind of razor’s edge. The German aviation sector didn’t collapse when Lufthansa suffered an IT system outage. The US doesn’t grind to a halt when Delta faces a staffing shortfall. In those markets, multiple players create resilience. In India, passengers face a system where when “one airline falters, everyone suffers.” And consumers suffered immensely.

People missed job interviews, medical appointments and weddings. Some reached airports at dawn only to discover their flights cancelled with no SMS alert. Refunds trickled in only after government orders. A country aiming to become the world’s third largest aviation market cannot operate with outdated passenger protection norms. India needs a clear and enforceable Air Passenger Bill of Rights, one that guarantees automatic funds, timely alerts and fair compensation for last minute cancellations, without burdening airlines under knee-jerk regulations. But consumer rights alone won’t fix a market with too little competition. For genuine resilience, India must remove barriers that make it hard for new airlines to scale: high ATF taxes that erode margins, slot allocation policies that reward in cumb ents, and regulatory unpredictability that discourages investment. The government says India has room for five major airlines.

That won’t happen without policy reforms that make market entry easier and ensure a level playing field. IndiGo’s crisis wasn’t just about fatigue rules or rostering miscalculations. It was a stress test for the entire sector, and the system failed. India’s aviation future depends on embracing what every competitive, consumer-friendly market eventually learns: choice is stability. The more players in the sky, the fewer passengers will ever be stranded because one airline miscalculated. If India wants a resilient aviation ecosystem, it must stop firefighting and start enabling competition. The skies need more carriers, more capacity, and more consumer choice. Otherwise, this won’t be the last time passengers pay for a crisis they didn’t create. (The writer is Indian Policy Associate, Consumer Choice Center.)

Widening disparities in income and wealth both within and across countries have become among the most pressing global challenges of our time. As inequalities deepen, the call for coordinated international action has only grown louder, highlighting the need for shared commitment and collective responsibility. Echoing this growing discourse is the G20 Global Inequality Report , prepare d under the leadership of Nobel Laureate Professor Joseph E. Stiglitz. A key fact the report mentions is that global wealth, which has more than doubled in the last two decades, reaching US$480 trillion in 2024, could have financed the eradication of world hunger, universal education for every child, and an accelerated shift away from fossil fuels had it been equitably distributed.

However, from 2000 to 2024, the top 1 per cent captured 41 per cent of all new global wealth, while the bottom half received only 1 per cent. This trend is not the inevitable outcome of globalisation or technology, as it is often claimed. The report puts this myth to rest with a simple, yet powerful message: inequality is a policy choice, and it is therefore solvable. The need of the hour for governments is to adopt alternative policy approaches that yield more equitable and fair outcomes, which in turn requires political will. Since the 1980s, many countries have adopted neoliberal policies, assuming that market forces with minimal regulation efficiently allocate resources, but this has only increased inequality. For example, the choice of tax policies, such as the value-added tax (VAT), has been regressive, as effective tax rates on corporations and the wealthiest individuals in most countries have fallen dramatically, disproportionately impacting poorer households.

Further, with governments enacting policies that deregulated the labour market and restricted trade unions, the power of labour vis-à-vis capital has been reduced, leading to wage stagnation and a smaller share of income for workers. The effects are stark: in constant 2024 dollars, the richest 1 per cent have seen their wealth rise by an average of US$1.3 m per person, while the bottom 50 per cent have seen their wealth rise by just US$585 – a 2,655-fold difference. Moreover, growth in advanced economies has been lower under neoliberal regimes than in the post-World War II era. Instead, the world now faces deepening crises: 3.4 billion people live in countries spending more on debt service than on health or education.

Neoliberalism was adopted with the understanding that it would increase inequality, a trade-off justified by the promise of higher overall growth, but that has failed to materialise. Instead, the effect of neoliberal policies, driven by the spread of globalisation, has been to favour capital and market flexibility at the expense of social welfare. Debt payments in the Global South have risen from 28 to 45 per cent of budget revenue between 2019 and 2025, and from 22 to 35 per cent of government spending. Between 1970 and 2023, Global South governments paid US$3.3 trillion in interest to creditors in the North, while global IP rules cause US$1 trillion to flow annually from the South to the North in royalties and licensing, and illicit financial flows drain US$89 billion from Africa each year.

It implies that capital is flowing from the Global North to the Global South. Additionally, unprecedented cuts in aid compound the crisis: the recent US cuts alone may lead to 14 million additional deaths by 2030, with the addition of escalating tariff p olicies that threaten export-oriented jobs and deepen poverty. Although income inequality among individuals worldwide has decreased since 2000, mainly due to economic development in China, it remains very high, with a Gini coefficient of 0.61 (the World Bank’s definition of ‘high inequality’ is a Gini coefficient above 0.4). Moreover, 83 per cent of the countries that make up 90 per cent of the world’s population experience high income inequality.

By 2025, 63 per cent of countries, home to 52 per cent of the world’s population, will slash public spending by a combined US$2.55 trillion over five years. Further, one in four people globally face moderate or severe food insecurity, i.e., regularly skipping meals, totalling 2.3 billion people, a number that has increased by 335 million since 2019. These structural inequalities are no accident; they result from globally imbalanced rules, shaped mainly by the North through institutions such as the IMF and the WTO. The necessary force to reverse the deliberate design of today’s inequality is not technical fixes, but political will. This will is the collective commitment by governments to acknowledge the legacy of past policy decisions, actively choose a different set of policies, and implement them to reverse the trend. Towards this end, the report argues that policymakers lack sufficient, reliable information on inequality trends and the impacts of present policies. Therefore, there is a need for a technical, non-advocacy body that would support governments and multilateral agencies by providing authoritative assessments and analyses of inequality to inform policymaking.

Inspired in part by the success of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and proposed to be called ‘International Panel on Inequality’ (IPI), the body could consist of a diverse, independent group of experts, supported by a secretariat centred on data and policy-relevant analysis rather than advocacy. The idea is to monitor existing research, assess data and knowledge gaps, and produce periodic, policy-relevant assessments of the drivers, measurement, and impacts of income and wealth inequality, and their relationships to other dimensions such as health and opportunity. This work by the “Extraordinary Committee of Independent Experts on Global Inequality,” an important legacy of the South African Presidency of the G20, consolidates decades of research and invigorates global coordination to reduce inequality at both national and international levels.

It combines rigorous academic and data-based evidence to argue that extreme inequality is a choice: one which not only undermines the economic security of the majority but also weakens our collective capacity to address planetary challenges such as climate change, public health crises, and food insecurity. The report offers a note of optimism amid harsh realities and the troubling legacy of past decisions. It contends that with informed choices rooted in a deep understanding of the structures, drivers, and consequences of inequality, it is possible to reverse current trends and build a future in which prosperity is more broadly and fairly shared.

(The writers are, respectively, chair and a researcher at the Institute for Competitiveness.)

India’s wealth story is increasingly told through a confusing set of headlines. On the one hand, the country is adding new dollar-millionaires at a brisk pace. On the other, the average Indian adult is not materially better off than a few years ago. This is not a statistical contradiction. It is a warning that inequality has moved from the margins to the centre of India’s economic narrative. Recent global wealth data places India among the world’s most unequal societies, with wealth concentration now comparable to that of far richer economies.

The comparison is unsettling not because it flatters India, but because inequality in several advanced economies has eased in recent years while it has worsened here. That divergence suggests outcomes are shaped less by inevitability and more by policy design. The most revealing insight lies in the divergence between average and median wealth. Average wealth per adult has declined in real terms, while median wealth has risen modestly. This tells a dual story. A segment of households is experiencing slow, incremental improvement. At the same time, wealth accumulation at the very top is accelerating so rapidly that it overwhelms those gains when averages are calculated. The surge in millionaires, therefore, is not evidence of broad prosperity; it is evidence of polarisation.

This polarisation is reinforced by the way Indians hold wealth. A disproportionately large share is tied up in property rather than financial assets. Property offers security but is illiquid and unevenly valued. Urban land prices surge while rural and semi-urban assets lag, hardening inequality across generations. Financial assets such as pensions, diversified equity and long-term savings are far better at spreading growth across a population. Their limited reach in India is not merely a financial-sector gap; it is an inequality multiplier. Currency movements and inflation complicate the picture, but they do not overturn it. Even when measured in local currency and adjusted for prices, average wealth has struggled to keep pace with the cost of living over the past five years. This means household balance sheets, taken as a whole, have failed to capture the benefits of headline economic expansion.

Growth has occurred, but resilience has not been evenly built. None of this implies that India is becoming poorer in absolute terms, nor does it deny improvements in consumption or access to services. Wealth does not measure human capital or the full depth of the informal economy. But it does reveal who is building buffers against shocks, and who is not. In an era of climate stress, health emergencies, and job volatility, that distinction matters. The policy lesson is clear. Growth rates alone are no longer an adequate yardstick. India’s challenge is to redesign the channels through which growth turns into household wealth: deeper financial inclusion, stronger wage growth at the lower end, and asset-building mechanisms that do not rely almost entirely on rising property values. Without this shift, India may continue to celebrate its new millionaires even as the distance between aspiration and security widens for the rest.