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new-face-of-governance-how-personal-branding-is-reshaping-state-elections

Sat Mar 28 12:40:58 IST 2026

On March 6, Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee sat on a pavement in central Kolkata, protesting the Election Commission’s deletion of more than 60 lakh voters’ names during the special intensive revision. It might seem unusual to see a sitting chief minister behaving like an opposition leader, but for the 71-year-old Banerjee, it was familiar ground.

Nearly two decades ago, she had occupied the same spot for a 26-day hunger strike against the left government’s decision to set up the Tata Nano plant in Singur. Within two years, Tata Motors moved to Gujarat at the invitation of then chief minister Narendra Modi, and Banerjee rode the momentum of her protest to end 34 years of left rule in Bengal.

Banerjee has always operated best when the contest is direct and personal. She tends to gain ground when challenged. This February, she appeared in person before the Supreme Court to argue against SIR. And now, her fight for a consecutive fourth term has turned the state elections presidential. It is a referendum on her politics, style and governance.

This pattern is not confined to Bengal. Across Tamil Nadu, Assam and, to a lesser extent, Puducherry, campaigns are built around the image of dominant chief ministers who often dwarf the party machinery.

In each state, the chief minister has built a distinct political brand, sustained through a combination of welfare delivery and the mobilisation of sub-national identity. In Tamil Nadu, for instance, M.K. Stalin has consolidated the DMK’s position through welfare expansion. In Assam, Himanta Biswa Sarma has combined governance with assertive political messaging centred on identity.

“Leadership has become a key factor in many state elections, especially where regional parties dominate, as their popularity is closely tied to the leader,” said Prof Sanjay Kumar of Centre for the Study of Developing Societies. “There is a mix of pro- and anti-incumbency. Rather than clear pro-incumbency, it is better described as a broadly acceptable assessment of the ruling party in some states. In others, support persists without strong enthusiasm. This is often due to the absence of a credible alternative. In some states, the opposition is weak; in others, there is a degree of apprehension about the alternative.”

Kumar, who analyses data, argues that the leadership factor will be strongest in Bengal and not as strong in Kerala. This is interesting, as the left in Kerala is not pushing the image of Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan as strongly as it had during the last elections. In the past few years, there has been a distinct personality-centric narrative around him—unusual for a party that has historically resisted individual glorification.

Political observer A. Jayashankar noted that after the LDF’s strong performance in the 2020 local body polls, CPI(M) cadres had aggressively amplified the ‘Captain’ image. Vijayan’s government built its case on welfare schemes, infrastructure development and crisis response during Covid-19, which saw him retain power in 2021.

But now, the opposition, both the Congress and the BJP, says this record has been dented by allegations of corruption, a gold theft incident at Sabarimala and a governance slowdown.

The results of the 2025 local body elections were a shock for the Vijayan government, as the Congress-led UDF made handsome gains. The shift is now visible—the LDF’s approach this time seems to be on reinforcing the image and performance of individual MLAs, with a sense that a Vijayan-centric campaign alone could be detrimental. He is still the face, but that is not being projected as forcefully as last time.

The strategy marks a departure from 2021, when votes were sought for ‘Captain’ to continue. “This marks the biggest change in the CPI(M)’s electoral approach in recent times,” said political observer and social researcher Joel Thomas Mathews. Nevertheless, the LDF’s campaign slogan is “Who else but LDF?”, with Vijayan’s face next to it—in a way, it raises the question: “Who else but Vijayan?”

In 2021, because of the strongman image built around Vijayan, the CPI(M) had the flexibility to enforce a two-term limit on most senior leaders—Vijayan being the exception, of course. In contrast, the CPI(M) is now fielding 56 sitting MLAs, including the chief minister, with many contesting beyond the two-term norm.

In 51 of 140 constituencies, the LDF has not lost since 2011—a statistic that strengthens the case for retaining sitting MLAs, and one that reflects the anxiety around the results.

“Here, there is a clearer sense of anti-incumbency,” says Kumar. “There are concerns about corruption and expectations from a left government are higher. Even minor shortcomings generate stronger reactions because the benchmark for governance is stricter.”

The opposition is banking on this anti-incumbency, and it seems the UDF’s strategy is more centred on Pinarayi than the LDF’s own campaign. This could, however, be a double-edged sword, as voters have repeatedly shown that they prefer chief ministers who are in charge and available. It is on that count that Vijayan will be judged.

What the poll-bound chief ministers are also doing is doubling down on regional pride. Banerjee has done it through Bengali asmita, Vijayan tried it by renaming Kerala to Keralam, and Stalin has been pushing dravidian identity. He, in fact, announced a reward of $1 million to anyone who could decipher the Indus Valley script, which Tamil scholars are exploring for cultural linkages with the state. This has spurred archaeological discoveries at Keezhadi and Adichanallur, pushing back Tamil Nadu’s antiquity considerably.

Stalin has also opposed the Centre’s three-language formula and the politically sensitive delimitation process, which would stifle south India’s voice at the national level by allotting a lot more Lok Sabha seats to the north.

Stalin was the ‘heir-in-waiting’ for most of his political career, but his image began growing organically after he won the 2021 assembly elections. The first turning point came when he wore a PPE kit and walked into a Covid-19 ward in Coimbatore. The second was when he accepted the demand to extend the free bus ride scheme for women to the transgender community as well. “The decision was taken when someone placed the request via social media,” said DMK spokesperson S.K.P. Karuna. “He immediately consulted the authorities and made a quick decision. [His image] was organically built. It is because of his personal qualities and his nature. He is an inclusive leader. No one has ever heard him talk in a harsh tone or even express anger.”

What has also helped Stalin is his ability to maintain an alliance. This meant having to deal with Congress intermediaries and even dialling Sonia Gandhi and Congress president Mallikarjun Kharge in the presence of former Union minister P. Chidambaram. “This is not merely an alliance of arithmetic,” he had said. “It is an alliance of principles.”

Said author and political strategist Aspire K. Swaminathan: “A coalition that his opponents predicted would splinter has instead grown larger heading into the 2026 [elections]. In Tamil Nadu’s history, this is the first time a single alliance front is entering elections for the fourth consecutive time, still intact.”

But perhaps the biggest plus for Stalin is reliable and visible welfare delivery. The state government recently transferred Rs5,000 each to the accounts of more than 1.31 crore women and promised to increase the monthly incentive from Rs1,000 to Rs2,000 if the DMK-led alliance wins.

Then there is also the breakfast scheme for schoolchildren, monthly cash support for students and UPSC coaching under the Naan Mudhalvan scheme, which political analysts say could create ‘pro-incumbency’.

In Bihar, JD(U) president Nitish Kumar won because of his loyal constituency of women and extremely backward classes, whom he courted through targeted delivery. Voters tend to rely on those who are already delivering, even when the counter-offer seems attractive.

“In Tamil Nadu, the lack of a credible alternative plays a role,” said Kumar. “The DMK is relatively more popular compared with the ruling parties in some other states.”

Stalin has to face the NDA formation—primarily the AIADMK and BJP—and actor Vijay’s Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam, which is an unknown quantity these elections. However, the DMK-led alliance seems to have an edge currently, thanks largely to the chief minister himself.

Puducherry Chief Minister N. Rangasamy also finds himself at the centre of the Union territory’s politics. But unlike the flamboyant leadership in Tamil Nadu, the All India NR Congress leader is known for his calm, understated style. He has had to navigate administrative tensions—including a powerful lieutenant governor and BJP-appointed members—while holding his ground within the NDA alliance.

He is Puducherry’s longest-serving chief minister, and his image is built on simplicity. He is seen as approachable and grounded, often cycling through the narrow lanes of the old French quarter, stopping at local eateries or playing tennis in the mornings. A close aide describes him as a leader who “reads the situation quickly and pushes for what is possible”.

Like Stalin, his welfare measures, including higher pensions, school breakfast schemes and education assistance, have helped build a durable support base.

His government had been criticised for administrative delays and a lack of internal party structure, which led to his defeat in 2016. Since then, he has recalibrated his politics, aligning with the BJP despite its limited base in Puducherry and playing a key role in the fall of the Congress government in 2021. In the past term, he has retained control within the alliance even as the BJP has sought a larger role.

Whether his personal appeal can once again outweigh structural challenges will decide if he continues in the chair. “In Puducherry, the NDA appears to have an edge, partly because of weak opposition alliances,” says Kumar.

The BJP has faced strong headwinds in its quest to expand in the south, but it has had more luck in the east and northeast. And the man the party has to thank for this is Himanta Biswa Sarma.

The Assam elections will be a referendum on his rule. He got the post after then chief minister Sarbananda Sonowal agreed to move to the Centre in 2021. Since then, Sarma—through his aggression and unrelenting attacks on ‘miyas’, a term for Bangladeshi Muslims—has foregrounded the demographic anxiety that has long been prevalent in the state. A key project in this narrative is the Shaheed Smarak Kshetra at Boragaon, on the outskirts of Guwahati, which is a memorial dedicated to the 860 martyrs of the Assam Agitation—a popular uprising in the 1980s that demanded that illegal immigrants be deported. Sarma has often used the monument to invoke memory and identity, urging people to “safeguard Assam’s identity” and to warn against “demographic aggression”. It remains to be seen if this line of campaigning bears fruit or ends up backfiring.

Sarma has coupled the identity issue with infrastructure development and popular schemes like Orunodoi, under which women receive Rs1,250 per month. Roads, bridges and urban projects have added to a sense of visible change.

Professor Dibyajyoti Dutta, head of the department of political science at Dibrugarh University, noted that Sarma has “worked to capture public imagination” across constituencies, particularly among women and welfare beneficiaries. His constant visibility and direct engagement, Dutta said, have helped build a perception of credibility.

However, welfare delivery, particularly among younger voters, does not automatically translate into loyalty. “There can be a gap between perception and actual voting behaviour,” said Dutta, noting that a more questioning electorate had begun to emerge, especially among the youth.

And that is where the elections could turn. There is an underlying discontent, but it has not yet consolidated into a unified movement.

Within the BJP, the framing remains clear. The campaign is centred on development, with Sarma as its face. Assam BJP vice-president Aparajita Bhuyan said the party’s confidence rests on “trust in leadership”. “The biggest change has been how the state is viewed,” she said. “Whenever we go out, people point out that Sarma is our chief minister. He is known across the country. He has made us all visible.”

On contentious issues such as illegal immigration, Bhuyan said the party’s stand reflected “a widely felt concern” rather than a polarising strategy against Muslims.

At the same time, the death of cultural icon Zubeen Garg, whose music has long been associated with Assamese identity, triggered a wave of mourning that cut across political lines. There has been criticism that the state government has not done enough to bring those responsible to justice. This visible concern among the youth has shifted the focus to state Congress president Gaurav Gogoi, said Dutta. Bhuyan, however, said: “From a distance, there may appear to be a contest between him and Gaurav Gogoi, but on the ground that perception does not hold.”

Except for Assam, where the BJP has a prominent face in Sarma, the party is relying mostly on Modi as a challenger to the regional leaders, especially in Bengal. After Banerjee ousted the left government, the state’s politics saw another disruption when Modi arrived on the scene. The BJP began targeting the same anti-left, aspirational and conservative voters who had once rallied behind Banerjee. It added a sharper layer of identity politics and an explicit pro-market appeal.

Banerjee did not move in that direction. Instead, she built a model based on welfare delivery and careful social balancing. That recalibration has been most visible in her focus on women voters. Schemes such as Lakshmir Bhandar and other forms of direct support have helped create a loyal base. This approach, seen in parts of Bihar and the southern states, has worked in her favour, especially as other segments of her earlier base have become more fluid.

“Mamata Banerjee is a leader who can face any kind of problem throughout Bengal,” said Trinamool Congress MLA Sobhandeb Chattopadhyay. “If a party worker is tortured, she is the first to reach [out]. She has been beaten so many times. People know that she is a real fighter, who fights for the people of West Bengal, from Darjeeling to Purulia. When she became chief minister, she started development projects. Even when the Centre stopped its projects, she did not stop hers. People of Bengal have benefited from these.”

Her highly centralised leadership style—holding multiple portfolios, depending heavily on bureaucratic execution and keeping decision-making tightly controlled—allows for speed and clarity, but also means that any anti-incumbency accumulates directly against her.

While she might still have an edge, the SIR issue adds a layer of uncertainty. Migrants and poor voters could face greater difficulty in staying on the rolls, which could affect turnout patterns in specific regions, including Muslim-dominated areas. However, the impact is unlikely to be one-sided.

For the BJP, the challenge is not just electoral but structural. Its sole focus on the Hindu vote and a singular narrative limits its ability to expand, and the absence of a strong, state-level leadership face remains a weakness.

The BJP had made impressive gains in the previous assembly elections, winning 77 seats and 38 per cent vote share, the latter even going up marginally in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections. The number of seats, however, fell from 18 to 12.

“[Banerjee’s] high appeasement politics did not benefit Muslims,” said BJP leader Suvendu Adhikari. “She did not give them jobs and there is no development.”

After 15 years, there is of course some anti-incumbency against the government. There are complaints about governance, welfare fatigue and local corruption. However, it does not seem strong enough to shift the balance. Unlike the final years of the left rule, the current government has shown visible change in infrastructure and welfare outreach.

Banerjee recently increased the monthly amount under Lakshmir Bhandar to Rs1,500, and announced an aid of Rs1,500 every month for the unemployed and an increase in monthly honoraria for priests and muezzins. All this, she hopes, would help her counter the fallout of the SIR and voter fatigue.

“The Trinamool Congress appears stronger than the BJP, but this is not necessarily because of widespread satisfaction with governance,” said Kumar. “Public sentiment is more moderate—neither strongly positive nor negative. A key factor is identity. There is a shared perception among voters that language, culture and regional identity are at stake. There is some anxiety that a BJP government could, over time, dilute Bengali identity. The Trinamool is seen as rooted in that identity, which explains its continued support.”

The results on May 4 will have an impact beyond these states, especially for the BJP and the Congress. How well the BJP does in Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Bengal will decide whether Modi can rival Jawaharlal Nehru’s pan-India appeal in the years after independence.

The bigger impact will be on the Congress and the internal dynamics of the INDIA bloc. The party is not a significant player in Bengal or Tamil Nadu, and only a marginal one in Puducherry. Its real stakes are in Kerala and Assam, and it has a stronger chance of winning the former. If it fails to do so, its position as the central pillar of the INDIA bloc would be under question.

—with inputs from Lakshmi Subramanian, Prema Rajaram and Nirmal Jovial

beyond-delhis-shadow-how-regional-leaders-are-reshaping-indian-democracy

Sat Mar 28 12:40:05 IST 2026

The upcoming assembly polls are separate contests with their own local logic. Yet taken together, they amount to something larger: a test of where power actually sits in the Indian republic and whether the chief minister, as a political figure of genuine weight, is surviving or slowly being hollowed out.

To understand this, it helps to begin with two forts. Fort William in Calcutta and Fort St George in Madras were once the twin anchors of British imperial authority in India. Between them, they symbolised an empire that ruled by controlling its extremities. The empire is long gone, but the metaphor remains relevant. In the BJP’s current political geography, Bengal and Tamil Nadu are still the two territories it has not been able to conquer. If Narendra Modi’s BJP were to win both, the political map of India would, for the first time since Jawaharlal Nehru, show a single ruling dispensation stretching from the Himalayas to Kanyakumari.

When India held its first general elections in 1951-52, the Congress swept the country. But the reality was more complex. Nehru was the tallest leader of his era, yet he governed alongside chief ministers such as B.C. Roy in West Bengal, Pratap Singh Kairon in Punjab and Govind Ballabh Pant in Uttar Pradesh, all powerful figures in their own right. Even at the height of Congress dominance, chief ministers were not passive administrators waiting for instructions from Delhi.

The first serious centralisation came under Indira Gandhi. Regional heavyweights were steadily cut down, Article 356 (President’s rule) was used with increasing frequency and Delhi’s control over who became chief minister, and for how long, grew far less subtle. By the 1980s, the consequences were clear. Chief ministers could be removed abruptly and political instability used as an instrument of control. The Supreme Court’s Bommai judgment in 1994 placed limits on Article 356, making arbitrary dismissals harder. It did not end central interference. It only forced it to take new forms.

Then, between 1989 and 2014, the whole thing inverted. Coalition governments at the Centre changed the balance of power. Regional leaders suddenly held real leverage. Chandrababu Naidu was courted by successive prime ministers. J. Jayalalithaa could make and break governments. In that phase, the chief minister was not a satellite of Delhi. In many cases, the chief minister was the centre.

Meanwhile, another shift was taking place. Sheila Dikshit showed across three consecutive terms in Delhi that a chief minister focused on governance could build an electoral identity independent of the national party. Her victories demonstrated that the office of chief minister, when used seriously, was that of a real executive with real authority.

Rama Rao had already altered something deeper. His subsidised rice scheme in Andhra Pradesh created a direct relationship between the state and ordinary voters, bypassing traditional intermediaries of caste and patronage. Jayalalithaa turned this into a governing philosophy. But welfare alone does not guarantee victory. Jagan Mohan Reddy, Naveen Patnaik and Ashok Gehlot rolled out scheme after scheme. They all eventually lost. Welfare can build a base, but not certainty. Leadership, credibility and political energy still decide elections in the end.

After 2014, the pendulum swung again, this time with considerable force. The constitutional logic of Indian democracy holds that MPs elect the prime minister. Since 2014, in many constituencies it is the prime minister’s face that determines the result. In practice, the prime minister is electing the MPs.

The same logic has been pushed down to the states. In Gujarat, which has returned the BJP to power six consecutive times, many voters would struggle to name the current chief minister. Shivraj Singh Chouhan, who built a strong political identity in Madhya Pradesh, was quietly eased aside. Vasundhara Raje in Rajasthan and Raman Singh in Chhattisgarh were replaced by leaders with far less independent standing. The BJP spent years presenting itself as the antidote to the Congress system—dynastic control, high-command culture and centralisation. In practice, it has created something structurally similar, even if the ideology is different.

That is why 2026 matters. Mamata Banerjee in Bengal, M.K. Stalin in Tamil Nadu and Pinarayi Vijayan in Kerala are not leaders waiting for clearance from Delhi. They have built authority rooted in governance, organisation and regional identity. If they hold their ground, it will show that wherever strong linguistic and cultural identities exist, the Centre’s reach still has limits.

—As told to Pratul Sharma.

Kidwai is an author and political commentator.

calling-us-right-wing-is-a-desperate-political-gimmick-pinarayi-vijayan

Sat Mar 28 12:39:10 IST 2026

Interview/ Pinarayi Vijayan, chief minister, Kerala

When Pinarayi Vijayan was finishing class five, his mother, Kalyani, was advised by a teacher never to stop his education. At a time when many children left school to work, she followed that advice and sent him to high school. There, another teacher urged her to let him study as far as he could and stop only if he failed.

He never did. Decades later, as Vijayan seeks an unprecedented third consecutive term as Kerala’s chief minister, that early lesson in persistence offers a way of understanding his political journey. In office, as in school, he has relied on endurance—pushing through crises, absorbing setbacks and betting on continuity. The question now is whether that same instinct can carry him through his toughest electoral test yet.

Excerpts from an exclusive interview:

Q/ Which decisions or policies of your two terms do you consider the most consequential for Kerala?

Our priority has been to improve the living standards of ordinary people through comprehensive welfare measures, by strengthening public health and educational institutions, and by creating world-class infrastructure. One of the most important interventions has been the LIFE Mission project, through which five lakh homes have been built for the homeless. Another milestone has been the eradication of extreme poverty through committed, decentralised and customised plans. As many as 64,006 families have been lifted out of extreme poverty.

The launch of the Water Metro in Kochi—the first such service in the country—is another watershed moment. Similarly, the inauguration of Phase I of the Wayanad township fulfilled our promise to the victims of the 2024 Mundakkai-Chooralmala landslide disaster. The commissioning of the Vizhinjam International Seaport, the establishment of the country’s first digital university, the creation of the first graphene centre, the expansion of national highways and the distribution of 4.5 lakh land title deeds to the landless are among the major achievements of our government. The seamless distribution of social security pensions to nearly 62 lakh beneficiaries also reflects our commitment to a welfare-driven development model. Around Rs5,500 crore has been spent on modernising schools, resulting in 55,000 classrooms with modern facilities. The higher education sector has also undergone significant change, with nearly Rs2,300 crore invested in advanced infrastructure and curriculum reform.

Through the Kerala Fibre Optic Network (KFON), we have also broken private monopolies in the digital sector. By providing high-speed internet to government offices and more than one lakh economically weaker households free of cost, we have turned the digital divide into a digital opportunity for our youth. Our health sector continues to be a global model, with an infant mortality rate of 5, outperforming several developed countries. With more than 7,400 start-ups and investments worth Rs6,000 crore, over 74,000 jobs have been created in the technology sector.

Q/ Ten years in power can lead to voter fatigue, even for a government with achievements.

The cornerstone of political democracy is loyalty to the electorate. A governance model, or any dispensation, should be evaluated for its sincerity in delivering promises. The LDF government has delivered on all its promises. So, there isn’t any discontent among the people about this dispensation.

Q/ The opposition leader calls the Congress and the UDF the “real left” and describes your government as right-wing.

Left politics in Kerala is defined by uncompromising secularism, social justice and the protection of the public sector against neoliberal onslaughts. The opposition leader’s attempt to label us “right-wing” is a desperate political gimmick to mask the UDF’s own ideological inconsistencies and historical soft-pedalling on communalism. Our “Kerala Model” prioritises the marginalised and resists corporate-driven policies, which is the very antithesis of right-wing governance.

Q/ The CPI(M) has repeatedly expressed concern about the BJP’s growing presence in Kerala, particularly among sections once seen as your traditional strongholds. How do you assess this rise and the BJP’s claim that even a few seats could change the state’s political balance?

The BJP’s claim that they only need a few seats to alter the state’s equilibrium is an assault on Kerala’s secular fabric and democratic traditions. We view their growth not as a shift in the state’s soul, but as a challenge that requires us to further strengthen our secular grassroots mobilisation. While they may try to exploit specific local grievances, Kerala’s politically conscious electorate has consistently rejected their divisive ideology. And we have complete faith in them to reject the vicious communal hatemongering in the coming elections, too.

Q/ Several senior leaders have left the CPI(M) and are contesting as rebels with UDF backing.

The departure of one or two leaders is driven by personal “parliamentary ambitions” rather than any ideological disagreement or deeper unease within the party. The CPI(M) is a cadre-based organisation that functions on collective decision-making, and those who prioritise individual interests over party principles naturally find themselves alienated. History shows that those who leave the party to join hands with our rivals eventually lose their political relevance, as the people of Kerala value loyalty to the cause.

Q/ As the BJP foregrounds development while keeping hindutva in the background, has the left’s political agenda also shifted?

For us, development is not a substitute for ideology; it is the practical application of our ideology to improve the lives of the working class. While the BJP uses “development” as a mask for hindutva, our development is inclusive, secular and aimed at social empowerment, ensuring our ideological moorings remain as firm as ever.

Q/ The Sabarimala issue placed your government in a difficult position during your first term. CPI(M) leaders now speak of respecting believers’ sentiments.

Our approach has always been to uphold the law while respecting the evolving consensus of society. We have consistently maintained that matters of faith should be discussed with religious scholars and social reformers, a stance we have now formally reiterated to the Supreme Court. This is not a “U-turn” but a nuanced balancing of constitutional obligations with the lived experiences and sentiments of the faithful.

Q/ Critics say the Sabarimala gold controversy has raised broader concerns about transparency and accountability in the Devaswom boards.

The SIT investigation into the Sabarimala controversy is monitored by the High Court, ensuring complete transparency and preventing any political interference. Anyone found guilty of financial irregularities or breach of trust will face the full force of the law. We have always empowered the Devaswom boards to function with autonomy, and these legal proceedings are part of our commitment to maintaining the sanctity and accountability of our public institutions.

Q/ The Congress accuses the CPI(M) of “adjustment politics” with the BJP, while the CPI(M) speaks of a Congress-Muslim League-BJP nexus.

In Kerala, the UDF often aligns with extremist elements like the Jamaat-e-Islami or engages in “adjustment politics” with the BJP to undermine the left. We place utmost priority on fighting the sangh parivar’s onslaught on our secular psyche and constitutional framework. We also emphasise resisting the market-driven neoliberal ideology that forms the essence of policymaking in the country now. Both the BJP and Congress follow the path of neoliberal restructuring of our economy, and we firmly oppose them. Our stand is clear. We champion people-centric welfare politics and oppose economic reforms in favour of monopoly corporate interests. The left also remains steadfast in resisting any form of communalism that endangers the essence of our unity.

from-nandigram-to-bhabanipur-suvendu-adhikari-takes-the-fight-to-mamata-banerjees-turf

Sat Mar 28 12:37:46 IST 2026

The bylanes of Bhabanipur assembly constituency, aka Bhowanipore, in south Kolkata have become prime property this election season. Its walls have come alive in myriad hues, with posters, flags and graffiti of rival parties jostling for space. There are, of course, posters of its incumbent representative—Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee of the Trinamool Congress. The graffiti has the ruling party’s symbol, with text below that reads: ‘Cast your vote in favour of Mamata Banerjee’. Right next to it is the poster of leader of opposition Suvendu Adhikari of the BJP, challenging Banerjee in her home constituency—a Trinamool stronghold ever since she came to power in 2011. The poster reads: ‘Ebar BJP sarkar [This time, it will be the BJP’s government].’

But that is easier said than done. Banerjee is seen as the daughter of the constituency, having lived here all her life. “Never in my life have I changed my residence. I had asked my mother once if I should, she had firmly said no,” said Banerjee, who kickstarted her campaign by chairing a meeting of party workers. “I stay here 365 days. Before stepping out for campaigning across the state, I come here to take Bhabanipur’s blessings.”

Banerjee also met booth agents, who had provided assistance to local residents during the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) exercise. She believes that the availability of Trinamool workers during the SIR exercise will benefit the party electorally. Despite more than 47,000 electors being deleted from the 2026 final SIR list, the Trinamool is looking at a victory margin of 60,000 votes in Bhabanipur (in the 2021 bypolls, Banerjee had won by a margin of 58,832 votes). Party general secretary Abhishek Banerjee has asked workers to secure an additional five votes each at the 231 polling booths where the party was leading in Bhabanipur, which is part of the Kolkata South Lok Sabha constituency—also a Trinamool stronghold.

“People of Bhabanipur know that Mamata Banerjee is the real leader,” said Trinamool MLA Sobhandeb Chattopadhyay. “People admire her fighting spirit. I have seen her since her childhood. I have seen her fight in college. She stood by those who had been tortured by the CPI(M) then. That is her character. When she came to power, she extended all help to the poor and the middle-class people and that is her trump card in the elections.”

That feisty image of Banerjee has been her trademark long before her Singur and Nandigram agitation days. It is an image imprinted on the minds of most voters here. “She has fought for everyone here in the middle of Jadu Babu Bazar,” recalled a voter. “She has had injuries on her head, hands and feet.” And, age clearly hasn’t dimmed her fighting spirit—in February, she donned the lawyer’s garb to argue her case in the SIR petition in the Supreme Court.

Apart from her fearless streak and filial chord with the constituency, what has consolidated her connect with people are her government’s social welfare schemes.

“The BJP comes only during elections,” said Deepak Chowdhury, who claimed his vote is against corruption. “Mamata is a mass leader. People love her because of her good work. The councillor is also from Trinamool, which is a plus point.”

Devi, another voter, recalled the government’s work during Covid-19. “Didi does things for people’s welfare. Many don’t want to help, but Didi wants to help and stands by people. She helped a lot of people during Covid,” she said, adding that rural households received dal and rice that saved them from starvation then.

Adhikari, on the other hand, is seen as an outsider by a section of voters. “Is the person who is contesting from here a resident of this area? If anyone here has a problem, will we go to Nandigram (Adhikari’s constituency) to find him? Who will we go to? We will go to Mamata Banerjee, our leader. That is why we want our leader.” said Suraj Mondol, a Trinamool supporter.

Adhikari and Banerjee have electoral history. In 2021, Banerjee contested against him in his turf—Nandigram (from where he had won in 2016). She won the state, but lost to him by a margin of 1,956 votes. This time, Adhikari is taking the fight to her turf—Bhabanipur—while also contesting from Nandigram.

“Mamata Banerjee is going to lose once again,” said Adhikari, while kickstarting his door-to-door campaign in Bhabanipur. “Mamata Banerjee is the chief minister of West Bengal. This is not her individual fight. She ruined Bengal for 15 years. It is very important to defeat the Trinamool and the chief minister.” He added that he would win by a margin of 25,000 votes. If he does, he will be a key contender for the chief minister’s post, provided the BJP sweeps the state.

The BJP is confident of Adhikari’s winning capabilities. “It will be a tough fight. But the BJP has fielded its most capable leader,” said BJP leader Tapas Roy, who, like Adhikari, was once part of the Trinamool.

That confidence has trickled down to the party’s supporters as well. While S. Pandey, a woman BJP supporter, said that they are ready to fight and die for Adhikari’s victory, another supporter Asha Nath quipped, “A royal Bengal tiger has come to us. Mamata Banerjee will have to run with her shoes in her hand. She can run to Bangladesh.”

scientific-scrutiny-meets-ancient-wisdom-how-traditional-indian-medicine-is-finding-its-place

Sat Mar 21 17:06:10 IST 2026

Traditional systems of medicine in India today sit in a complicated space between reverence and scepticism. For centuries, practices such as ayurveda, unani, siddha and sowa rigpa have formed an integral part of health care across the subcontinent, and continue to attract a loyal following. Yet concerns persist over the lack of scientific research, weak regulation and the proliferation of unqualified practitioners.

At the same time, the BJP-led Union government has significantly expanded its support for alternative medicine. Soon after coming to power in 2014, it created a separate ministry of Ayush (ayurveda, yoga and naturopathy, unani, siddha and homeopathy).

“We have established about 12,000 Ayushman Arogya Mandirs in rural areas,” Prataprao Jadhav, Union minister of state (independent charge) for Ayush, tells THE WEEK. “We are opening Ayush departments in AIIMS.” The push also included a controversial 2020 decision allowing ayurveda practitioners to perform surgeries.

Supporters argue that surgical traditions in ayurveda date back to the ancient physician Sushruta. Such claims sit uneasy alongside reports that raise questions about safety. Last year, a five-month-old in Madhya Pradesh reportedly died after consuming ayurvedic medicine, while a teenager in Kerala developed severe liver failure linked to prolonged ayurvedic treatment.

The debate becomes sharper when viewed through the lens of inequality in access to quality treatment. While wealthier patients often access these through reputed institutions and trained practitioners, alternative systems frequently fill gaps in public health care, especially in rural areas. In such settings, poorer patients face a greater risk of unqualified healers and questionable treatments.

As alternative medicine expands its role in India, the key questions are how these systems should be regulated, how they can be integrated into the public health care system, and how trust in them can be strengthened.

Holistic health

A central idea running across the alternative medicine systems is the emphasis on personalised treatment and holistic wellbeing. Practitioners say their approach focuses on addressing the root cause of illness rather than merely alleviating symptoms.

In the unani system, diagnosis often centres around assessing a patient’s temperament, or mizaj, and examining the pulse. “We focus a lot on health-promotive procedures and treat the patient as a whole,” says Prof Saiyad Shah Alam, director of the National Institute of Unani Medicine, Bengaluru. Pulse-reading remains one of the system’s distinctive features, adds Abdul Majeed, chairman of Hamdard Laboratories.

Treatment methods vary across systems. While ayurveda, unani and siddha include limited surgical procedures, many therapies rely on herbal medicines, dietary regulation and lifestyle interventions. Naturopathy, for example, emphasises natural therapies such as mud therapy, hydrotherapy, steam therapy, acupuncture and acupressure, alongside dietary changes. “Food itself is a key form of medicine,” says Dr D. Satyanath of the National Institute of Naturopathy, Pune.

Mental health has also emerged as an area of focus. Ayurveda approaches psychological wellbeing through practices aimed at restoring mind-body balance, including yoga, meditation and therapies such as Sattvavajaya Chikitsa and Panchakarma, says Prof Pradeep Kumar Prajapati, director of the All India Institute of Ayurveda, New Delhi.

Many practitioners argue that the use of natural ingredients minimises side effects. Yet questions remain about safety and scientific evidence. Studies have detected heavy metals and steroids in some herbal formulations. “It is a serious issue,” agrees Jadhav.

Even practitioners acknowledge that wider acceptance will depend on stronger evidence. Challenges remain, including the need for large-scale clinical trials and stronger regulatory harmonisation, says Prof G. Senthilvel, director of the National Institute of Siddha in Chennai.

Research & regulation

Even as alternative medicine systems continue to face scepticism, often dismissed by critics as pre-scientific, or even pseudoscience, practitioners say efforts to build scientific evidence are expanding.

Senthilvel says clinical outcomes in siddha are supported not only by centuries of experiential practice but also by a growing number of validation studies by institutes and universities under the ministry of Ayush.

Research infrastructure has expanded in other systems. In unani, institutions such as the Central Council for Research in Unani Medicine and the National Institute of Unani Medicine in Bengaluru conduct clinical studies on conditions ranging from arthritis and asthma to metabolic and lifestyle disorders, says Alam.

Jadhav, too, argues that the scale of research has increased in recent years. He says that while clinical trials were “were very rare” a few years ago, that is now changing. “Under the guidance of Central Council for Research in Ayurvedic Sciences, we conduct trials on any new discovery or research made by any company. We have implemented Ayush Research Management Information System. We have thousands of peer-reviewed papers now,” he says.

Some practitioners acknowledge that traditional knowledge alone is no longer sufficient for wider acceptance. “We cannot say that since sowa rigpa is a traditional knowledge system, it should automatically be respected. It has to meet scientific parameters as well,” says Dr Padma Gurmet, director of the National Institute of Sowa Rigpa in Leh, adding that collaborations are underway with institutions such as the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research, Indian Council of Medical Research and the National Institute of Pharmaceutical Education and Research.

However, gaps remain. One of the most frequently cited issues is the lack of uniform treatment protocols across some systems.

“Homeopathy does not yet have a standard recognised protocol for treatment for every disease. We are developing that right now,” says Dr Pralay Sharma, director of the National Institute of Homeopathy, Kolkata.

Regulation of medicines presents another challenge. Concerns around quality, adulteration and inconsistent manufacturing standards continue to surface. Here, Jadhav points out that steps are being undertaken to ensure safety and closer monitoring of manufacturers.

The issue of steroids in herbal medicines has continued to draw scrutiny. On this, the minister says a centralised online portal has been created for consumers to report complaints.

While quality control remains a challenge, experts also point to the easy availability of many such medicines over the counter and through online platforms. “The problem isn’t regulation itself, but our failure to follow it,” says Majeed.

Another concern is the prevalence of unqualified or self-styled practitioners who continue to pose risks to public health. “It is a serious concern,” says Prajapati. Stronger regulation and stricter enforcement of existing laws are necessary to curb such practices, he says, adding that public awareness about choosing licensed practitioners is equally important.

Social media has further complicated the problem, becoming a space where unverified claims and misinformation about alternative medicines spread rapidly. “People should rely on recognised institutions, government platforms, peer-reviewed journals and consultations with qualified practitioners,” says Prajapati. “Institutions must also actively engage on social media to counter misinformation with accurate, evidence-based content. Silence from credible voices allows misinformation to grow.”

For many practitioners, stronger scientific validation is also key to the global acceptance of alternative medicine systems. “That’s the only way these systems will be accepted outside India,” says Majeed. “To reach younger generations as well, we need to present them as modern systems of medicine.”

Budgetary push

Meanwhile, the Union government continues to put its weight behind the Ayush systems.

In the latest Union Budget, the ministry’s allocation rose by nearly 20 per cent, from Rs3,671.82 crore in revised estimates for FY 2025–2026 to Rs4,408.93 crore for FY 2026–27. Funding for the National Ayush Mission saw an even sharper increase, rising by more than 66 per cent from Rs780.96 crore to Rs1,300 crore.

The government has also announced the establishment of three new All India Institutes of Ayurveda, aimed at strengthening research and training, along with upgrades to Ayush pharmacies and drug-testing laboratories. Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman further announced plans to upgrade the WHO Global Traditional Medicine Centre to expand evidence-based research, training and awareness on traditional medicine systems.

The way forward is integrated

While widely understood as ‘alternative’ systems of medicine, experts say practitioners know where to draw the line: these systems may offer preventive and palliative care and improve overall quality of life, but serious cases are referred to allopathic doctors.

“Homeopathy cannot replace treatments such as surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy for cancer,” says Sharma. “It is used as a palliative approach that improves quality of life and helps reduce treatment-related side effects such as nausea.”

Hence, experts believe that an integrated approach is the way forward.

“While ayurveda is a complete and independent system of medicine on its own, it can complement allopathic medicine, especially when it comes to chronic diseases, lifestyle disorders, noncommunicable diseases, rehabilitation and wellness,” says Prajapati. “An integrative approach, where both systems respect each other’s strengths and limitations, can lead to better patient outcomes.”

Majeed believes the systems work best when seen as complementary rather than competing. “In acute situations, the patient must be admitted to hospital,” he says. “But after treatment, the rejuvenation phase can be supported by systems like unani and ayurveda.”

The government, too, is increasingly pushing for such integration. “Our vision in not alternative but integrative,” says Jadhav.

Some states have moved faster than others. In Kerala and Tamil Nadu, where Ayush systems were integrated into primary health care earlier, the minister says results have been encouraging in the management of noncommunicable diseases.

In Ladakh, Gurmet points out, around 80 sowa rigpa practitioners have been placed at different primary health centres. “The same has since been adopted in states such as Sikkim, Arunachal Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh, though the numbers are lower due to a shortage of graduates,” he says.

According to the World Health Organization, around 40 per cent of pharmaceutical products today are derived from natural sources and traditional knowledge systems. This includes widely used drugs such as aspirin. Some traditional practices such as exposing babies with jaundice to sunlight, too, have since been supported by scientific research. These instances showcase benefits of an integrated approach.

“We have no competition with allopathy, and allopathy has no competition with us,” says the Union Ayush minister. “We are working together.”

legacy-of-organic-healing-the-story-of-national-institute-of-naturopathy-in-pune

Sat Mar 21 17:05:18 IST 2026

THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE of Naturopathy (NIN) in Pune has humble origins. Spread across 1.6 acres at Tadiwala road, the NIN had its beginnings in a bungalow, from where eminent naturopath Dr Dinshaw Mehta ran a small clinic since pre-independence days. Originally known as Nature Cure Clinic and Sanatorium, Mehta’s clinic saw many visitors, one among whom was Mahatma Gandhi. Gandhi is said to have stayed at the clinic for more than 150 days in 1944. The bungalow was later named as Bapu Bhavan and is now a heritage structure. The NIN came into being in 1989, and its outpatient department is named ‘Dadaji’ Dr Dinshaw Mehta OPD.

“As the treatments here became popular and patients increased, the government of India procured land from the government of Maharashtra in 2014 and the current campus—Nisarg Gram—was constructed,” said Dr D. Satyanath, director of NIN.

The NIN has three main units—a 250-bed hospital, an academic block for naturopathy courses like graduate and postgraduate programmes in naturopathy and yogic sciences affiliated to the Maharashtra University of Health Science, and the OPD. “At present, we have students from 30 colleges as interns,” said Satyanath. NIN also runs fellowship programmes on Gandhian philosophy and certificate courses in fitness training, hydro, chromo, mud and ozone therapy. The institute also offers a certificate programme in mind-body wellness and another in natural lifestyle and natural cooking.

“When patients are here, they get only two meals a day,” said Satyanath. “The human body does not need three meals. So patients here get their first meal at 10.30am, which is a brunch, and the second meal is given before sunset.”

When a patient has more than two meals a day, naturopathy recommends fasting. “Gandhiji underwent 21 days fast under the supervision of Dr Mehta and actually gained weight,” said Satyanath. “He said he would live for 120 years. Now science is recognising the benefits of fasting.”

Satyanath added that the food is the main medicine along with the other therapies. “We don’t give any drugs, only natural elements,” said Satyanath.

NIN runs a Nisarga Arogya Sadhana Kendra along with Maharashtra government’s tribal welfare department at Gohe village in Pune’s Ambegaon taluka. This facility has a 20-bed hospital and also trains tribal children in naturopathy.

our-vision-is-not-alternative-but-integrative-medicine-prataprao-jadhav

Sat Mar 21 17:04:34 IST 2026

Interview/ Prataprao Jadhav, minister of state, ministry of Ayush

Q/ What is the ministry’s vision for integrating ayurveda, yoga and naturopathy with India’s public health?

All these Ayush departments are our ancient treatment methods, our ancient medicines. Our sages and saints discovered ayurveda and yoga almost 5,000 years ago after intense meditation and practice. They wrote major texts on them, which are still used in ayurveda today. Work continues on them.

So, these methods should be popularised and spread across the world. They are preventive and curative. The world should benefit from this. This is also the vision of our prime minister, and under his guidance, our ministry is working to take this across the world.

Our vision is not alternative but integrative medicine. As per our prime minister’s one nation, one health vision, we want to make Ayush the main pillar of our public health. A patient should get what is best for him. We are linking all these pathways into the National Health Grid so that Ayush is present from prevention to treatment.

Q/ Has Ayush reached every district?

So far, we have established about 12,000 Ayushman Arogya Mandirs in villages across the country. And that number can still increase. We have started our integrated services in primary health centres (PHCs), community health centres (CHCs), sub-district hospitals and district hospitals. We are opening Ayush departments in all the AIIMS.

Q/ The biggest criticism of ayurveda and homoeopathy is that issues like quality and adulteration can arise. How do you plan to ensure quality?

Quality is non-negotiable for us. We have adopted a one herb, one standard policy. We have started many research initiatives to standardise them and ensure their safety. Research on this used to be less in the past. Through the WHO [Global Traditional Medicine] Centre that has opened in Jamnagar, our efforts to standardise this are underway. We have strengthened the Pharmacopoeia Commission for Indian Medicine & Homoeopathy so that our labs are of global standards. We are also promoting Ayush mark through Bureau of Indian Standards. Strict quality standards are being implemented so that patients can have trust in Ayush medicine.

Q/ Many companies manufacture Ayush drugs. Does the ministry audit these?

Absolutely. We have implemented Ayush Oushadhi Gunvatta Evam Utpadan Samvardhan Yojana. Samples of medicines manufactured by these companies are checked by labs. The Ayush department inspects all aspects to ensure that people receive good, standard quality medicine. We are focusing not just on penalty but capacity building as well. Our message is clear: if you want to remain relevant in the global market, then quality cannot be compromised.

Q/ Steroids are always found in herbal formulas. Many misleading claims are also being made. How does the ministry tackle this?

It is a serious issue. We have made a centralised online portal where people can register their complaints. Steroids are not allowed in our medicines. Our pharmacovigilance programme is very active. Whenever such incorrect substances are found in a sample or claims of magical remedies are made to sell steroid-based herbal medicine, strict action is taken against those people.

Q/ Critics say that clinical trials for Ayush medicines are lacking.

We welcome criticism, but the reality is changing. Till a few years ago, clinical trials were very rare in Ayush medicines. But we have significantly expanded its scope now. Under the guidance of our Central Council for Research in Ayurvedic Sciences (CCRAS), we conduct trials on any new discovery or research made by any company. We have implemented Ayush Research Management Information System. We have thousands of peer-reviewed papers now. We are generating molecular-level evidence in labs and not just relying on old texts.

Q/ Does the Ayush department conduct joint research with the Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR) or the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS)?

Yes… we have signed a historic agreement with ICMR. We are doing joint clinical trials on illnesses like cancer and diabetes. For the first time in history, ayurveda experts and doctors of AIIMS are conducting joint research so that we can provide strong data and evidence to the world.

Q/ What is the ministry doing to expand the Ayush reach in districts and PHCs?

Our prime minister has repeatedly said that all health services should be integrated. We have no competition with allopathy, and allopathy has no competition with us. We are working together.

If we look at Ayush, there are good medicines and good treatments for many major diseases, and relief from ailments is increasing. The only thing our ministry needs to do now is to increase people’s trust. What we see today across the country is that if a disease is detected, people go for allopathy treatment first. Many patients come for ayurveda treatment after getting allopathy treatment and when there are not many options left. So, the patients who come for ayurveda arrive at the third or fourth stage. We want them to start ayurveda from the first stage, or better, not have them reach the first stage. They should adopt ayurveda, yoga treatments so that cancer or any other major illness does not occur. As I said earlier, it is preventive. We are also working on diet and lifestyle.

Our roadmap to reach out to PHCs is that of co-location. In states like Kerala and Tamil Nadu where Ayush was integrated at PHC level much earlier, we are getting good results in treating noncommunicable diseases. We are expanding this at the national level. Our goal is to have an Ayush wing in every district hospital.

Q/ Do Ayush medicines treat chronic problems like diabetes, arthritis or polycystic ovarian disease in women?

For almost all existing diseases, we have medicines in Ayush, and people use them. We have seen that since Covid-19, people’s trust in Ayush treatments and medicines has increased a bit, and our efforts to increase it are continuing. We have treatments to prevent the disease from happening. If it does happen, there are treatments to cure it, and the treatments done in ayurveda attempt to remove the disease from the root. Ayush medicines and treatment do not merely offer relief.

Q/ What is being done to upgrade Ayush curriculum? Is it possible for an Ayush doctor to integrate his system with that of modern diagnostics and modern medicine?

We are creating a bridge. New curriculum has modern anatomy, pathology and diagnostic in much more depth. We are teaching students how to corelate nadi pariksha or pulse diagnosis with MRI and blood reports so that [their diagnosis] will be rooted in their science but will have a modern scientific approach.

The Maharashtra government has introduced a six-month course [for Ayush doctors]. Their internship is also conducted in PHCs and CHCs for one year. The state government has also given them permission to practise allopathy within certain limited parameters.

Q/ But the medical association in Maharashtra has opposed it.

The opposition existed for a long time, but now it has decreased. The state government has given permission to ayurveda doctors and recently to homoeopathy doctors to practise limited allopathy.

Q/ What is the ministry doing for the global reach of Ayush products?

When our medicine or product goes abroad, people demand evidence. They ask for research. So, we have to provide proof. Previously, research and medical trials were less common. Our medicines often went abroad categorised mostly as supplementary food. The WHO is currently researching and verifying the authenticity, proven efficacy and strength of our medicines. Moving forward, many of our medicines will reach the global level as actual medicines. We are working on understanding their conditions and how we can take steps to introduce our medicines there, as these medicines are good and have no side effects. The ministry is making full efforts here so that patients across the world can benefit from this.

We have also formed Ayush Export Promotion Council. We are sending products to more than 150 countries. Our strategy is regulatory harmonisation. We are training our manufacturing sector to follow US FDA and European Union standards. We are promoting medical tourism through Ayush visa and bringing patients from abroad to India.

Q/ What is the ministry doing so that Ayush gets scientific credibility abroad, like yoga has?

Yoga has opened the door. Now ayurveda, naturopathy and siddha are going global. Other branches, too, will progress. We are establishing Ayush Academic Chairs in foreign universities. We are doing clinical trials with the help of local regulatory bodies. When Stanford or Harvard publishes ayurvedic research, then the global outlook changes. We are working towards that goal.

Q/ Not all Ayush treatments receive insurance coverage. How can this be improved?

Currently, some of our Ayush packages are covered by insurance, and some are also available in the Central Government Health Scheme. The Insurance Regulatory & Development Authority of India has given clear directives to insurance companies to cover Ayush medicine as well. This is a big victory. And we are making efforts to include our packages in the Ayushman Bharat Pradhan Mantri Jan Arogya Yojana. Many meetings between officials from our health department and Ayush department have taken place. The goal is that the Rs5 lakh insurance coverage should be available to Ayush hospitals and patients receiving Ayush treatment.

Q/ What reforms do you want to bring about in Ayush?

Our ministry is new. Unfortunately, no previous government paid attention to it. Before that, outsiders who came and ruled us also tried to suppress our traditional methods. They tried to impose their system on us. But since 2014, we have been working a lot on this.

If we want to expand Ayush far and wide, we first need to supply medicines everywhere. Earlier, the doctors, be it ayurveda, unani or homoeopathy, would make the medicines themselves. Now, the new generation of doctors don’t put in that much effort. That is why we insist on an Ayush Oushadhi Kendra in every village. All branded ayurveda, homoeopathy, unani and siddha medicines should be kept there. Raw materials should also be kept. In ayurveda, many of our treatments are home remedies. Raw material is needed for that. Currently, general stores keep it, but there is no guarantee of its purity. Our effort is to establish Oushadhi Kendras on a public-private partnership mode.

Digitisation and data are our priority. We will implement Ayush Grid all over India so that patients’ data is available. Another priority is to link farmers with Ayush ministry. Our traditional medicine is closely linked to healthy lifestyle, rural economy and livelihood of farmers. Farming of medicinal herbs has less risk and it is environment friendly. It will increase farmers’ income and create employment opportunities. Planned farming of medicinal herbs and plants is the need of the hour, and Ayush ministry will play a crucial role in this.

unani-is-becoming-popular-as-it-is-based-on-evidence-based-innovation-prof-saiyad-shah-alam

Sat Mar 21 17:03:53 IST 2026

Interview/ Prof Saiyad Shah Alam, director, National Institute of Unani Medicine, Bengaluru

Q/ How did the unani system of medicine originate?

The history of the unani system of medicine can be traced back to Greece. It is around 5,000 years old. The first interaction of unani medicine with the prevailing medicine in India is noted with Alexander’s invasion in 326 BCE. From Greece, it travelled to Eurasia, including Turkey, Iran and Arabia. In India, it was formally introduced from 12th century. Our system of medicine was given the name ‘unani tibb (medicine)’ by Indian scholar Shah Waliullah Dehlvi in the 18th century. After the British established their rule in India, they introduced allopathic medicine. However, one needs to understand that each pathy has a unique beauty and certain limitations as well. In the unani system, we focus a lot on health-promotive procedures and treat the patient and his/her disease as one bio-socio-spiritual unit. The treatment depends a lot on the temperament of the body, medicine and severity of the disease assessed by the parameters that enumerate derangement in four humours—dam (blood), balgham (phlegm), safra (bile), and souda (black bile). Health promotion is achieved by modulating the six pre-requisite essentials (asbab sitta zaruria) of ambient air, food and drinks, movement and repose of body, movement and repose of mind, sleep and wakefulness and evacuation and retention of necessary constituents of the body.

Q/ What types of diseases are usually treated by unani?

Unani medical literature mentions the treatment of most prevailing diseases. Presently, we focus on noncommunicable diseases and diseases that have epidemic dimensions. Its strategy for treatment has an allowance to treat emerging diseases, as it views the disease as a pattern reflecting deranged humour or mizaj. Unani has treatment for different types of ailments such as liver diseases, skin diseases, sexually transmitted diseases, neurological disorders. We are also screening cancer ailments and providing possible palliative treatment. Unani is very cost-effective, and the drugs are easily available. For instance, the treatment for diabetic foot is very expensive and different in the allopathic system of medicine. Compared to this, in Unani, there are many formulations and treatment modes that manage it locally.

Q/ Do unani medicines have any advantage over allopathic systems? Are there any side effects?

A majority of the drugs in unani are derived from plant and herbal sources. Isolated phytochemicals are not used, unlike in English medicines. No drug in any medicine system can be claimed to be absolutely safe. However, in unani, drugs of first and second degree are considered safe.

Similarly, food may have a different effect on different people. One may be allergic to one type of food. So, a few medicines may not suit some people at times. Eighty per cent of drugs are plant-based, and most of our medicines are easily available.

Q/ Any precautions one needs to take while taking unani drugs?

In our system of medicine, things such as proper dosage, timing and with what to take it—whether it is with normal water, warm water, hot milk, cold milk—or drugs before or after food are very important aspects. If such aspects are not taken into consideration, the drugs may not show their full effect and may not help the patient fully.

Q/ What kind of surgery options are available in unani?

Most surgery options are limited to general surgery, and they focus mainly on skin tumours, piles, fistula and gallbladder issues. We do not have advanced, invasive kinds of surgeries that need high-end technology, such as heart surgeries, brain surgeries or cancer surgeries.

Q/ How has the popularity of unani grown over the years?

This system has grown and expanded in India, particularly in north India. It has grown in popularity in Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Bangladesh, South Africa, the UAE, Iran, Uzbekistan and Turkey. We have students from different countries who are pursuing postgraduation at our institute. In the last 20 years, we have published more than 1,000 publications in the form of original indexed papers and books.

Q/ Despite being in India for so long, unani is yet to gain mass adoption compared to the allopathic system.

Unani is becoming increasingly popular, as it is based on evidence-based innovation, which requires more time. Validation of the body temperament is required to diagnose any ailment. Skin treatments in unani have gained significant popularity. In addition, treatment for prostate enlargement, asthma and other respiratory diseases and gastrointestinal tract problems, neurological and psychiatric disorders are gaining popularity in the unani system.

Unani medicine has unique procedures… for health promotion and wellness. Among more than 20 procedures, hijama (cupping), irsal alq (leeching) and dalak (massage) are globally practised now.

Q/ What kind of initiatives has the Ayush ministry taken to popularise unani?

Initiatives by the ministry of Ayush to promote and popularise unani include the establishment of key institutions such as: Central Council for Research in Unani Medicine (CCRUM), which is the apex research body for Unani medicine, and the National Institute of Unani Medicine (NIUM), Bengaluru, an autonomous institute for postgraduate teaching, training and research in unani medicine. A satellite campus of NIUM has been set up in Ghaziabad, inaugurated by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, to expand access to clinical services and training.

Both CCRUM and NIUM conduct clinical research on various health conditions (arthritis, asthma, metabolic disorders, skin diseases, lifestyle diseases, mental health issues) to build evidence for unani therapies.

New central initiatives to expand unani institutes and infrastructure include supporting Centre of Excellence projects, which help build advanced research infrastructure and training facilities for unani practitioners. The Ayush ministry has also collaborated with the World Health Organization for the global reach of traditional systems, including unani. NIUM has signed MoUs with national research entities and universities (such as the Indian Council of Medical Research) as implementation of the central initiative to expand scientific research collaboration and innovation in unani medicine.

beyond-herbs-how-siddha-medicine-is-transforming-lives

Sat Mar 21 17:03:16 IST 2026

IT IS DAWN on a Sunday, and a yawn seldom escapes from the bunch of men and women, some accompanied by children, making a beeline for the sprawling National Institute of Siddha (NIS) at Tambaram Sanatorium in Chennai. The guard at the gate directs them to the buildings, surrounded by neem and tamarind trees, that house the inpatient and outpatient departments. Among that motley bunch is Murugan, 56, and his friend Vinayagamoorthy, 48. They are at the NIS for their varicose ulcer treatment. Vinayagamoorthy, who runs a grocery store at Thiruninravur, a locality off Chennai, was unable to walk even 100m a few months after his open heart surgery. A wound on his right leg slowly turned black, and his legs began swelling, affecting his mobility. That is when Murugan suggested NIS. He was speaking from experience. He has been undergoing treatment for varicose ulcer for the past four years and has found relief. It has been a few weeks since Vinayagamoorthy started treatment and he, too, can feel the difference. He visits NIS once a week for wound dressing, mostly on Sundays. “We cannot afford allopathy treatment. Siddha is natural. Even if the results are slow, there are no side effects,” says Murugan.

The 220-bed Ayothidoss Pandithar hospital, attached to the NIS, goes beyond herbs, powders and potions. While the internal treatments are a cornerstone of the siddha system, they represent only half of a sophisticated medical equation, says Dr M.V. Mahadevan, professor and head of external therapy. He says the true depth of siddha lies in a dual-track approach to healing that most modern treatments overlook.

The siddha way of treatment has 32 types of internal medicines and 32 types of external therapies. While the external therapies are often treated as limited adjuncts or guarded family secrets, the establishment of the NIS has catalysed a monumental shift in the way the treatment is offered, according to Dr G. Senthilvel, director of NIS. What were once “very limited” applications have become extensive, standardised hospital protocols. The NIS has about 80 doctors and more than 150 supporting staff, including specialised therapists and nurses.

And at the heart of treatment in siddha medicine are external interventions called varma—the science of stimulating vital points. There are 108 such points across the human body, and their clinical application is remarkably broad, spanning from migraines and cervical spondylosis to periarthritis (frozen shoulder).

Other popular treatments include thokkanam—massage to release tension and improve circulation; ottradam—fomentation using heat or medicated bundles, patru—application of herbal pastes to reduce inflammation and enhance the curing rate in conditions like lumbar and cervical spondylosis; ennai kattu—pooling of medicated oils on specific areas to manage acute pain and inflammatory conditions; and steam therapy to conclude the treatment and enhance the body’s receptivity.

While these treatments come under the art of physical manipulation, the most surprising aspect of siddha is its reach through heat and chemical interventions. Suttigai, also known as agni karma (heat cautery), involves the application of targeted heat to treat abnormal growths like warts or as a potent last resort for chronic pain. The system also employs kshara sutra (chemical cauterisation) for anorectal conditions. This involves the use of medicated threads to manage piles and fissures.

The external therapy department handles bone setting for simple fractures and dislocations. Mahadevan says that a rigorous ethical stance is followed regarding the limits of siddha. If a stroke or paralysis patient is in the acute phase, they are referred to allopathy to ensure the best immediate outcome. Siddha then manages the recovery phase, typically 15 days to a month after the event.

Senthilvel, meanwhile, maintains that “the world of siddha external therapies is an expanding frontier of ancient technology that challenges our modern reliance on pills. By integrating physical manipulation, chemical cautery, vital point stimulation and biological tools, siddha offers a comprehensive toolkit for health that addresses the root of chronic pain and lifestyle diseases”.

siddhas-effectiveness-is-in-individualised-treatment-dr-g-senthilvel

Sat Mar 21 17:01:54 IST 2026

Interview/ Dr G. Senthilvel, director, National Institute of Siddha, Chennai

Q/ How effective is siddha medicine?

Siddha medicine is considered effective particularly in the management of chronic diseases, lifestyle disorders, metabolic conditions, dermatological disorders, musculoskeletal ailments and respiratory diseases. Its effectiveness lies in its individualised treatment approach, emphasis on correcting humoral imbalance, detoxification procedures, dietary regulation and rejuvenation therapies. Clinical outcomes are supported by centuries of experiential evidence and an increasing number of scientific validation studies conducted by Ayush institutions and universities.

Q/ What is stopping siddha from becoming more acceptable in India and abroad?

Several challenges affect wider acceptance: limited large-scale clinical trials; lack of standardised documentation in international formats; inadequate global awareness; need for stronger regulatory harmonisation; and insufficient infrastructure for international outreach. However, government initiatives under the ministry of Ayush, digital documentation and research integration are improving acceptance.

Q/ Does siddha have treatment for viral diseases, Covid-19, cancer, prostate enlargement, asthma, heart and brain problems?

Yes, siddha has supportive and disease-specific protocols for viral diseases and Covid-19 (immunity enhancement, symptom management); cancer (adjuvant care, symptom relief, immune modulation); prostate enlargement; asthma and respiratory diseases; cardiac disorders and neurological disorders such as stroke, epilepsy and neuropathy. Siddha often works as primary care for chronic conditions and supportive care alongside modern medicine.

Q/ Does siddha have treatment for mental illnesses?

Yes. Siddha recognises mental health under ‘Mano Noi’ and treats conditions such as anxiety disorders, depression, insomnia, psychosomatic disorders and stress-related illnesses. Treatment includes herbal medicines, meditation, breathing practices, lifestyle regulation and spiritual therapy.

Q/ How did the siddha system of medicine originate?

Siddha originated in ancient Tamil civilisation and was developed by enlightened sages known as Siddhars. It evolved through spiritual practice, alchemy, yogic science and empirical observation. Classical texts such as writings by Agathiyar, Thirumoolar and Bogar laid the foundation. The system integrates medicine, philosophy, chemistry, yoga and cosmology.

from-chronic-ailments-to-palliative-care-the-expanding-role-of-homoeopathy

Sat Mar 21 17:01:13 IST 2026

THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE of Homoeopathy (NIH) in Kolkata has seen a steady patient footfall. In the last five years, homoeopathy has seen a marked rise in India, thanks to the focus and funding from the Union government.

“Homoeopathy is a recognised system of medicine under the ministry of Ayush, with more than two centuries of clinical practice worldwide,” said Dr Pralay Sharma, director of NIH. “Its effectiveness may be viewed across three key dimensions—clinical outcomes, public health relevance and patient’s acceptability, with homoeopathy showing consistent effectiveness in the management of chronic, functional and psychosomatic disorders.”

These include allergic diseases, skin disorders, musculoskeletal complaints, gastrointestinal disturbances, anxiety-related conditions and certain lifestyle disorders. In more serious diseases like cancer, homoeopathy does not replace treatment like surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy. Homoeopathy is used as a palliative approach and improves quality of life, reduces treatment-related side effects like nausea and provides symptomatic support in terminal cancer cases. “Myocardial infarction and left ventricular failure, too, cannot be treated with homoeopathy and people in that stage do not depend on homoeopathy medicines,” says Sharma.

Homoeopathy is a non-invasive system of medicine. “Its approach is based on self-regulatory and healing properties of the medicine rather than surgical intervention. Homoeopathy treatment does not involve injection and surgical procedure,” clarifies Sharma.

Despite its history, perceptual factors have impacted the global popularity of homoeopathy. It could be because of limited scientific evidence, lack of clinical trials, limited integration of modern research methodologies and over-reliance on past success stories rather than on standardised, evidence-based documents.

Other factors include lack of uniform treatment protocols and outcome reporting. “For every disease, homoeopathy does not have a standard, recognised, regulated protocol for treatment,” says Sharma. “We are developing that right now. Inconsistent adherence to the homoeopathy system is another factor. There are also education and faculty constraints, including inadequate research and infrastructure.”

what-kerala-needs-today-shashi-tharoor-shares-his-vision-with-the-week

Sat Mar 14 12:29:07 IST 2026

In the humid August of 1741, the white sands of Colachel witnessed a sight that would shatter the prevailing geopolitical order of the Indian Ocean. The Dutch East India Company, then the world’s most formidable corporate-military machine, faced a humiliating defeat at the hands of Marthanda Varma, the young raja of the tiny principality of Travancore. It was the first time an Asian power had decisively routed a European navy in a pitched battle.

But the true significance of Colachel lay not in the smoke of the musketry or the surrender of the Dutch commander, Admiral Eustachius De Lannoy. It lay in what the victory enabled. Marthanda Varma did not merely win a war; he used the victory to execute a ruthless, structural rupture of Kerala’s stagnant socioeconomic fabric, providing a historical blueprint for the kind of radical reconfiguration the state desperately requires today.

Before Colachel, the southernmost Indian state was a patchwork of fragmented interests. Real power was held by the Ettuveetil Pillamar (the Eight Lords) and temple committees who operated as feudal veto players, stymieing any attempt to build a central coordinating authority. Trade was equally compromised, with European companies dictating terms to local producers, keeping prices low through lopsided treaties while domestic elites siphoned off the remaining surplus. It was a “low-equilibrium trap” where stability was maintained at the cost of progress. Marthanda Varma recognised that for Travancore to survive the predatory colonial era, he could not simply tweak the existing system; he had to dismantle it.

His response was a blood-and-iron policy of action. He didn’t just defeat the Dutch; he co-opted their expertise, employing the captured De Lannoy to modernise his military. More crucially, he broke the back of the feudal aristocracy, eliminating the lords who had paralysed the state for generations. This political rupture—the Ettuveetil Pillamar were executed and their homes destroyed—was immediately followed by an economic one: the creation of a royal monopoly on pepper and other spices. By declaring that the state (and only his state) would control the trade of ‘Black Gold’, Marthanda Varma bypassed middlemen and foreign agents alike. He turned Travancore into a mercantile state, using the profits to build roads, canals and a professional bureaucracy. This was the original ‘Travancore Model’, and it transformed a minor chiefdom into the most prosperous and socially advanced kingdom in the region. Thus, Marthanda Varma created an effective, centralised, mercantile state that could hold its own on the global stage.

The parallels to contemporary Kerala are as striking as they are sobering. Today, Kerala finds itself in a new kind of stagnation trap. We pride ourselves on the ‘Kerala Model’ of development: our world-class human development indicators, our literacy and our health care. Yet, this model has hit a fiscal and structural ceiling. We have created a highly educated populace but have failed to build an economy that can employ them. Like the 18th-century Pillamar, modern Kerala is bogged down by entrenched interest groups—militant trade unionism, a bloated and often obstructive bureaucracy weighed down by over-regulation and a political culture that views private capital with a suspicion bordering on hostility. We are a state that survives on “remittance economy”, exporting our greatest resource—human talent—because we cannot offer them a productive future at home.

Just as Marthanda Varma realised that feudal control was the enemy of effective sovereignty, we must realise that our current welfare-only model, devoid of industrial and technological growth, and unsupported by adequate investment, is a path to irrelevance. The state’s debt is mounting, and our youth are voting with their feet, leading to a brain-drain that threatens the very social fabric we seek to protect. The lesson of Colachel is that social gains cannot be sustained without a muscular, modern economic engine.

We are currently at a historical inflection point similar to the one Marthanda Varma faced three centuries ago. The world is changing; the global economy is shifting towards high-tech manufacturing, green energy, AI and the blue economy. Yet, our internal structures remain geared toward a 20th-century redistributive logic that treats wealth creation as a secondary, or even suspicious, endeavour.

As in the 1740s, the signs of distress are unmistakable—and so is the possibility of decisive change. For too long, we have watched the slow unravelling of a state once hailed as a model of human development. Mounting debt, ecological collapse, fiscal disarray and a governance culture that (when it is not choking in revelations of corruption) all too often drifts between bankrupt inertia and partisan improvisation, have become our new reality. Amid the gloom, I refuse to succumb to cynicism. I believe Kerala can rise again, if we summon up the courage to confront hard truths and embrace bold reforms.

What Kerala needs today is a ‘Colachel Moment’—a decisive break from the politics of obstructionism. We need a rupture that replaces the veto-culture in which we are mired with a “can-do” government. This doesn’t mean abandoning our social commitments; Marthanda Varma, after all, dedicated his kingdom to Sree Padmanabha, creating a moral contract between the state and its people. Rather, it means understanding that true social justice in the 21st century is the provision of high-quality opportunities for our youth within our own borders.

We see the stirrings of this change in projects like the Vizhinjam Port or the burgeoning startup ecosystem in Thiruvananthapuram and Kochi. But these remain islands of progress in a sea of red tape. To truly honour the legacy of Marthanda Varma, we must be as bold as he was. We must be willing to dismantle the “feudal lords” of our time—the restrictive regulations and the mindset that privileges the status quo over the future. We must integrate Kerala into the global supply chain on our own terms, attracting investment and retaining our educated workforce as Varma leveraged his pepper monopoly.

The victory at Colachel was not just a military feat; it was a psychological one. It proved that a small state, through vision and discipline, could defy the threat of the giants of its age. Today’s threats are the global competition for investment, the challenges of an ageing population and the need for sustainable growth. If we continue to cling to the old way of doing things, we risk becoming a museum of past successes. If, however, we embrace the spirit of the rupture, daring to modernise our economy as radically as we once modernised our society, we can ensure that Kerala remains not just a model of how to spend wealth, but a beacon of how to create it. The white sands of our coast are waiting for a new generation of leaders to realise that the greatest tribute to our history is the courage to change it.

This is not merely a policy prescription; it is a call to action for a ‘Kerala 2.0’ that honours the legacy of Marthanda Varma by daring to break the structures that no longer serve us.

The numbers tell a sobering story. Kerala’s debt has ballooned to unsustainable levels, driven not by strategic investment but by a pattern of borrowing to plug routine deficits, even towards the end of the year to pay salaries and pensions. Today, the state spends more on debt servicing than on development projects. The state’s reliance on remittances, liquor taxes and lotteries has become a substitute for sound fiscal planning. Furthermore, inefficiencies in tax collection and GST leakages continue to erode our revenue base, while the lack of jobs and record levels of youth unemployment drive our brightest minds to other states or abroad.

But the crisis is also moral. We have allowed a culture of entitlement to take root, where subsidies are expected, accountability is evaded and the dignity of labour is too often distorted into coercion. The Malayali work ethic—a source of pride outside Kerala—has been dulled within the state by years of political patronage and bureaucratic complacency. We have failed to abolish extortion-based labour practices such as nokkukooli, ban the invidious coercion of hartals and rediscover the nobility of enterprise and the joy of creating rather than merely consuming.

The state’s renewal must begin with governance. Kerala needs a government that listens, learns and leads, not one that merely protects and promotes its own cadres. We must restore institutional integrity, empower local bodies and ensure that public servants serve the public, not party interests. Transparency must be more than a slogan; it must be a daily practice in everything from procurement to appointments.

Equally urgent is the need to dismantle the thicket of over-regulation that chokes enterprise. We have all learned painfully how well-meaning rules often become barriers—discouraging investment, delaying approvals and disincentivising initiative. Kerala must move from a culture of control to one of facilitation. We should slash 75 per cent of our stifling regulations and streamline bureaucratic procedures so that files do not take months to be cleared. By simplifying all government approvals under a single-window ‘One Kerala Permit’ system and digitising governance, we can empower citizens to act rather than wait endlessly for decisions.

We must also rethink our economic model. Kerala cannot thrive on the three Rs of remittances, (home) renovations and retail alone. We need to nurture industries that reflect our strengths—knowledge, creativity and sustainability—while doubling down on our record in hospitality and health care. This requires a productive rupture with our current complacency, where we invest in green technologies, promote high-tech agro-processing and support startups that seize new opportunities in AI, biotechnology, quantum computing and space tech. High-tech value-added products, precision manufacturing, port-led coastal development and the establishment of supply chains and logistics hubs must be explored to solve 21st century problems. Above all, we must take pride in what we produce, from coir to code, and ensure that ‘Made in Kerala’ becomes a mark of excellence. What India’s most educated workforce produces must set a benchmark for the rest of the country, attracting more investors to come.

We must also support women entrepreneurs with micro-finance and digital training to ensure our growth is inclusive. To fuel this, we should launch a Kerala Savings Mission, encouraging non-resident Indians and the diaspora to invest in state development bonds. To overcome investor reluctance because of our notoriety as a land where ideological politicians, rent-seeking officials and militant trade unions thwart progress and profit, we must provide skittish investors the security of an Investor Protection Act, to assure them that they will not lose their money to non-market problems of a political or a bureaucratic nature.

Education and health have long been Kerala’s crown jewels, but even these are tarnishing. Our schools and colleges must prepare students not just for examinations but for life in the 21st century: for critical thinking, technological innovation, civic engagement and global citizenship. A Higher Education Commission should tap the views of educators, business leaders and students to prepare them with the knowledge and skills to make them employment-ready. Internships should be available even during the academic year to connect students to the real world.

Similarly, our hospitals must be equipped not just with infrastructure but with compassion. The Covid-19 pandemic revealed both our strengths and our vulnerabilities; we must learn from its lessons and build resilient systems that serve all, especially the most vulnerable. We have the capacity to become the health and wellness capital of the country. Tourism, too, must be reimagined as an immersive experience rooted in ecology, culture and community, making Kerala a major centre for medical tourism spanning allopathic, ayurvedic and other forms of holistic healing.

Kerala’s pluralism is its soul. In a time of rising intolerance, we must reaffirm our commitment to coexistence and mutual respect. The legacy of Sree Narayana Guru, St Kuriakose Elias Chavara, Chattambi Swami, Mahatma Ayyankali and Vakkom Moulavi reminds us that true progress lies not in division but in uplift, in daring to challenge established practices and entrenched modes of thinking even as we honour history and heritage. We must teach our children not only empathy and tradition, but also to question and hope.

We cannot neglect immediate problems affecting the quality of life. Kerala must urgently confront three escalating crises: environment, drugs and stray dogs. Our ecology groans under the weight of unchecked quarrying and sand mining; a ‘Clean & Green Kerala Mission 2030’ is overdue. The drug crisis among our youth requires a multipronged approach, from awareness campaigns to effective de-addiction centres. Meanwhile, the stray dog menace, which has taken a deadly turn with troubling fatalities even after vaccination, must be addressed through a vigorous yet humane animal birth control programme.

For too long, Kerala’s political discourse has been trapped in binaries—left versus right, secular versus communal. Yet, the real divide is between cynicism and possibility. I choose possibility. I believe politics can be a noble vocation, rooted in service and guided by principle.

This vision is strictly personal, since the official manifesto of the United Democratic Front is yet to be released. It is shaped by conversations with young people, farmers, teachers, nurses and politicians who want opportunity without leaving home, and elders who want dignity without dependence. To them—and to all Malayalis—I say: the time for passive lament is over. The time for active renewal has come. Let us build a Kerala that is fiscally prudent, ecologically resilient and socially just. Let us move “beyond cynicism” and reclaim the promise of our land with vision, resolve and unity.

Kerala deserves nothing less.

The writer is Lok Sabha member from Thiruvananthapuram.

whose-vision-of-change-will-kerala-voters-embrace-cpim-congress-bjp-promise-new-age

Sat Mar 14 12:28:16 IST 2026

In the early 1980s, long before he became Kerala’s leader of the opposition, V.D. Satheesan entered a political contest almost by chance. A first-year degree student at the time, he was asked by the Congress-affiliated Kerala Students Union to step in as a substitute candidate for the arts club secretary post. The original nominee—a violinist student leader—had failed to appear on nomination day.

The post usually went to artists or musicians. Satheesan’s entry had one rival hosting a celebratory treat in the college canteen, as though the election had already been won.

But, as the campaign progressed, Satheesan began forging an emotional connect with voters through his speeches, often leaving sections of the audience teary-eyed. He also mocked what he described as the violent politics of the CPI(M)-affiliated Students Federation of India, using playful twists on film dialogues. The rhetoric struck a chord. Satheesan won—one of the first victories in a long political career.

Four decades later, the stage is larger but the method looks familiar. Travelling across Kerala with the Congress-led United Democratic Front’s Puthuyuga Yatra ahead of the assembly polls, Satheesan is once again relying on relentless campaigning and carefully-crafted speeches—sometimes emotional, at other times peppered with Gen-Z slang—to build momentum for himself, the Congress and the UDF.

‘Puthuyuga’ literally means a ‘new age’. Yet Satheesan and the UDF are not alone in invoking the promise of the new.

Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan, after a decade in power, is projecting his vision of Nava Keralam (New Kerala) and seeking a third term for the CPI(M)-led Left Democratic Front to realise it. Meanwhile, state BJP president and former Union minister Rajeev Chandrasekhar often repeats his slogan ‘Marathathu ini maarum’—‘that which remained unchanged will now change’.

All three political fronts, in effect, are offering competing visions of a break from the old order. Kerala’s election is not merely about who will govern next, but about whose idea of “change” voters will endorse.

Old ground, evolving turfs

When V. Sivankutty, Kerala’s education minister, was mayor of Thiruvananthapuram, he launched a project titled ‘Goodbye Mosquito’ to tackle the city’s mosquito menace. The programme was inaugurated by CPI(M) stalwart and then chief minister E.K. Nayanar. During his speech, Nayanar turned to Sivankutty and quipped: “Will the mosquito understand our language? Will it understand ‘goodbye’?”

As Kerala heads towards the polls, a similar question hangs over the political class: will voters understand—or believe—the language of change now spoken by all sides?

According to political observer Mohan Varghese, the idea of change has deep roots in Kerala’s history. The state has long absorbed ideas, people, institutions and processes from outside. “Kerala has been a melting pot for centuries,” he said. “Arabs, Jews, Romans and Chinese traders came here, bringing their ideas, currency and gold while taking away spices. In the process, they also shaped Kerala’s language, religion and culture, and helped nurture the state’s transformative mindset.”

Migration has long been part of this outward-looking history, with remittances playing a key role in development. But today’s migration trends also reflect the growing unease among the youth. Students account for more than 11 per cent of Kerala’s emigrants. Between 2018 and 2023, student migration nearly doubled—from 1,29,763 to roughly 2,50,000.

“Many among Gen Z and Gen Alpha feel there is no real future within the state,” Varghese said. “They believe they deserve better opportunities.”

Younger voters, he said, were increasingly sceptical about political institutions because of allegations of corruption, nepotism and political violence. “So, even though Kerala is considered politically literate, a certain inertia is setting in,” he said. “People want change.”

With an aspirational middle class and rapid urbanisation reshaping the state, all political fronts have been compelled to present their own vision of change. Development has become the dominant electoral language, with even parties driven by hardcore ideologies speaking it.

Kerala’s complex demographic composition also shapes politics. The population is 54 per cent Hindu, 26 per cent Muslim, and 18.4 per cent Christian. Though social reform movements transformed much of the old order, community identities—Nairs, Ezhavas, dalits, Christian denominations and Muslim groups—continue to influence elections. Shifts in community and demographic equations are pushing parties to add layers to their political narrative of change.

Former Union minister and senior BJP leader V. Muraleedharan told THE WEEK that, besides the party’s vision of ‘Vikasitha Keralam’ (developed Kerala), a key plank is the argument that whichever front comes to power, the Indian Union Muslim League ends up influencing power. This needed to change, he said.

A similar message—that a UDF government effectively means rule by the Muslim League—has also been deployed by the LDF. Varghese said the narrative had gained traction partly because sections of Muslim voters have turned increasingly anti-CPI(M). The party has also accused the UDF of having an understanding with the Jamaat-e-Islami.

UDF convenor Adoor Prakash said both the BJP and the CPI(M) were trying to create a communal divide. “Their positions are identical in this regard,” he told THE WEEK. “The UDF is gaining momentum, which is precisely why such propaganda is being unleashed.”

Nevertheless, the Muslim League, which has for long opposed Islamist organisations, has now adopted a softer stance toward Jamaat-e-Islami. Munavvar Ali Thangal, state Youth League president and member of the Panakkad family that has long led the party, recently said there was “cordial political coordination” with Jamaat-e-Islami despite ideological differences.

Veteran Muslim League leader and historian M.C. Vadakara said the Jamaat-e-Islami, which once supported the CPI(M), has now moved closer to the UDF. “The UDF has made some tactical adjustments with the Welfare Party, the political organisation floated by the Jamaat-e-Islami. That does not mean the Muslim League accepts their ideological positions,” he said.

Satheesan said the Welfare Party had supported the UDF in recent elections. “We accepted that support,” he said. “But they are not a constituent of the UDF.”

Some Hindu community leaders support the narrative of Muslim dominance in the UDF. Vellapally Natesan, general secretary of the Sree Narayana Dharma Paripalana Yogam—an organisation of the Ezhavas, the largest Hindu community in the state—accused Satheesan of “acting like an advocate for the Muslim League”. He said both the BJP at the Centre and the CPI(M) in the state should continue in power. “Only Vijayan is capable of keeping in check the growth of communal parties, at least to some extent,” Natesan said.

Limits of change

Despite the rhetoric of transformation, observers say two structural realities are unlikely to change. First is the nature of electoral competition in Kerala. Political observer Joseph C. Mathew said the 2026 elections will continue the state’s long-standing bipolar contest between the UDF and the LDF. “I see the BJP’s prospects as somewhere between zero and four seats,” he said.

The second question concerned whether political promises of change can translate into policy shifts. Varghese argued that Kerala’s political structure itself often constrains transformation. “The political superstructure is not particularly supportive of large-scale developmental transformation. Populism continues to dominate. The real challenge for future governments is reconciling populist welfare politics with long-term development.”

For nearly a decade, Kerala has been the only state where the CPI(M) has remained in power. The party describes the government as a laboratory for advancing a left democratic alternative within the country’s capitalist framework.

A showcase initiative of the government has been the Extreme Poverty Eradication Programme, launched in 2021. The government identified 64,006 families living in extreme deprivation and implemented micro-plans to improve housing, livelihoods and basic services. Last year, it declared Kerala the first state in India free of extreme multidimensional poverty. Data from the National Family Health Survey show extreme poverty in Kerala declined from 0.7 per cent in NFHS-4 (2015–16) to 0.55 per cent in NFHS-5 (2019–21).

The LDF has been harping on its welfare initiatives—enhanced social security pensions, expanded health insurance and higher payments for scheme workers—alongside infrastructure improvements like national highway expansion, better road connectivity, and the launch of capital-intensive projects such as the Vizhinjam International Seaport.

As the elections approach, the government has launched a slew of welfare measures—adding 28 communities to the SEBC (socially and educationally backward) list, earmarking 14,500 crore to boost social security pensions, and increasing dearness allowance and clearing pending arrears for government employees.

But critics question the sustainability of Kerala’s welfare model. “Nearly one-third of the population now receive some form of direct financial support,” Varghese said. “The question is whether such spending is sustainable when funds for long-term development remain limited.”

Left, right, left

Some observers detect signs of deeper shifts within the state’s left ecosystem. Political commentator K.C. Umesh Babu argued that the CPI(M) government now occupies a pro-corporate development space. “Just because a party branded itself ‘left’ decades ago doesn’t mean it remains left if its policies have shifted,” he says.

The prolonged protest by Kerala’s ASHA workers, who staged a 265-day sit-in outside the secretariat demanding higher wages, also highlighted tensions between the government and grassroots movements. The CPI(M) dismissed the agitation as an anarchic protest.

S. Mini of the Marxist-Leninist party SUCI (Communist), which helped organise the protests, said the government’s response reflected a troubling shift in what is often described as left politics in the state. “The validity of a protest lies in the justice of its demands,” she said. “The ASHA protest showed how those calling themselves ‘left’ have been fooling the people.”

According to Joseph C. Mathew, the ideological space occupied by the left is evolving. He recalled a conversation between activist Medha Patkar and former Kerala chief minister V.S. Achuthanandan when West Bengal’s left government was battling Trinamool Congress leader Mamata Banerjee. “V.S. told her she should stand with the left in West Bengal. Medha replied, ‘But V.S., the real left there now is Mamata.’”

Mathew said a similar situation may be unfolding here. The traditional left, in his view, is losing character. “Some believe the LDF needs shock treatment, while others think this is only a temporary phase,” he said. “But many within the left fold are clearly disillusioned.”

Satheesan has been claiming that the Congress-led UDF now represents the “real left” in Kerala in the Nehruvian sense—socialist, progressive and secular. CPI(M) general secretary M.A. Baby responded by welcoming Satheesan’s appreciation of left values, but argued that the Congress cannot meaningfully be described as left. He said the Congress, like the BJP, had transferred valuable public assets to crony capitalists, while the CPI(M)-led government continued to protect public assets.

Mathew said some leaders within the Congress may not appreciate Satheesan’s projection of the party as the “real left”. According to him, the claim also had a flip side: it could prompt a section of traditionally pro-Congress voters to perceive the CPI(M) as a “better Congress”. Conservatives who once viewed communists as natural enemies, Mathew pointed out, no longer see the CPI(M) as aggressively atheistic or confrontational.

“The CPI(M) is more organised [than the Congress],” he said, “and many groups may feel they can get things done more effectively through that party, just as they once did through the Congress.”

cpim-travelling-on-the-same-path-as-bjp-vd-satheesan

Sat Mar 14 12:27:21 IST 2026

Interview/ V.D. Satheesan, leader of opposition, Kerala

Q/ A narrative used by your political opponents is that if the United Democratic Front (UDF) comes to power, it will essentially be a Muslim League rule. There is also the claim that the UDF is controlled by the Jamaat-e-Islami and that you have “whitewashed” that organisation.

Across states, the BJP is trying to propagate hate campaigns and create religious divisions. Unfortunately, in Kerala, the CPI(M) is travelling on the same path. During the Lok Sabha election, our chief minister [attempted] minority appeasement. That narrative failed because they did not receive minority votes. After the elections, they changed their position and began majority appeasement.

Take the case of Jamaat-e-Islami. We do not have any relationship with Jamaat-e-Islami. There is a political party called the Welfare Party [backed by the organisation]. Jamaat-e-Islami had political proximity with the CPI(M) for the last four decades. At that time, they were considered secular. From 2019 onwards, due to national political developments, the Welfare Party supported the UDF during elections. We accepted that support, nothing more. They are not a constituent of the UDF.

After the UDF’s consecutive loss in 2016 and 2021, the CPI(M) tried to approach the Indian Union Muslim League (IUML). When I took over as leader of the opposition, the morale of our workers was very low because of the defeats. But Muslim League leaders clearly said that there were a thousand reasons to remain with the UDF and not even one reason to go with the LDF.

The IUML has historically held a secular position. One question we always raise is this: if the IUML weakens, who will occupy that space? It will be extremist forces. In reality, the IUML has prevented the entry of extremist forces.

Q/ You have said that the Congress is the real left in Kerala and have described the CPI(M) as moving towards extreme right. Why is it strategically necessary for the Congress to claim the left space in Kerala?

When I say left, I mean the Nehruvian left—a socialist, progressive and secular approach. The left is not owned by any single party.

The CPI(M) in Kerala has taken many positions that are closer to the extreme right. In many ways, they are on the same path as the sangh parivar. Because of that, many left-leaning people who supported the CPI(M) for decades are now unhappy. They believed the party would pursue progressive and socialist policies, but they are now disappointed.

They are supporting us because we have taken a clear secular position in Kerala.

Q/ The Left Democratic Front’s campaign says Kerala needs continuity in governance and claims development will stall if it does not return to power. Your response?

Kerala has already collapsed. Our fiscal position is very vulnerable. The economy is the backbone of a state, and that backbone is weakening. The state’s debt has crossed Rs6 lakh crore. For the past 12 months, Kerala has had the highest price rise in India. The government is unable to conduct market interventions because it owes large amounts to the Civil Supplies Corporation. When you go to public hospitals, medicines are not available because the Medical Services Corporation has huge pending payments.

Higher education is also suffering and ‘brain drain’ is increasing. If this continues for another five years, Kerala may become an old-age society. The agriculture sector is also in poor condition. The government is unable to procure rice, coconut or rubber effectively. Many plantations have closed.

At the same time, the government has huge liabilities towards employees, pensioners and teachers. Backdoor appointments have been happening for the last 10 years, while public service appointments are not happening. In many sectors, the government has failed. In such a situation, how can they ask for a third term?

Q/ The Congress has not officially declared a chief ministerial candidate yet, but the CPI(M) often directs personal attacks at you. Do you see this as a validation of your leadership and a claim to the CM post?

In the Congress there is a procedure for selecting the chief minister. We have not declared anyone as a chief ministerial candidate. After the election, there is a process followed by the high command in every state. The chief minister is selected after discussions with the MLAs and after assessing the situation.

They are focusing on me because, as leader of the opposition, I have been attacking the government both inside and outside the assembly.... I am actually enjoying it. I often say they are doing my PR through their negative campaign.

Q/ Your relationship with community leaders like Sukumaran Nair of the Nair Service Society (NSS) and Vellapally Natesan of the Sree Narayana Dharma Paripalana (SNDP) Yogam often appears confrontational.

Some of them do not like me. They have every right to dislike me. The issue is that we have taken a strong secular stand in Kerala. Whoever propagates communal politics, we will oppose it. That includes both minority communalism and majority communalism.

Personally, I have no problem with leaders of organisations like the NSS or SNDP. But when communal statements are made, we oppose them. That is our stand, and it is a clear secular position.

Q/ The CPI(M) has been running a campaign to remind people what the UDF rule was like 10 years ago. First, there was the website Irunda Kaalam (dark times), followed by a public relations department campaign in newspapers with public money.

There is a Supreme Court verdict regarding government advertisements. The government is violating those directions. You can advertise government programmes, and we are not preventing that. But the department of public relations is giving advertisements against the opposition. That amounts to election campaigning using public funds.

You cannot run an election campaign using money from the exchequer. That is why we are approaching the court with a public interest litigation. The government is violating advertisement rules.

If they want to debate our tenure, we are ready. The previous UDF government started many welfare programmes. Many of them have been stopped by the present government.

partys-opinion-should-not-be-imposed-on-matters-like-sabarimala-issue-ma-baby

Sat Mar 14 18:38:34 IST 2026

Interview/ M.A. Baby, general secretary, CPI(M)

Q. Kerala is currently the only state where the CPI(M) leads a government, and it has often been presented as a laboratory for advancing a “Left democratic alternative” toward the party’s vision of socialism. What do you see as the key achievements of the Pinarayi Vijayan government in the last decade in advancing this Left democratic alternative?

The overall progress of Kerala can justifiably be linked to the social reform and renaissance movements the state witnessed. The Communist movement and the Left democratic movement in Kerala carried forward these traditions from the very beginning—starting with the first government led by Comrade E.M.S. Namboodiripad, formed after the creation of the present administrative state of Kerala in 1956. That government laid the foundation for land and agricultural reforms. Therefore, when assessing the achievements of the present ten-year-long LDF government, one must begin with the foundations laid by the 1957 EMS government and the subsequent CPIM-led governments.

One crucial yardstick for assessing development is child mortality—Kerala’s infant mortality rate is better than that of developed countries like the USA.

The current Pinarayi Vijayan government eradicated extreme poverty and preserved Kerala’s secular democratic tradition. Infrastructure development is another important area. For instance, a new township has been constructed in Wayanad for victims of landslides. More than five lakh houses have been built under the Life Mission scheme, providing decent living conditions, unlike many government housing programmes elsewhere. Nearly ₹1 lakh crore worth of development projects have also been undertaken through the Kerala Infrastructure Investment Fund Board (KIIFB).

Kerala has also made significant progress in education, although we believe there is still room for improvement.

Q. Kerala’s Leader of the Opposition V. D. Satheeshan is attempting to project the Congress and the UDF as the “real Left,” while portraying the CPI(M)-led government as an extreme right-wing government. How do you respond to this political framing?

First of all, this shows the presence of the Left and the work that the Left has done in Kerala, in India, and across the world. The Left is something to be cherished and supported. That point, it seems, has been accepted even by Mr V.D. Satheesan, and I appreciate that.

But the question is: how do you define the “Left”? The famous thinker Eric Hobsbawm once attempted to define it. The Left represents forces that try to bring about meaningful changes in every aspect of society. The Right, on the other hand, generally supports the status quo, or even tries to prevent progressive measures that have emerged through administrative structures or through the collective efforts of society.

One important yardstick in defining this difference is the question of public ownership of the society’s wealth, as opposed to allowing profit motives to dominate. Right-wing governments are well known for handing over valuable public assets to crony capitalists. You can see that Congress, BJP, and many regional party governments do not really have a different economic project to present.

Take the example of Hindustan Newsprint Limited, a central PSU in Kerala. The Union government decided to privatise it during the tenure of the Pinarayi Vijayan government. Had it been a Congress government in the state, they might have simply gone along with that decision. That is what many Congress governments have done in similar situations.

In fact, the dismantling of the public sector in India began when Mr V.D. Satheesan’s party was in power in the country, with P.V. Narasimha Rao as Prime Minister and Dr Manmohan Singh as Finance Minister.

But what did the Pinarayi Vijayan government do? It told the Union government that they should allow the Kerala government to take it over rather than privatising it. Eventually, the Kerala government undertook Hindustan Newsprint Limited.

Similarly, when the Union government decided to privatise the Thiruvananthapuram International Airport, the Kerala government said that it had the expertise to run airports. For instance, Cochin International Airport operates under a public–private partnership model, where the state government retains overall control while private investors are also involved. The Kannur Greenfield Airport was also constructed with private participation, but under government control, during the LDF government.

Therefore, the Kerala government offered to take over the Thiruvananthapuram airport as well, just as it had taken over Hindustan Newsprint Limited. However, the Union government refused and instead handed it over to the Adani group.

Interestingly, what did Mr V.D. Satheesan’s colleague, Mr Shashi Tharoor—who is also a Congress Working Committee member—say at that time? Being the local MP, he publicly stated that it was good that the airport was given to Adani or to the private sector.

Q. The Congress has accused the CPI(M) of engaging in communal politics similar to the BJP by promoting the narrative that a UDF government would effectively mean Muslim League rule. How do you respond to this criticism equating the CPIM to the BJP?

Equating the CPI(M) with the BJP has become a routine political narrative promoted by the Congress and the UDF. But anyone in Kerala with even a basic understanding of arithmetic can see what actually happened.

Take the example of the Nemom Assembly constituency, from where a BJP candidate once won and entered the Kerala Assembly. If you closely examine the voting pattern in that election, it becomes clear that the decline in the UDF vote effectively became the victory margin for the BJP.

A similar pattern has been visible in recent Lok Sabha elections in Kerala, in local body polls, and on multiple occasions in the past.

The history of vote transfers and political collaboration between the BJP and the UDF can be demonstrated both arithmetically and historically. Yet, with the support of sections of the media, false allegations are often made against the LDF.

Q. The CPI(M) is often described as a highly disciplined cadre party. However, of late there have been multiple instances suggesting factional tendencies within the party in Kerala, particularly in strongholds such as Payyannur and Palakkad. How do you view these developments, and do you think they could affect the CPI(M) and the LDF as the state moves closer to elections?

The CPI(M), and communist parties in general, are well known for their organisational discipline. We modestly claim that this discipline continues to exist within our party.

However, a communist party functions within the broader society, where non-communist tendencies are also quite prevalent. Therefore, we have to constantly guard against such deviations. For that reason, our party regularly undertakes rectification campaigns.

During such campaigns we examine various issues. For instance, what we call “parliamentarism” is considered a deviation in our understanding. Parliamentarism has two aspects. One is the excessive desire to occupy parliamentary positions. The second is the mistaken belief that social transformation can be achieved solely through parliamentary efforts. Both of these are considered deviations in communist political practice.

That is why we have certain internal norms. For example, comrades who have consecutively won elections—usually for two terms—are generally expected to step down, unless the party decides, for justifiable reasons, to allow them to contest again. This is the organisational culture we try to maintain.

At the same time, there may occasionally be instances of deviation, both organisationally and at an individual level. But what is being reported from certain districts should not be seen as a general trend. These are isolated incidents, and both the party and the LDF are capable of addressing such issues without much difficulty.

Q. Compared to 2021, it appears that the party may field more incumbents this time. Discussions seem to be moving in that direction, with exemptions possibly being given in more cases from the two-term norm. Would you describe this as a pragmatic decision by the party under the current circumstances?

In the upcoming election and in the process of selecting candidates, the party continues to follow its principles. We have not abandoned them. At the same time, we are also giving due importance to the winnability of candidates.

So, there is an effort to maintain a proper balance. While adhering to organisational principles—such as not automatically repeating all those who have previously contested—we are also carefully considering the prospects of victory.

Q. Is the CPI(M) reconsidering its earlier stance on the Sabarimala women’s entry issue as a matter of political pragmatism? The Travancore Devaswom Board has passed a resolution opposing the 2018 Sabarimala verdict allowing women entry, and the government also has a role in such matters. How do you respond to this development?

You see, the CPI(M) and the Left stand firmly for women’s equality and social progress. However, such changes also require social acceptance. Society needs to be educated and prepared for these reforms; they cannot be implemented unilaterally.

Any social reform must take into account the readiness of society. With regard to Sabarimala, there are different views within the society. What was attempted earlier was not a decision taken by the LDF government on its own. It was the verdict of the Supreme Court. What was sought to be implemented at that time was the Supreme Court’s judgment.

Now the Supreme Court itself is reviewing the matter. The party’s position is clear: we do have our views, but we do not believe that a party’s opinion should be mechanically imposed on matters of this nature.

Ultimately, it is a matter of recognising social realities and addressing them through consultation.

Q. Some CPI(M) leaders are facing investigation in the Sabarimala gold theft case, yet no organisational disciplinary action has been taken so far. Don’t you think such developments could create a negative impression about the party and the state government among the public?

We have taken the correct decisions in these matters. First of all, the entire investigation is moving forward under the supervision of a special bench of the Kerala High Court. The government is not interfering in the investigation process. This has been categorically stated by the special bench overseeing matters related to Sabarimala. That, in fact, goes to the credit of the Pinarayi Vijayan government.

During the local body elections, a parody song was widely circulated [by our political opponents] that connect the party with the main accused, [Unnikrishnan] Potti.

Now it has been clearly established that he gained access to Sabarimala during the period when the UDF was in power.

Recently, we had an Assembly session in which the government was willing to discuss every aspect of the Sabarimala issue. However, under the leadership of Mr V.D. Satheesan, the Opposition walked out, saying they did not want a discussion. The question is—why did they refuse to discuss the matter?

Now, if those associated with the CPI(M), who held certain responsibilities in Sabarimala, are found guilty, they will be removed from the party without anyone even demanding it.

Some may ask why stronger action has not been taken so far. The reason is that no charge sheet has yet been filed. Only after a charge sheet is submitted will it become clear whether there was merely a dereliction of duty or whether they were involved in a deeper crime.

Any disciplinary action must be proportionate to the level of involvement. The CPI(M) follows strict principles. We cannot take action simply on the basis of allegations or preliminary impressions.

For the time being, the party has already decided that they should not participate in election campaign activities or in any party programmes. They have been served show-cause notices—a step that was not possible when they were in jail. Once the charge sheet is filed, further action will be taken depending on the gravity of the charges against them and their response to the show-cause notices.

congresss-strategy-is-to-try-and-make-fools-out-of-people-rajeev-chandrasekhar

Sun Mar 15 17:26:37 IST 2026

Interview/ Rajeev Chandrasekhar, BJP state president

Q/ The Congress in Kerala has consistently alleged a “secret pact” between the BJP and the CPI(M). They say that despite several high-profile cases and central investigations against the chief minister, there has been no action against him.

The Congress’s strategy is to try and make fools out of people. They try this in every state that goes to elections. The first thing they do is allege that their opposition party has an alliance with the BJP, to somehow make that party untouchable for the Muslim community.

Look, this is a silly political strategy that the Congress believes will work. If that is the case, then can the CPI(M) not argue that since Rahul Gandhi is not in jail in the National Herald case, the BJP-led government at the Centre is going slow on prosecuting him?

Whether it is Pinarayi Vijayan’s alleged corruption or the allegations involving Rahul and Sonia Gandhi, there is no question of anyone being let off. Eventually, the law will catch up.

Q/ There is an observation that you have moved the state BJP away from its hardline hindutva path. This is said in the context of your emphasis on ‘Vikasitha Keralam’.

In 2014, when Prime Minister Narendra Modi was elected with a strong mandate, he said that we are a party that believes in Sabka Saath, Sabka Vikas. He said that every Indian has an equal right to opportunity, welfare and progress because the Constitution is his guiding book. That is exactly what I am saying today in Kerala—that development must be the sole purpose of anyone in politics.

As far as hindutva is concerned, this is a bogey that has been created by the Congress for many years. What is hindutva in what we are saying or doing? There is nothing to be ashamed of in being proud of who we are. We are proud of our faith, and we have absolutely no reason to be shy about it. At the same time, we respect every vishwasi—every believer—and everybody’s right to practise their faith. There is no contradiction between what we have said in the past and what we are saying today.

We are also saying that... Kerala has a long tradition, a deep culture and a rich history. We want to celebrate that. That is why we worked to ensure that the name of our state reflects Keralam. This is the Keralam we want to celebrate—a land that has brought together people of different faiths and communities.

Q/ During the Sabarimala women’s entry controversy, the BJP led major agitations in the state. Yet it did not yield any electoral gains. Now, with the Sabarimala gold theft controversy, how will you ensure the BJP reaps the political dividend?

We do not see Sabarimala as a political dividend issue or as something to be encashed for electoral gains. What happened there was an insult; it was sacrilege. It was about harming people who have no other demand in life except to practise their faith in the way it has been practised for centuries in this very sacred temple of Lord Ayyappa.

When people in positions of political power try to disrupt that and harm people who simply want to practise their faith, the BJP steps in to protect them. We do not do that because we want votes from the people we protect.

A journalist asked me the same question when we launched the Muslim outreach programme: “Why are you doing this when you have never received significant Muslim votes?” My answer was that this is not the reason we do outreach. When we reach out to people in Kerala, we do it to tell them who we are, what our vision is, and what the prime minister is doing for them.

This becomes a problem only for those who practise politics solely for the sake of seeking votes.

women-mental-health-crisis-india

Sat Mar 07 16:37:26 IST 2026

One afternoon, Raina Sethi, 42, a mother to a cheerful 10-year-old girl in New Delhi’s Lajpat Nagar, found herself googling, “Why am I angry all the time?”

The possibility of being pregnant again was gnawing at her. Her husband and in-laws had been hinting at a second child. She regretted not speaking her mind earlier, when the conversation might have been easier. Now, just as her career had stabilised and her daughter had grown a bit independent, the pressure resurfaced.

Every day between her last period and the next was clouded in anxiety and uncertainty. To the outside world, her marriage appeared secure and comfortable. But within the privacy of her home, expectations lingered. “There is no one I can say this to without being judged,” she said. “Everyone assumes this is normal.”

Hundreds of kilometres away, a woman in her late 50s from Madhya Pradesh attempted suicide in her son’s apartment in Bengaluru. She had moved in with him and her daughter-in-law after her husband’s retirement. One afternoon, she swallowed two bottles of prescription pills. In a telephonic conversation with THE WEEK, she described the act as the culmination of months of feeling “unseen”. “I suddenly felt invisible in my own house,” she said. “It felt like a man’s world. Both my son and my husband would slight me for little things. I had no voice.”

For decades, she had run her household and raised her children. But in recent years, as she began experiencing menopause, she found herself struggling with mood swings, irritability, crying spells and insomnia. She did not have the language to articulate what was happening to her body and mind. When she tried, she was told she was “overreacting”. She survived the attempt but the loneliness, she said, remained. She has since moved back to Madhya Pradesh and now lives alone.

Anaaya B., 17, a first-year college student from Pune, began skipping lunch during her second semester. At first, it was subtle. She would tell her mother Kranti she had eaten at the canteen. Soon, dinner portions shrank, too. She began spending more time in front of the mirror and adjusting camera angles before posting photographs online.

Kranti noticed the shift. “Her friends, all teenage girls, were discussing calorie counts and ‘clean eating’, posting gym selfies and ‘what I eat in a day’ videos,” she said. “Instead of focusing on studies, she became obsessed with skin, thighs, jawlines, waistlines. If a photo didn’t get enough likes, she assumed it was because she looked bad.”

The anxiety escalated into panic attacks before social events and intense guilt after meals. “She felt like her entire worth was her body,” her mother said.

Laveena Sharon, a budding lawyer, gave birth to a baby boy three months ago. At the Mpowering Minds Summit 2026 in Bengaluru, which was organised by Mpower, an initiative of the Aditya Birla Education Trust, Sharon spoke about how society and people around you want to play a role in your family planning. Three years into her marriage, her mother-in-law told her not to wait and plan for a baby but rather to let it happen naturally. “In mid-2024, we decided to have a baby and I conceived naturally the very next month,” she said. “Unfortunately, I ended up having a miscarriage after seven weeks. The baby didn’t develop a heartbeat. I didn’t have any symptoms. I just had cramps and when I went to the scanning centre, they told me the baby was no longer there.” And then came a barrage of ‘I told you so’. It took a couple of challenging months for her to get over it.

These women do not know one another. They differ in age, geography and circumstance. Yet their distress is not incidental. Across India, women are disproportionately vulnerable to and affected by common mental health issues and disorders, often triggered or compounded by gendered violence, hormonal and biological transitions, societal expectations and social invisibility.

According to the National Mental Health Survey conducted by NIMHANS in 2019, mental health disorders are more prevalent among women than men. Women in India are found to be more prone to conditions like depression, anxiety and physical complaints compared to men. Globally, the World Health Organization has consistently found that depression is about 1.5 times more common among women than among men. Worldwide, more than 10 per cent of pregnant women and women who have just given birth experience depression.

At the Mpowering Minds Summit, some stark statistics came to light. Women aged 15 to 34 years account for more than 63 per cent of female suicide deaths in the country, and 39 per cent of maternal deaths are linked to suicide. One in five mothers experiences a perinatal mental health disorder. Among women aged 18 to 49 years, anxiety and depression are the most common mental health conditions, and burnout has doubled in the years following the pandemic.

Data from the AIMA-KPMG Women Leadership in Corporate India 2026 report show that 43 per cent of women have stepped back from leadership roles owing to work-life imbalance and burnout, and 38-40 per cent cite caregiving responsibilities, while 70 per cent continue to face bias and inclusion gaps.

Yet, 70 to 80 per cent of Indians who need mental health support never receive it. India has just 0.75 psychiatrists per one lakh people, and the economic cost of untreated mental illness is projected to cross $1 trillion by 2030.

As per the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) data, “family problems” and “marriage-related issues” were routinely listed among the leading causes of suicide deaths among women. The 2020 NCRB report stated that 22,372 housewives had died by suicide—an average of 61 suicides every day or one every 25 minutes.

Behind these numbers are women navigating layered roles, while absorbing emotional labour within deeply patriarchal structures that normalise their caregiving while overlooking their need for care.

Mental health professionals argue that factors such as chronic stress, invisibility within households, reproductive pressures, domestic conflict, hormonal transitions and economic dependence are the reasons that trigger women towards taking drastic measures. Also, men and women experience mental health challenges differently, not because one is stronger or weaker, but because their social realities are different, say experts.

“Women are uniquely positioned at the intersection of biological transitions, caregiving responsibilities, economic vulnerability and deeply ingrained societal expectations,” said Dr Padmaja Samant, professor and head of department, gynaecology and obstetrics, KEM hospital, Mumbai. “From adolescence through motherhood and midlife, they navigate hormonal shifts alongside emotional labour that often goes unacknowledged.” Men, on the other hand, are often socialised to suppress vulnerability, which can manifest as irritability, substance use or risk-taking, she added. “The difference is not in resilience, but in how society permits or denies emotional expression and support,” explained Samant.

Shruthi Viswanathan, 36, remembered exactly when she first found herself slipping. She had married at 25 and moved from Jabalpur to Bengaluru, her first time living in a metro. She was expected to slip seamlessly into her roles of wife, daughter-in-law and new bride in a big city. Instead, she felt unmoored.

“I was overwhelmed,” recalled Viswanathan. “It was emotional turmoil, navigating new relationships, a new city, domesticity. But nobody really understood. It is so normalised for girls to get married and immediately feel comfortable in the ‘other’ house.” Soon, she was diagnosed with clinical depression. “I did once attempt extreme self harm,” she said. “Thankfully, my husband came in at the right moment.”

Viswanathan sought psychiatric help and slowly learnt to recognise her warning signs—the sudden emptiness, the self-harm impulses, the inability to function. “Sadness is very different from depression,” she said. “You can be laughing in a room full of people and suddenly feel completely empty.”

Motherhood brought both joy and relapse. Her first pregnancy, said Viswanathan, “was a breeze”. But after the second child was born, the ground shifted again. “The guilt of not being able to give my elder one the same attention was always there,” she said. Her younger son was intensely clingy for nearly a year, refusing to go to anyone else. “How do you regulate your emotions when you are going through hormonal changes and everything in your body feels out of shape? For months, I felt like I wanted to jump out of my own skin. I had forgotten who I was,” she said. The turning point came unexpectedly, when a friend noticed her standing blankly at a play-date and later asked gently, “Is everything really okay?”

Certain patterns repeat in women across age groups, from adolescents to those in their 50s, said psychiatrist Dr Ruksheda Syeda. “When I see a woman, I routinely ask about trauma—verbal, physical, sexual, financial, social,” said Syeda. “Unfortunately, the majority report at least one incident of inappropriate touch, harassment or violation at some point in their lives.”

While not every experience results in a psychiatric disorder, the cumulative impact is undeniable. Clinically, Syeda sees disproportionately higher rates of depression and anxiety among women, along with rising recognition of premenstrual dysphoric disorder, body image distress among adolescents, low self-esteem and non-suicidal self-injury. There is also a gradual but significant shift, she said, that of greater awareness around perinatal mental health, more referrals from gynaecologists and increasing conversations around perimenopause—a phase when anxiety and depressive symptoms often intensify or resurface.

“Earlier, psychiatric medication would simply be stopped during pregnancy, leading to relapses. Now we are seeing more collaborative care,” noted Syeda. “Early recognition and support can completely change the trajectory.”

But for Kalpana Swamy, in her 40s, the support never came. “I hardened myself; I learnt how to laugh off toxicity surrounding my body type and colour,” said Swamy, founder and curator, Muzicalli Music Appreciation Community. Initially, she, too, struggled with acceptance. “Throughout my life, there have been instances when I wanted to abandon myself. I had come to hate myself,” she said. “From friends to in-laws, everyone always had something to say about the way I looked and so I was always conscious about my body.” A long-term relationship ended partly because of social prejudices, when conversations around whether a “dark girl” would be accepted into a north Indian family began to surface.

Marriage and immediate motherhood brought a new set of negotiations. Raising a daughter in a society still fixated on fairness and slimness meant the scrutiny did not end. Now, as she watches her teenage daughter navigate bullying in school for not fitting narrow beauty standards, the cycle feels painfully familiar. “But I have made sure that what happened with me does not happen to her,” said Swamy, who lives in Maharashtra’s Thane. “I have made her very headstrong. She is comfortable in her own skin and will not let body shaming get to her.”

A 2023 study published in the International Journal of Indian Psychology shows how deeply gendered the experience of body shaming among adolescents is. By way of a cross-sectional study conducted among 155 adolescents in Mysuru (aged 10–19 years), 23.2 per cent of female participants reported high levels of body shaming compared to just 7.1 per cent of boys.

“There is a very close relationship between a woman’s mental and physical health,” said Prathima Murthy, director, NIMHANS. “We, as a society, must integrate them with social well-being. And that is why the empowerment of women in society becomes so critical.”

The next decade, said Murthy, demands structural embedding of early intervention, accessible counselling, workplace reform and public policy support, so that women are not forced to perform resilience while enduring in silence.

mental-health-checks-should-be-embedded-in-community-health-programme-neerja-birla

Sat Mar 07 16:36:34 IST 2026

Interview/ Neerja Birla,, founder & chairperson, Aditya Birla Education Trust

At a recent conference in Delhi, two strangers walked up to Neerja Birla, founder and chairperson of the Aditya Birla Education Trust, with a confession. They told her they had once been “completely lost”, overwhelmed, unsure and reluctant to seek help. Opting for counselling at Mpower, founded by Birla in 2016, they said, became the turning point. The hardest step had been acknowledging to themselves that they needed support. Once they did, “there was no looking back”.

For Birla, such encounters are a reminder that mental health work is not abstract advocacy; it is about pulling someone out of what she calls a “black hole” and helping them find steadier ground again. For over a decade, Birla has worked to build that ground through Mpower.

Just before we begin our conversation, she recounts a recent, almost comic, episode. Her daughter Ananya and she were photographed outside Mumbai airport as Birla bent down to hug her dog Snoopy, completely unaware of the paparazzi. “It was suddenly all over [the media],” she says with a laugh, adding that she doesn’t follow everything that circulates online and uses social media sparingly.

The anecdote becomes an easy bridge into a deeper discussion about visibility, perception and vulnerability, especially for women constantly navigating public scrutiny, private battles and cultural expectations.

In this wide-ranging interview, Birla speaks candidly about why awareness without acceptance is not enough, why women are often conditioned to endure silently, her own experience with postpartum depression and how sisterhood, systems and self acknowledgement can together reshape India’s mental health narrative. Excerpts:

Q/ You have said that in India the problem is that despite awareness regarding mental health issues, it is the acceptance that still has a long way to go.

The awareness is better than what it was when we started. However, there is still a long way to go. But yes, there has been a mindset shift in a lot of pockets. I say acceptance is lacking because it is still very stigmatised.... As a result, though people are aware, they still hold back from seeking help. They prefer suffering in silence than owning up to it. From that point of view, mental health behaviour still needs a lot of change. And, as a community, if we are able to accept it better, it will automatically help in people opening up and seeking help. Very often in workplaces, people suffer in silence because of the stigma. They wonder whether their productivity and self-worth will be doubted if they come out with it. That stops them from seeking help.

Q/ In such a scenario, do you feel women face unique challenges? Do you think our cultural narrative needs to evolve to treat women's mental health as a problem in itself?

Yes. Along with stigma, there is also a lot of caring responsibility on women’s shoulders. Added to that, there is financial dependency. Women are also dealing with hormonal changes and upheavals in cultural settings. You may be having a difficult time at office and then you have to look after your children at home and you may be going through premenstrual syndrome or a menopausal phase, and everything sort of always intersects and comes together. They do not happen in parts. And that makes it more difficult for women. Statistics show that women are more prone to anxiety than men, and then coupled with the fact that you are supposed to bear it all silently, the emotional labour is never acknowledged.

Of course, it is great to be resilient, and resilience is often celebrated in a manner that even if you keep quiet about it, [it is assumed] that you are [being] very brave. But it is just normalised and that makes it even more difficult, because you always want to then reach that benchmark of being able to endure it quietly. Why should we endure it quietly? I think the narrative can change.... So nobody is shirking away from caregiving responsibilities, but at the same time one needs to acknowledge it—that yes, it is a difficult thing that I am doing and I am still doing my best but that does not mean that I cannot talk about it. Validating those feelings will really help women to seek help.

Q/ And yet society is more likely to address men's mental health issues than women's?

Men and women both go through mental health issues. I think both are dealing with stigmas and cultural narratives in their own spheres. Men are dealing with the fact that they are not supposed to show their softer side. They are not expected to cry, not supposed to be having mental health issues. So they deal with those stigmas. Women, on the other hand, deal with it but are expected to suffer quietly. So, I will not say that men's mental health issues are being dealt with more than women, but that both are dealing with their issues. On our helpline, about 78 per cent callers are men, which is very high. That tells me that men are willing to talk and like the fact that someone is there to listen to them and that they don't have to deal with gender bias and that they can freely talk about it.

I also feel that there is a huge stigma where people feel that if you are a high achiever or if you are doing well, then you cannot be dealing with a mental health issue. But the two can go together. Very often, there are high-performing individuals who could be highly depressed or dealing with severe anxiety and panic—they have set standards for themselves, there are expectations, and yet they are fighting a daily battle within themselves. So that is a big myth that high achievers cannot have mental health issues.

Q/ Motherhood is another role that women are expected to take on naturally, without being depressed or feeling low. What is your take on postpartum depression?

It is a reality. I have been through postpartum depression myself. The first time I went through it, after my first child was born, I didn't know what to do. I was riddled and saddled with so much guilt because we are expected to be happy, especially after your firstborn, as it is a great joy and it is. But you are also dealing with a low phase, which you are not able to explain to those around you. So creating awareness about it and talking about it is important because that is what helped me the second time. I realised there was something called postpartum depression only after I started reading about it following my first pregnancy. So, just the knowledge that something like this exists and validating my feelings helped me navigate it the second time. It didn't mean that I didn't go through it the second time, just that I knew how to deal with it.

Q/ In cities, we are at least aware of terms like postpartum depression. But people in remote parts of the country are not even aware that it exists.

We have seen women calling in with postpartum depression and maternal neglect. During pregnancy, women go through physical checkups. But I think mental health checkups, too, need to be embedded into the system, and which continues into the postnatal phase as well. Those checks and balances, once embedded into the community programme, will help normalise it.

Q/ Do you think such interventions are also necessary at the perimenopausal and menopausal stages?

Absolutely. I don't know how our mothers went through it because a lot of times they didn't even know what they were going through. So we don't have that advantage of lived experience. But the next generation, say, my daughters, they have already seen me go through it and they have that experience; they know what is to be expected. If we are able to put it into systems, have routine checkups, have more awareness, it will really help. Because we—people of my age—are actually the first generation in a sense that is actually getting exposed to it without having the lived experience of the past.

Q/ Women across age groups are battling social media pressures, albeit in different ways. How do we shift the social media narrative towards being supportive towards women's mental health?

Social media is here to stay. Using it appropriately and in a balanced manner is what one should do. It will be very ambitious and utopian to say that the content that goes out on social media needs to be regulated. But if the content is regulated and balanced, then there will be no problem at all. However, in the absence of that, the trick lies in your being able to consume it in a balanced manner and not overdoing it. Personally, after having consumed it for a few minutes, I feel like I cannot have any more of it. That is my ceiling. Overdoing anything is detrimental to your health and I think it is the same with social media.

The content on social media can be regulated if each person who is putting it out takes responsibility for it and puts out matter that we know is not going to harm people and that is not unreal. If, as a community, we can do that, it will be the best way. As of now, we need to self-regulate and have a check on ourselves and not overdo it.

Q/ How do women get the community around them to be their mental health cheerleaders?

When I realised that within my own ecosystem there were very few people talking about perimenopause, I started talking about it. I went through the journey myself. When it first hits you, it takes a little time to understand what is happening, because you are always attributing it to something. You do not realise the shift that is taking place inside your body. Then you are spending time getting adjusted to a new you because there is a shift in everything, right from your energy levels to the way you look, and brain fog is real. And I realised nobody was talking about it. I happened to talk about it to a friend of mine and it just so happened that even she felt the same. In that discussion, we realised that this was called perimenopause. And that conversation of 20 minutes made me realise that sisterhood is so important. I realised that there were so many other people facing the same issue. Even though it does not change what you are going through, it does help you sort of acknowledge it, and that in itself is a way of self care.

the-stigma-divide-why-young-indian-women-struggle-to-seek-mental-health-help

Sat Mar 07 16:35:53 IST 2026

Pertaining to the mental health of young women, we might be living in two Indias, with two distinct kinds of problems. In one, women are silent sufferers, with shame, disillusionment and depression being well-kept secrets. This is the India in which the gap between the onset of a mental health issue and the time it takes a person to seek help is eight to 10 years. This is the India in which women have been treated as second-class citizens for centuries. “From the brutality of sati to the social exile of widows, women’s suffering has often been ritualised, normalised and silenced,” said child, adolescent and family psychiatrist Dr Zirak Marker during a session on the ‘silent distress of young women’ at the second edition of the Mpowering Minds summit in Bengaluru. “From barring menstruating girls from kitchens and temples to the crushing weight of the dowry system that still exists in our society, distress has been inherited silently.” So why do women still feel shame in voicing that distress, which manifests as depression, anxiety and self-harm? Why this stigma in reaching out for professional help?

According to Dr Shyam Bhat, psychiatrist and founder of the Nirvikalpa Foundation, this gap is a result of young women not being able to articulate what they are feeling. There may be feelings of dissociation, numbness, irritability and fatigue, but a lot of this is normalised, attributed to adolescence and hormones. “In male mental health circles, we talk about stoicism, but I actually see a lot of that in women,” he said. “They have to be the ‘good person’ and conform to a certain role where their feelings cannot be expressed. And these are critical years of identity formation. So, it can take a long time before the person admits to something being wrong.”

The problem might even be systemic, said Dr Jasmine Kalha, co-director and senior research fellow at the Centre for Mental Health Law & Policy, Indian Law Society, Pune. “I think it is a mental health sector problem, and we are to be blamed,” she said. “Help has become extremely inaccessible, and we are not providing the solutions that people want.” As a result, said Kalha, part of her work involves co-designing solutions with people from the community who don’t want to accept the help of professionals.

But there is another India that is silently growing in significance, an India that takes its cues from the west. This is the India in which girls want to be ‘woke’ and, instead of being silent, take pride in diagnosing their own mental health conditions. There is much over-labelling and over exposure. Marker spoke about a 12-year-old girl coming to him and expressing her dissatisfaction with her body. She wanted to know about breast reduction surgery. She knew about gender terminology and the dynamics of being transgender.

This is, of course, nothing new in the west. According to one study published in JAMA Pediatrics, one in four US adolescents in grades 9-12 reported their sexual identity as non-heterosexual. Another survey found high rates of sadness, bullying and suicide attempts among transgender and gender questioning teenagers. Bhat said that this western concept of labelling your gender at a young age is dangerous, and something we should dissuade our young people from copying.

From his 12 years of experience working as a therapist in the US, he is of the view that the American mental health system is a failed one. “Let’s be clear, America spends more on mental health than anyone else,” he said. “There is accessibility to mental health services and no treatment gap. They have plenty of psychiatrists and therapists, but suicide, homicide and divorce rates are at an all-time high there. So, let’s not replicate their system which is essentially about paying a lot of money and getting poor results. What you call hope I call the toxicity of hyper individualism that has seeped into the therapeutic language. It tells young people to quickly define themselves. The last thing you want is to intrude on their sense of being. Let them be who they are without having to hyper-label themselves even before they have any idea of who they are. The western idea of liberation is to label the hell out of yourself. They believe that inflexible, rigid identity is their highest self. That will never work for our country, and we are in danger if we adopt that system of psychotherapy.”

Dr Meenakshi Kirtane, founder and director of Maanas The Inside Story and founding president, Indian Psychodrama Association, added that India should follow its own example. “As a culture, we have always been rooted in wisdom,” she said. “We should be attuned to our own existence and celebrate ourselves just as we are. Body image issues, just like social media and the cosmetics industry, are an absolutely fabricated problem. If we can make every girl child feel that she is beautiful as she is, half our population won’t need to go to social media for validation.”

lovechild-how-masaba-gupta-built-a-brand-on-authenticity-and-self-love

Sat Mar 07 16:35:10 IST 2026

“The most audaciously named beauty label in the Indian lifestyle market, Lovechild turns Masaba’s own identity—once framed as a scandal in her mother Neena Gupta’s life—into brand. It reframes stigma as strength.”

—Shefalee Vasudev, Stories We Wear: Status, Spectacle and the Politics of Appearance

When Masaba Gupta won the most promising designer award at the Lakme Fashion Week at 19, one of her submissions was a sari: bold, colourful and cheerful. It set the tone for what her fashion label, House of Masaba, would represent—a playful and unconventional aura. So much so that Masaba (often interpreted to mean princess, an African-origin name her father Sir Vivian Richards chose) is now called the Queen of Prints.

While her creativity got her recognition, it is her candid nature that drives her brand. This was evident at the Mpowering Minds Summit 2026.

“I don't think that I ever set out... to make this my life's mission—talking about my difficulties and, in that, sort of helping other women and other people find their way,” she said during a fireside chat with journalist Shweta Punj. “It comes naturally. My mother raised me to wear my heart on my sleeve. I think we do the people around us a great service when we are ourselves because then we allow them to be themselves.” This, she said, has only helped her. “So, being vulnerable is a superpower. I know a lot of people see it as weakness, but I see it as a big strength.”

When the conversation turned to ambition, she laughed at her own evolution. At three months post-partum, she felt women could have it all. Today, 16 months post-partum, her view has shifted. “It depends on your support system and the privilege of choice,” she said. “We have to stagger ambition in order to have it all.” She offered an image: life as a stove with four burners—friends, family, work and health. All of them could not be aflame at the same time. “Today, friends have taken a backseat... my priority is work, my baby and my health. All three are closely linked. If I'm not healthy, I can't take care of my child or work. If I'm not feeling at my best in my work, I know that I won't be a great mom at home, and vice versa.”

She returned to work 10 days after giving birth and calls it the poorest decision of her life. “[For new mothers] mental rest is much more important than physical rest,” she said. Self-care and self-love, she said, are the highest forms of self-respect. “Especially for women because we don't give it to ourselves,” she added. “I've been taking time [for] self-preservation, to last longer. I want to work and be healthy and care for my daughter for a long time. I don't want to burn out. I think we've glorified that for too long.”

She clarified she was not talking about work-life balance as it is often discussed. “It's not something that's bookish,” she said. “I think that you have to find within your life, challenges and circumstances what that balance is.”

After a childhood that was unconventional by Indian norms—her birth certificate was leaked on the day she was born—sport helped her to stay focused. For a few years as a young professional, tennis taught her self-discipline and the skill of self-talk. “The amount of self-talk that goes into building yourself up... on the court is magical and I think that really builds you up for the rest of your life,” said the 37-year-old. “Today, whenever I'm feeling down or there are uncertainties, I dip into sport. That's my therapy. Every young person should play a sport.”

mental-game-anju-bobby-georges-strategies-for-success-off-the-field

Sat Mar 07 16:34:32 IST 2026

For an athlete who has stood tall on the world stage, the greatest battles were not always fought on the field. Sometimes, they unfolded quietly—in moments of disappointment, self-doubt and personal responsibility. When Anju Bobby George spoke at Mpowering Minds Summit 2026, it was clear that she had survived not just by physical power, but by emotional resilience.

Failure, she said, must be processed—not suppressed. “If I want to cry, I cry. If I want to do something else, I will do that,” she said candidly. Rather than masking disappointment, she allows herself to process it fully. After the tears, she sits down and resets her focus—breaking down her ambitions into long-term and short-term goals. Long-term goals, she explained, can feel overwhelming if they seem too distant. The key is to make progress measurable and immediate.

Even champions question themselves. At the 2004 Athens Olympics, expectations were immense, but George couldn’t win a medal. “I told my husband my career was over,” she said. It took her immense strength to emerge from the emotional turbulence and then she laced up her shoes to return to training.

Her journey also highlighted the invisible weight women athletes carry. “Support systems are crucial,” emphasised George. Balancing sports with motherhood, marriage and caregiving demands constant negotiation.

Then there are deeper responsibilities. For seven years, her mother remained in a coma. Behind the medals and public appearances was a daughter navigating duty and emotional strain. “It’s easy to talk about balance,” reflected George. “But the reality is different—you have to learn to manage everything.”

Being a sportsperson, body image and ageing have brought their own challenges. Once criticised for competing in what some called a “manly game”, George later faced scrutiny for pregnancy weight gain. After her first child, she returned to peak fitness within six months. After her second, it took her around five years. Now in her 40s, she is confronting new physical changes. Amid all this, she holds on to one lesson: “Love yourself and find space for yourself.”

Her mental strategy is practical and powerful—always have a Plan A, B and C. “If you have only one plan, you feel like life is over when it fails,” said George. Backup plans create psychological safety.

She has a simple health mantra for everyone admiring her energy: Drink plenty of water, eat protein-rich food and carve out “me time”. For her, that might mean strength training—“being in the gym is like living my life”—or simply watching a movie.

mental-health-is-survival-not-luxury-for-transgender-community-akkai-padmashali

Sat Mar 07 16:33:50 IST 2026

Naanu chennagiddene, neevu chennagilla.

I am fine. You are not fine.

When transgender activist Akkai Padmashali says these words, they do not come from a place of arrogance. These are words of a survivor. After years of being told that she was wrong, unnatural and unacceptable from a society that scrutinised the way she spoke, walked and even breathed, she stands steady today, beaming with pride.

Padmashali is someone who has wrestled with rejection, stood at the edge of despair and chosen life anyway. Born male but identifying herself as a woman, she described a childhood and youth shaped by conflict. “It took me more than 30 years to build self-acceptance, self-love and self-respect,” she said.

Mental health, insists Padmashali, is not a luxury for marginalised communities; it is survival. “It is 100 times more important,” she said, explaining how transgender and gender-diverse individuals are often denied homes, education, employment and even basic dignity. Her pain reached its peak when she attempted suicide twice. During her second attempt, something shifted. “I told the rope, ‘I am perfect and you (society) are not,’” she recalled.

For years, Padmashali lived on the margins, surviving through begging and sex work. She witnessed police harassment, financial instability and vulnerability. Her experiences brought clarity, and she decided to fight for the marginalised people who continue to navigate systemic exclusion.

The mental health crisis among individuals from marginalised communities remains urgent. Accessing gender-affirming health care—hormone therapy, surgeries, counselling—can be emotionally and financially exhausting. Even finding a psychologist who understands sexual minorities is rare. In Karnataka alone, with a transgender population exceeding seven lakh, says Padmashali, only a few professionals are considered comfortable and capable enough to be approached.

“I am against sympathy; I want empathy,” emphasised Padmashali. She advocates for community mobilisation—educating individuals about mental health, suicide prevention and addiction—and for institutional reform to make health care truly inclusive. While India has made legal strides in recognising transgender rights, laws alone cannot undo generations of stigma. Healing requires acceptance.

Beyond activism and advocacy, there is a softer side to Padmashali—her love for classical singing. When asked what she might have become if not an activist, her answer came without hesitation: a classical singer. In that brief moment during the conversation, as she sang a few lines, the room shifted. For Padmashali, singing is more than a hobby; it is a form of emotional release. In a life marked by struggle and public battles, music is a reminder that, beyond the fight, there is also poetry.

Her journey reminds us that mental health is not only about diagnosis or treatment. It is also about belonging and reclaiming dignity. And sometimes, it begins with a simple truth whispered in the darkest moment: I am perfect.

mother-load-why-postpartum-care-for-new-mothers-matters

Sat Mar 07 16:33:16 IST 2026

Motherhood is often wrapped in celebration—sweets distributed to friends and relatives, photographs of the newborn flooding family WhatsApp groups and more. But somewhere between the waves of congratulatory messages and the exhaustion of sleepless nights, the mother herself can become invisible.

While social entrepreneur and philanthropist Janhavi Nilekani acknowledged that we are finally talking about women’s mental health, talk, she insisted, is the easy part.

Over the past decade and a half, maternal mental health has entered mainstream discourse. Therapy is no longer a stranger, postpartum depression is widely recognised and ‘baby blues’ are part of a larger understanding. “If anything, people are very conscious about mental health or very quick to label the normal range of human experience and emotion as something pathological,” said Nilekani, founder and chairperson, Aastrika Foundation & Aastrika Midwifery Centre, on the sidelines of the Mpowering Minds Summit. “When it comes to maternal mental health, there is a lot more awareness, but maybe still not much importance is given to it.”

In India, maternity care often prioritises safe delivery. But what happens after the child is born? According to Nilekani, a mother’s recovery— both physical and psychological—does not always receive the same emphasis. Unnecessary C-sections, inductions and episiotomies, when performed without clear medical need, can lead to prolonged recovery and higher morbidity. For Nilekani, reducing avoidable interventions is central to improving maternal mental health.

But hospitals are only part of the equation. The home environment, stressed Nilekani, can be detrimental to dealing with postpartum stress. “In Indian society, a mother's recovery and wellbeing are often given very little weight. Prioritising her physical recovery in maternity care is essential because the worse she feels physically, the harder it is to manage everything else,” she said. “Families also need to be more sympathetic to how hard the postpartum period is, ensuring the mother has an emotional atmosphere where she still maintains her autonomy and agency. We shouldn't force outdated, restrictive postpartum rituals on her; she is an adult in a vulnerable time who still deserves agency over herself.”

If there is one reform Nilekani would prioritise, it is stronger auditing of maternity hospitals and closer scrutiny of maternal morbidity data. “While safety of the mother and child is mainstream in much of India, the importance of minimising morbidity and side effects is not prioritised,” she said. “I would like to see more policy focus on that for the sake of women.”

India may be speaking more openly about mental health than ever before. The challenge now is to ensure a woman’s wellbeing after she steps into motherhood and the life after stepping out of the delivery room.

beyond-the-boardroom-voices-of-women-leaders-on-overcoming-societal-hurdles

Sat Mar 07 16:32:32 IST 2026

In 1960s Madras, a girl and her sister were made to participate in a night-time ritual at the dinner table, where their mother would ask them to write a speech about what they would do if they were president or prime minister of a country. Every day, they would be asked to impersonate a different leader. After dinner, the girls would give their prepared speeches, and their mother would decide the winner, who then signed a piece of paper accepting her position as the world leader of the day. The mother and daughters had a lot of fun with the exercise, but it also taught the girl to believe in herself and to dream big. Despite growing up in a conservative society, her mother gave her the confidence to be whoever she wanted to be.

That girl is Indra Nooyi, who went on to do her MBA from the Yale School of Management in 1980, and later became the first female CEO of PepsiCo. After spearheading several major acquisitions, significantly improving the net revenue of the company and consistently being ranked among the world’s 100 most powerful women, nothing seemed impossible for Nooyi; the world was her playing field. And then, 12 years ago, the woman who seemed to have it all made an astounding statement—that women can’t have it all. She said that juggling her career with raising her two children inevitably took a toll. “Being a stay-at-home mother is a full-time job,” she said. “Being a CEO is three jobs in one. How can you do justice to all of them?”

Many women have chosen to give up their careers for the sake of their families, or vice versa. The numbers are there to prove it, said Shobha Ratna, chief human resources officer at Aditya Birla Fashion and Retail Ltd, during a session on women and leadership at the second edition of the Mpowering Minds Summit 2026. Only 10 per cent of global CEOs and 30 per cent of those in senior management are women. In India, nearly 50 per cent of women step back from their careers because of work-life issues.

“As women, we have to keep proving ourselves over and over again,” said Sunita Wazir, head of transformation—global health & wellbeing, Hindustan Unilever Ltd. “Unfortunately, there is a particular style of leadership that is connected with power in workplaces [where one must be seen as being aggressive]. There is a lot of sacrifice and negotiation on a day-to-day basis to be a woman leader. What choices do I make? Do I care for my family or attend a work meeting? Do I give up my sleep? What else do I need to give up? We need to move away from the narrative that resilience is me giving up everything that I care about to be successful. Also, structurally we are not designed to support women. If we design workplace processes, systems and structures in a way that is conducive to women, we will see a lot of change.”

These challenges and trade-offs are not just for women in the corporate sphere. Celebrated sportsperson Anju Bobby George spoke about facing stiff opposition from her family when her mother decided to enrol her in athletics. They told her she would become dark playing in the sun and would not be able to find a husband. Later, when George began her international career, she faced criticism for wearing makeup and nail paint while competing. “If I looked good, it boosted my confidence,” she said. “To all the critics, my answer was my jumps, my medals.”

So, what can we do to support women in their leadership journey? “As a society, we should judge women by their merit and performance, and not by their gender,” said IPS officer Padmini Sahoo. “My male counterparts certainly do not face the amount of scrutiny that I do.” She also said that although we have enough policies and welfare measures for women in the public sector, we still judge those who avail of them.

Neuro coach and speaker Saloni Suri stressed the importance of women becoming financially independent. “The minute a woman understands money, she gets power. She gets to call the shots because it is her money. Does she want to use it to get a maid or a driver? Does she want to spend it for her comfort? It is her call.”

What is most important to remember, said Ratna, is that ambition and well-being are not opposites. Women do not need to be stronger; leadership systems need to be wiser. And leadership maturity is not measured by how much authority we hold, but rather, how much lighter we can make leadership for others.

beyond-the-seven-islands-inside-the-blueprint-for-third-mumbai

Sat Feb 28 16:38:05 IST 2026

On a warm October afternoon in Mumbai last year, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis was at his cheerful best as he received a trade delegation led by UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer. Welcoming them, Fadnavis unveiled plans for one of his most ambitious projects yet—the Third Mumbai, a new city bigger than the original and seamlessly connected to it. A while earlier, Fadnavis had spoken about the idea as he inaugurated the Worli office of international financial giant Goldman Sachs.

Bureaucrats and close aides of Fadnavis shared with THE WEEK details of the chief minister’s plans for the Third Mumbai, which will be an entirely new city built from the ground up with global universities, world-class hospitals, mega business districts, global capability centres, data centre parks and modern infrastructure. A close aide of Fadnavis said that the Third Mumbai, which will be located in Raigad district, will be an international city developed within the influence area of the recently opened Navi Mumbai International Airport.

“Third Mumbai is a brilliant idea, and it will bring transformational change to Mumbai,” said Pankaj Joshi, eminent urban planner and principal director of Urban Centre Mumbai. “However, three things need to be ensured. It should have a mass rapid transport system like Mumbai’s suburban railway network. A metro will not work because it is expensive. Second, Third Mumbai requires mixed use planning, which was done in Beijing and Shanghai when those cities expanded. People should live closer to the work place. Third, the new city should have the best of amenities and utilities. Bringing land into urban domain is always good idea if it is backed by detailed and solid planning. If people living in Third Mumbai can reach south Mumbai in 40-45 minutes then it will be a success.”

Mumbai itself is undergoing a sweeping infrastructure upgrade. The British built the working man’s capital of India linking seven islands. It gained prominence when England’s textile hub Manchester had to depend on Indian cotton after the civil war in the US impacted cotton imports from that country.

Bharat Gothoskar, a heritage evangelist who runs the Khaki Tours heritage walks in Mumbai, said that emergence of Mumbai as a busy seaport started in the 1860s during the cotton crisis. “The railways had started operations just a decade before the US civil war, and the cotton growing regions of Gujarat and Vidarbha were connected with railway lines which took the goods to Bombay,” he said. “The Calcutta port was equally busy but what made Bombay the busiest port was the opening of the Suez canal. Thus Bombay port became closer than the Calcutta port for trade operations and it eventually became the busiest seaport in India.”

Bombay: The Cities Within, a popular book by historians Sharada Dwivedi and Rahul Mehrotra, talks about Lowjee Nusserwanjee Wadia, who came to Mumbai in 1735 from Surat and laid the foundation for modern shipbuilding in Mumbai. “Nusserwanjee was a mistry, a master carpenter who was asked to come to Mumbai as East India Company’s employee and start shipbuilding. His descendants were the famous Wadia shipbuilders, and today we know them as the Wadia business family,” said Gothoskar.

The name Bombay has Portuguese origins. In the 16th century, the Portuguese invaders called the region Bombaim, after the phrase Bom Bahia, which meant ‘good bay’. The British got it as a dowry when Catherine of Breganza married Charles II in May 1662. The crown hardly thought anything of the gift and leased it to the East India Company for a measly sum of 10 pounds a year. The company owned the city till the revolt of 1857, after which the crown established control all over India.

The textile merchants and stock brokers used to sit under two banyan trees in the Fort area of Bombay and carry out their business back in those days. As time passed, old structures made way for new ones. The city continued to grow, eventually expanding into Salsette Island, which is now the Mumbai Suburban district, and up to Thana, which was a Maratha territory till the fall of the empire in 1818. The Indian Railways was born in Mumbai with its first run up to Thana in 1853, which brought the city closer to the suburbs.

The Lumiere brothers brought six short films to India and screened it at the Watson Hotel in Mumbai in 1896. Eventually, Mumbai became the hub of glitz, thanks to big studios like Bombay Talkies of Devika Rani and Himanshu Rai. The term Bollywood emerged much later.

The city continued to evolve and transform with each passing decade. Cut to the 2020s and the old bridges have made way for new ones, coastal roads are being built, the underground Metro Line 3 is fully operational, and new metro lines are under construction across the city.

Yet, it is bursting at the seams, with overcrowded trains and traffic jams. Navi Mumbai was born out of this gridlock, but it did not make the problems disappear. Now, the Third Mumbai is expected to solve all that.

Pankaj Joshi said that Navi Mumbai remained a stillborn city for 20 years because railways reached there late, so it became a dormitory city of Mumbai. “With nearly Rs3 lakh crore invested in mega infrastructure projects in the vicinity of Third Mumbai, the proposed region will help manage density of incoming people and keep the real estate prices under check,” he said. “But one must remember that things are not going to change overnight. Dependence on the main city will remain for some years as everything is not going to move overnight.”

The Atal Setu, a 22km sea bridge connecting Mumbai to the mainland near the Navi Mumbai Airport, was opened in 2024. The area from where it lands to the airport—and the surrounding region—is set to undergo a massive transformation as the Third Mumbai project takes off.

Currently, the region falls under multiple authorities, including the City and Industrial Development Corporation and the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority. CIDCO will serve as the nodal body executing the Third Mumbai project. “This entire region is being redrawn, literally,” said an official.

The Navi Mumbai International Airport itself is expected to give a significant boost to the region. The old Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport, located in the heart of Mumbai, has already reached its full capacity of around 55 million passengers, with no space for expansion.

Mumbai’s first airport was the Juhu Aerodrome, which opened in 1928. The terminal one and two of the Mumbai airport were sites of the Royal Air Force airstrip that was constructed in 1942. It was handed over for civilian use in 1948 and became known as Santacruz airport. Currently, the domestic terminal is called Santacruz, while the international terminal is called Sahar. The airport was named after Shivaji in 1999, and Maharaj was suffixed 19 years later.

The Navi Mumbai airport will help decongest the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj airport, just as the Third Mumbai will help the mega city achieve that. This is the third attempt to decentralise Mumbai. In the 1970s, as the city got crowded, planners recognised the need to develop an entirely new town, and that was how Navi Mumbai came into being.

Navi Mumbai is situated on Maharashtra’s mainland across the sea from Mumbai city, and was carved out from Thane and Raigad (previously Kulaba) districts. Before the 1970s, the area was home to some 90 villages where the Agri, Koli and Bhandari communities caught fish, made salt and tapped toddy. Vashi, Turbhe and Belapur, which are now known as nodes of Navi Mumbai, were the original villages. Each node was named after the prominent village in that node.

Some of the family chieftains in these villages were the Naiks, Mhatres, Patils, Thakurs and Patkars. A number of prominent politicians from Navi Mumbai belong to these families that lived in the original 90 villages. Ganesh Naik, senior Maharashtra BJP minister is one of them. He was a Shiv Sena minister in the first Sena-BJP government from 1995-1999 and had gifted 100 ambulances to his party for social work on the birthday of Shiv Sena founder Bal Thackeray.

The area became Maratha country when Chimaji Appa Peshwe (younger brother of Bajirao Peshwa the first) chased the Portuguese out from Vasai in 1737. The Marathas did not enter Bombay then because it belonged to the East India Company. To keep an eye on the activities of the British, the Marathas posted a small but effective naval fleet at Uran (which will come under the Third Mumbai), under admiral Kanhoji Angre, and later his sons.

When Maharashtra decided to create Navi Mumbai, CIDCO was entrusted with the work. The idea was to build a planned city on the mainland east of Mumbai, with self-contained zones offering educational institutions, markets, hospitals and other civic amenities.

What began as tentative steps with the development of Vashi—a suburb just across the harbour from Mumbai’s Mankhurd—today stretches from the shores of the creek all the way to neighbouring Thane and Panvel in Raigad district, spread across an area of 340sqkm.

Navi Mumbai was built from scratch as a structurally designed metropolitan centre based on the plans by the late architect Charles Correa. Other key figures behind its development included engineer and planner Shirish Patel and pioneering architect and city planner Pravina Mehta. It was, in many ways, their vision of a better Mumbai.

Correa had envisaged even shifting the Mantralaya, the administrative headquarters of the Maharashtra government, and other government offices to Navi Mumbai. Had it been implemented, Mumbai would have been significantly decongested, and Navi Mumbai’s stature might have increased manifold. But successive governments never agreed, and Navi Mumbai, in a way, remained Mumbai’s younger sibling.

Navi Mumbai remained a ghost town for many years and travel to Vashi used to be an ordeal till the Vashi creek bridge was built. There was no railway in Navi Mumbai at the time and one had to travel to Mankhurd by rail and then hop on to CIDCO’s green buses to reach Vashi. One could also take a train to Thane and access a CIDCO bus to Vashi or Belapur.

Much has changed over the years—from roads and flyovers to the expansion of the suburban railway system and the steadily growing metro network. The development of the Mumbai-Pune Expressway brought Navi Mumbai closer to Pune, further aiding its growth.

Parts of the region were already home to major chemical companies such as NOCIL, Herdillia Chemicals and BASF. Over time, as the government promoted Maharashtra as an information technology hub, services companies, software firms and educational centres set up shop in Navi Mumbai.

The establishment of the Jawaharlal Nehru Port, commissioned in 1989, paved the way for Navi Mumbai to become a logistics hub. Today, the city hosts a bevy of major companies—from Reliance Industries, which operates the Dhirubhai Knowledge City, to software services giants such as Accenture, Capgemini and L&T Infotech.

The Maharashtra government’s IT Policy is expected to give Navi Mumbai a further boost. The government has ambitious plans to position the city as India’s data centre hub. Given its favourable location on the western coast, Navi Mumbai already accounts for close to 60 per cent of India’s data centre capacity. A well-planned ecosystem, round-the-clock electricity, a skilled workforce and multiple international undersea cable landing points make it an attractive digital destination.

The Navi Mumbai International Airport has further enhanced the city’s appeal. The NMIA would be the so-called starting point of the Third Mumbai, which will be spread across Uran, Pen, Khalapur and Panvel taluks of Raigad district.

These taluks have a rich history of their own. Pen has historically been famous for its Lord Ganesh idols. Parvatibai, the wife of Peshwa Sadashivrao Bhau, who led the Maratha armies in the third battle of Panipat, originally belonged to the Kolhatkar family of ayurveda experts from Pen. Khalapur is the taluk where Netoji Palkar, the famous general of Shivaji, was born. The taluk also has Umberkhind, where a famous battle took place between Shivaji and Kartalab Khan, the general of Aurangzeb.

At Chirner in Uran tehsil, a forest satyagraha took place in the 1930s against the British. The British tried to suppress the satyagraha and ordered the police to open fire and many people died. Chirner will now be part of the Third Mumbai under the proposed Chirner-Sai-Karnala development project. Karnala is famous for its fort and bird sanctuary. Near Karnala is Shirdhon, the village of Vasudev Balvant Phadke, the famous revolutionary who is hailed as ‘Aadya Krantikarak’ (first revolutionary). His mansion in Shirdhon village has been converted into a memorial.

Chief Minister Fadnavis has also announced a new business district in the Third Mumbai, which will take shape as the Raigad-Pen smart city, much like the Bandra Kurla Complex, spread over 250 hectares. The land has been identified and all necessary permissions have been given. Investors from the US, the UAE, Singapore, Australia and the Netherlands have shown interest in investing and MoUs worth nearly Rs1 lakh crore rupees were signed recently at Davos. The smart city will be a joint venture between the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority (MMRDA) and a private company that has the land parcel and all necessary approvals.

Fadnavis also announced an innovation city in the Third Mumbai at Davos, which will be set up near the Navi Mumbai airport. It is expected to create an innovation ecosystem in the state and will have all the necessary plug and play facilities for innovators on 300 acres. “This will not just be an innovation hub, rather it will be a city which will host several AI and innovation hubs,” Fadnavis said. A memorandum of understanding has been signed between the government and ANSR, a global firm specialising in global capability centres (GCCs), to develop a dedicated GCC city. While ANSR will design and develop GCCs, identifying suitable land parcels and streamlining approvals and coordination between departments will be the government’s focus.

For decades, the city’s business district was concentrated in south Mumbai, much of it reclaimed land. The Bandra Kurla Complex was developed by MMRDA starting in 1977 on 370 hectares, though it was proposed in the late 1940s. Then, through the 1990s, marshland along the Mithi river was transformed into the sprawling BKC, now the nerve centre of India’s financial system, housing major banks, the National Stock Exchange of India and many key regulators.

In the years to come, Navi Mumbai will get its own business district in Kharghar, which has a suburban railway station. Spread across 155 hectares, it will mirror BKC and could strengthen Navi Mumbai’s position as the new growth hub of the metropolitan region.

No wonder Navi Mumbai is witnessing a real estate boom. Major development works, particularly the airport, have pushed land prices up by over 50 per cent in parts of the city. Housing prices have also risen between 20 and 40 per cent, according to property consultants. As more infrastructure takes shape, Navi Mumbai could finally emerge from Mumbai’s shadow and establish itself as the region’s primary centre of activity.

The Navi Mumbai airport, proposed by CIDCO in 1997, was planned for an initial annual capacity of 20 million passengers, with one operational terminal and runway, eventually scaling up to four terminals, an additional runway and a capacity of 90 million passengers.

“The Navi Mumbai International Airport is expected to unlock a multi-nodal growth belt from Navi Mumbai through Panvel to the Raigad district. This is likely to have a significant ripple effect across residential, commercial, retail and industrial asset classes,” said Anshuman Magazine of CBRE, a commercial real estate services and investment firm. The airport is located in Ulwe suburb, once a village in Raigad district.

Once the airport is fully operational, an aerocity will follow within a radius of 2.5km. There will be commercial complexes, hotels, residential areas, mixed-use entertainment zones and malls featuring leading brands. “The Navi Mumbai Aerocity Plan, backed by integrated infrastructure, seamless connectivity and proximity to a strong talent pool, positions the region as a strategic growth engine for MMR,” said Sanjay Dutt, CEO and MD, Tata Realty and Infrastructure. “Navi Mumbai currently houses nearly 22 million sqft of institutional office stock, and another 4 million sqft of new supply is expected by 2028, supported by an annual demand of 1.5 to 2 million sqft. The new airport will further strengthen this trajectory.”

The region is already witnessing the impact, with capital values projected to appreciate by around 3 per cent annually until 2027, particularly in the IT and commercial sectors. Dutt said the airport and aerocity project have sparked growing interest from BFSI, engineering, manufacturing and life sciences companies. As occupiers increasingly look beyond saturated micro-markets in Mumbai, the region offers a compelling value proposition—accessibility, scalability and a rich talent base.

Beyond the aerocity, about 4km from the airport, a Navi Mumbai International Education City, with student housing facilities for 80,000 will come up. A 300-acre parcel has been earmarked for this. “We have promised accommodation for 13,000 teachers,” said an official. “There will be common areas with auditoriums and recreational areas and 12 swimming pools.”

Each university will be allotted around 12 acres on a long lease of 30-40 years. This project is estimated to cost about Rs20,000 crore. Around seven universities from the UK, the US and Australia have already evinced interest in establishing centres, said the official. “The ministry of education has given them letter of intent to operate,” he said.

There are also plans to set up a 120-acre innovation city. A strong connection between industry and academia fosters research, innovation and employment. The hope is that different companies will establish their innovation ecosystems here, as the government can offer land at significantly lower rates. Sources said that 12 companies have signed up for the venture.

The government has set up an AI data centre park over 120 acres, and nearly 80 per cent of the allotment has been completed. Talks have been initiated with global players such as Warner Bros. to establish entertainment parks and resorts—a move to attract tourists, generate business and spur hotel development.

Raigad, with its vast land parcels and improving access to employment hubs, was well-positioned to host mid-income and premium residential developments, said Magazine of CBRE. “Its proximity to the new airport, Jawaharlal Nehru Port and the new expressways is expected to attract a diverse demography, from working professionals to entrepreneurs,” he said.

Raigad district is named after the Raigad Fort, the seat of Shivaji Maharaj’s empire. His coronation took place in Raigad in 1674. The fort, which is approximately 175km from Panvel, has the memorial of Shivaji Maharaj and his favourite dog, Waghya (tiger).

The Third Mumbai presents a transformative opportunity to reimagine how urban India grows. “With the airport as a nucleus and major transport linkages such as the Atal Setu and the coastal road connecting the region to Greater Mumbai, this corridor will naturally attract large-scale residential development,” said Dutt.

Importantly, he said, this would also help decentralise demand from core Mumbai and make home ownership more accessible without compromising on quality of life or connectivity.

What remains to be seen is whether Fadnavis’s ambitious plan—he is even planning a Fourth Mumbai near the proposed Vadhavan Port with another airport—will take shape as envisioned, or whether it will eventually become a congested, difficult-to-live-in metropolis on Mumbai’s outskirts.

third-mumbai-will-initially-attract-investment-worth-rs15-lakh-crore-cm-fadnavis

Sat Feb 28 16:33:22 IST 2026

Interview/ Devendra Fadnavis, chief minister, Maharashtra

Q/ What is the Third Mumbai project about?

We are developing the NAINA city (Navi Mumbai Airport Influence Notified Area) near the new airport. This city will be larger than Pune, and, with the exception of the National Capital Territory of Delhi, is the largest municipal corporation in terms of area. Pune covers 500sqkm; Third Mumbai will cover 575sqkm. Currently, 60 per cent of the country’s data centre capacity is being established in this area. We are building a GCC city, an edu-city, a sports city, a medi-city and an innovation city.

Q/ What about land acquisition?

CIDCO’s 40:60 land acquisition model is now well established (people who give land to CIDCO for infrastructure development get back 40 per cent as developed plots). People have realised that the value of the land they get quadruples. We have also implemented a pass-through mechanism—if an entity requires 100 acres, the government will acquire it, and the company will pay. For the innovation city, participants initially requested 300 acres, but we are targeting 1,000 acres. The edu-city will accommodate 1 lakh students, so we are acquiring 200 acres for it.

Q/ What about other projects?

We have started work on two ring roads in Pune—the inner and the outer. This will lead to a value creation of Rs2.5 lakh crore. Our goal is to create a GCC corridor from Third Mumbai to Pune. GCCs are the next wave after the IT boom, and 25 per cent of all GCCs in India are located in this region. We are developing a GCC city with MMRDA as the lead player and will soon announce significant GCC investments there.

Q/ How much investment do you foresee coming into the Navi Mumbai–Third Mumbai belt?

My estimate is that it will initially attract investments worth Rs15 lakh crore.

Q/ What about jobs?

I don’t have an exact figure right now, but the potential for job creation is huge.

Q/ You have also spoken about Fourth Mumbai; where will that be?

We are planning Fourth Mumbai around the Vadhavan port.

the-untapped-potential-of-navi-mumbai-the-bedroom-suburb-third-mumbai-cover

Sat Feb 28 16:32:33 IST 2026

Mumbai grew from seven islands to a megalopolis, but even today, its heart lies within the seven isles; everything that makes it India’s financial capital is located in the Island City. The rest of the urban sprawl, north of Mahim and east of Sion, is essentially a dormitory. Hence, nothing defines life in Mumbai as much as commuting time.

On average, Mumbaikars take an hour and a half commuting to their offices. And that’s a feat of unacknowledged endurance. This will take some explaining for the uninitiated who haven’t seen a Mumbai railway platform during rush hour.

Commuters lunge at approaching local trains even before they have come to a halt, elbowing out others and timing their leap to perfection. This requires the guts of a gladiator and the nimbleness of a gymnast. Millions of office-goers compete in this extreme sport twice a day, merely for a window seat.

If the rest of India is unaware of this sport, that’s because commuting doesn’t make news in Mumbai, except at the end of the year when the Government Railway Police adds up the deaths on the tracks. Last year, the figure was 2,287; six per day.

The four metro lines that are operational and the first phase of the coastal road have made little difference for Mumbaikars whose lot will improve only if there are more trains or more jobs in the distant suburbs, including Navi Mumbai.

Mumbai’s roads are notoriously narrow, besides being cordoned off for years by the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority (MMRDA) for metro lines or dug up most of the year for utilities by a municipal corporation so inept that it could not get the two ends of the Andheri bridge to meet. It takes three hours to cover 20km from Bandra to Borivali by the Western Express Highway in the morning and the evening. In that time, one can reach Pune from Navi Mumbai.

But if you survive all this, Mumbai reveals its treasure: a cosmopolitan city, one that recognises merit and rewards your talent, stimulates your mind and surprises you with its limitless possibilities. Rags-to-riches stories abound. Mumbai is still the City of Gold for those who can spot an opportunity, be it selling bhel puri on the beach or collecting scrap.

Politicians and planners of the 1960s realised that in time, overcrowding would drag Mumbai down. That’s how Navi Mumbai, a planned city across the Thane creek, was conceived. The aim was to create a counter-magnet to Mumbai. In this brave new city, residents would walk or cycle to work or shop in seven spacious self-contained nodes separated from each other by forested patches.

In 1970, the City and Industrial Development Corporation (CIDCO) was set up and tasked with creating Navi Mumbai. Half a century later, the largest planned city in the world has a mixed report card. The quality of life here is appreciably better than that in Mumbai, but half the working population of the city still commutes 30km to Mumbai. The late J.B. D’Souza, a prime mover of the idea of Navi Mumbai as the state’s chief secretary, was to later famously dismiss it as the “bedroom suburb” of Mumbai.

Navi Mumbai, though, is a pensioner’s paradise with senior citizens’ recreation centres in most of its 175 civic gardens, notably Kharghar’s 290-acre Central Park, Nerul’s Wonders Park and Vashi’s Mini Seashore. The Parsik Hills and the Kharghar Plateau are reminiscent of Mumbai’s Sanjay Gandhi National Park. Bird-watchers have renamed Navi Mumbai as “Flamingo City” because of the several roosting sites of this migratory bird in the city’s unbroken belt of mangroves.

Things could have been even better if Kharghar’s Pandavkada waterfall had been developed as a tourist spot. But, Maharashtra’s second-highest free-falling cataract at 107m is out of bounds for the public.

Commuting in and out of Navi Mumbai is easy as it is connected by rail to Thane on one end and to Uran on the other, and soon will be to Karjat. The one thing that rankles is the lack of a metro link to Mumbai, which the other distant suburbs have. Unlike in other townships, water is plentiful here, thanks to the Morbe dam owned by the Navi Mumbai Municipal Corporation.

Other factors that make it a liveable city are uninterrupted power, piped gas, footpaths and covered drains, reasonably good schools and colleges, neighbourhood shopping centres, malls and multiplexes. The garbage heaps that mar other cities of Maharashtra are absent in Navi Mumbai, consistently ranked as India’s third-cleanest city in the Swachh Survekshan.

However, Navi Mumbai needs to improve its affordable housing stock, bus transport, public hospitals and sports facilities; it has just one public swimming pool. Despite the greenery, the AQI is as bad as that in Mumbai owing to unchecked pollution from the huge MIDC industrial belt, dust from illegal quarries and construction sites.

Of late, Navi Mumbai is stealing some of the spotlight from its glamorous twin with the Navi Mumbai International Airport (NMIA) finally taking off and the 22km Atal Setu bringing it within an hour’s drive from South Mumbai.

Navi Mumbai is half the size of Mumbai, with just 7 per cent of Mumbai’s population. It occupies 344sqkm and has an estimated 1.64 million residents to Mumbai’s 603sqkm and an estimated 22 million. The figures speak of its untapped potential.

It is perplexing, then, as to why the government is talking of a Third Mumbai. It will be thrice the size of Mumbai, some 20km southeast of Navi Mumbai, including Panvel, Ulwe, Taloja and Uran. As it is, CIDCO has been struggling for the last 12 years with the Navi Mumbai Airport Influence Notified Area (NAINA), the aerotropolis planned over 300sqkm. Despite the hype, townships in Panvel by Hiranandani, Godrej and Wadhwa on the old Mumbai-Pune highway remain sparsely occupied.

When the Island City still rules, and when Navi Mumbai remains a bedroom suburb, Third Mumbai is a faraway dream. At best, it will remain a destination for real estate speculators.

Anil Singh is a journalist who grew up in Mumbai and relocated to Navi Mumbai 20 years ago.

third-mumbai-will-be-much-bigger-than-what-mumbai-is-now-vijay-singhal

Sat Feb 28 16:31:51 IST 2026

Interview/ Vijay Singhal, managing director, City and Industrial Development Corporation (CIDCO)

Q/ How is land acquisition being done for the Navi Mumbai Airport Influence Notified Area (NAINA) city project?

The land acquisition model here is participatory. We are giving 40 per cent land back to [landowners] after development. Of the 60 per cent with us, only 15 per cent will be used for growth centres. Rest of the land will go for either roads or green spaces.

Q/ What will be the cost of developing this entire city?

Our preliminary estimate is Rs25,000 to Rs30,000 crore. But this may go up. Road works amounting to Rs8,000 crore have been awarded. Then there is river beautification and development of social facilities. So it could be more than Rs30,000 crore.

But when this infrastructure is developed, we would start selling plots. Some companies will have their headquarters. There will be amphitheatres, malls, shopping complexes and MICE (meetings, incentives, conferences and exhibitions) centres.

So we will be able to generate money. This model is self sustainable.

Q/ Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis has talked about an education city. Is it also part of NAINA?

Education city is a different project. It was the chief minister’s vision. It will have educational institutes of foreign origin; at least 10 foreign universities in one place.

The idea was, why not have these educational institutes here rather than have our children go abroad? Why not have foreign universities here providing world-class education at one-third of the price?

For the education city, 100 hectares in our possession have already been earmarked.

It is in the 3-4km radius of the international airport, adjoining the national highway, and within 10-15 minutes of the aerocity. It will also be just about 20 minutes from the upcoming international corporate park at Kharghar in Navi Mumbai.

We are also coming up with a medi-city on 100 acres. And there will be an 18-hole golf course spread over 100 hectares.

Five LOIs (letters of intent) have already been given—[from] the University of Aberdeen, the University of York, the University of Western Australia and the University of Bristol; there will also be an Italian design institute.

We are also in talks with Oxford and Berkeley.

Q/ The chief minister also spoke about global capability centres (GCCs).

GCCs are also one of the things we are focusing a lot on. The government has already earmarked land for it. We are also trying to find land within the CIDCO area.

Q/ Could you tell us more about the infrastructure development in the region?

We are coming up with a new metro that will connect both the Navi Mumbai airport and Mumbai’s Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport. The proposal has already gone to the cabinet. The metro will connect to the rest of the metros in Mumbai. We are also developing the Thane-Navi Mumbai International Airport Road.

The difference between Mumbai and Navi Mumbai is that Navi Mumbai is planned, and has more open space, play areas and greenery. Third Mumbai will be bigger and better.

The concept of medi-city is to have world-class facilities in one place. It will not be just one hospital. There will be medical college, cluster of hospitals, nursing centres and wellness centres. Some of the land for this has been acquired; some are in the process of being acquired. Just like world-class universities, we want to bring world-class hospitals, too.

We have earmarked approximately 95-100 hectares. Half of it is in possession. Acquisition is also on for a sports city. We are in talks with renowned consultants to develop the sports city.

Q/ There was some talk about international corporate parks.

We are coming up with an international corporate park at Khargar. It will be like a new BKC (Bandra Kurla Complex), spread across 155 hectares, near the golf course.

Like in BKC, you will see corporate houses to high-end residential buildings. The Jio World Convention Centre is also there.

Q/ How will you take care of water supply for a city of this scale?

We have already planned the water supply for the next 30 years. At Hetwane Dam, water supply augmentation has already started. Work amounting to Rs3,000 crore is already going on. It will be completed by 2028-2029.

The Balganga Dam had some issues earlier, but they have now been resolved. That will have a capacity of the around 250mld (million litres per day).

There will be a third dam—Kondhane Dam—which will have a capacity of 350mld. Work order worth Rs1,300 crore has already been issued. It will be completed in four years.

Q/ So this new city is likely to be bigger than Mumbai itself.

This will be much bigger than what Mumbai is right now, and I would say much better planned. It is spread over 344sqkm in Uran, Panvel and Pen tehsils. This is the fastest growing city at present.

fresh-start-in-dhaka-how-tarique-rahmans-bnp-govt-is-reshaping-ties-with-india

Sat Feb 21 15:32:49 IST 2026

On a charged evening in Basabo, home to Dhaka’s first Buddhist monastery, a candidate stood before a swelling crowd and fought back tears just days before Bangladesh went to polls. Habibur Rashid Habib of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party—his salt-and-pepper beard and sharp features lending him an air older than his fifty-odd years—recalled his arrest in 2014. He spoke of days of interrogation and torture. Yet, rather than vow vengeance against his political opponents, he called for the restoration of democratic rights, political unity and the secular spirit of the nation. “I came home injured,” he told the crowd, his voice wavering as he described the arrest. “The first call I received was from bhaiya (Tarique Rahman). At that moment, my pain vanished. I knew he was with me.”

Rahman, who spent 17 years in exile, commands intense loyalty among the BNP’s rank and file. That sentiment is echoed by people like Rabiul Islam Nayan, a Jubo Dal (the BNP’s youth wing) leader who recently broke down during a podcast while describing Rahman’s leadership. “It is hard to put into words,” Nayan said, “how he managed to look after us and our families from far away.”

Today, the mood within the BNP after winning a two-thirds majority in the February 12 elections is to turn away from hostilities. It wants to focus on building roads, bridges, health centres, educational institutions and jobs, and on improving the day-to-day lives of people—outlined by Rahman as “The Plan”. In neighbourhoods such as Basabo, which has some of the worst roads in the country, chronic infrastructure deficits are a recurring complaint. Habib, who is now state minister for roads, transport and bridges in Rahman’s cabinet of 25 ministers and 24 state ministers, is expected to find a solution.

The BNP’s stated ambition to write a new growth story for a stable, sovereign and reform-oriented Bangladesh presents Delhi a moment of opportunity. India considers a stable Bangladesh firmly in its national interest.

India shares its longest land boundary with Bangladesh—longer than its border with China—underscoring both the scale and the sensitivity of the frontier. Historically, India and Bangladesh have shared close ties forged during Bangladesh’s liberation from Pakistan in 1971, laying the foundation for a relationship that has largely withstood political fluctuations over the decades. There have been ups and downs, but the broader relationship has endured.

The BNP was previously in power twice, from 1991 to 1996 and from 2001 to 2006, and Delhi worked with those administrations. Even when Sheikh Hasina and her Awami League were in office in the late 1990s, Indian diplomats cultivated ties with Rahman, reportedly much to Hasina’s displeasure. As one retired diplomat said, “After Hasina lost the election in 2001, she started blaming India for her loss.” Senior Awami League functionaries at the time suggested that, instead of introspection, blaming India became an easy way out.

By then, the rawness with which sections of the BNP had viewed India since the assassination of its founder, Ziaur Rahman, had faded considerably. Sustained engagement by Delhi and political recalibration within the BNP—whose chairperson Khaleda Zia was reassessing Dhaka’s regional compulsions after her 1996 defeat—contributed to this shift. It was during this phase that Rahman realised the practical necessity of stable ties with India.

Rahman, now 60, prepares to lead Bangladesh as a more seasoned figure capable of balancing domestic pressures, party expectations, constitutional constraints and the delicate equilibrium with India. For India, this presents an opportunity to recalibrate by moving beyond personality-driven engagements to prioritising people’s interests, aligned with the BNP’s “Bangladesh first” pitch, where Delhi and Dhaka can move forward together in foreign policy, security, trade and people-to-people engagement. “Democracy does not consolidate because rulers change. It stabilises only when institutions function and there is balance between authority, scrutiny, mandate and accountability,” said Rashed Al Mahmud Titumir, adviser to the prime minister.

Economic reconstruction

Bangladesh’s economy is widely acknowledged to be under significant strain. Public debt has risen over the past decade, and many of the loans taken over the past decade are long term commitments. Hasina pursued large-scale projects such as the Padma bridge despite the World Bank raising concerns about economic feasibility. When the World Bank withdrew financing, her government borrowed heavily from multiple sources. While the bridge is widely seen as a landmark achievement, the cost has left a strain on the economy.

China has already stepped in with fresh financial commitments and if India does not participate constructively in Bangladesh’s economic reconstruction, others will. “Bangladesh will naturally diversify its foreign policy options. It may engage Pakistan; it will engage China. There is no need for hyper reactions. An economy that has been financially drained and destabilised will seek help wherever it can,” said Jawhar Sircar, former Rajya Sabha member hailing from Kolkata. “That is pragmatic politics.”

Yet, pragmatic relations that fail to deliver tangible benefits to ordinary people can prove counterproductive. Both Delhi and Dhaka have lessons to draw from recent months. While deteriorating cross-border ties may not significantly affect India’s macroeconomy, it has had a direct impact on communities in West Bengal and along the border. For instance, medical access was disrupted after visa restrictions were tightened. For decades, Kolkata functioned as a medical hub for Bangladeshis. Entire hospital clusters, nursing homes, guest houses and small businesses grew around this demand. “The infrastructure was built keeping that demand in mind,” Sircar said. As diplomatic relations deteriorated, cross-border trade that sustained livelihoods also slowed.

There are both formal and informal trading points along the border. “People share deep cultural and familial links, which explains the existence of ‘border haats’ (temporary markets), which is an inter-governmental arrangement overseen by the Border Security Force and Border Guard Bangladesh in their respective areas,” said D.K. Pathak, former director general of the BSF. “People bring their goods and set up stalls inside. Poor villagers from the Indian side would bring their products and Bangladeshis would buy them and vice versa.”

The political impact of strained relations was visible in the elections. In several border districts, the Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami performed strongly. “Look at the electoral map. Almost all the seats the Jamaat has secured are in border districts. That tells us something about how bad relations filter down to the grassroots,” said Sircar. “We need to avoid projecting ourselves as a ‘big brother’, and only then the resentment will die down.”

Another reason India has a stake in Bangladesh’s growth story is the need for institutional stability that can drive regional investment, economic integration and restore democratic confidence in south Asia in a rapidly evolving global order.

Communication is key

After Hasina’s ouster in July 2024, much of the blame for her excesses was redirected at India. The reason was that the BNP, the Jamaat and the newly formed National Citizen Party found themselves bracketed with the interim government amid a growing anti-Hasina sentiment that often translated into an anti-India posture. In Delhi, foreign policy makers were careful to tread on what appeared to be a minefield of conspiracy theories and distrust.

With the BNP’s victory and the restoration of parliamentary democracy, there is now an opportunity to engage parliamentarians and civil society in a more meaningful dialogue to avoid a repeat of unchecked anti-India and anti-Bangladesh rhetoric during moments of strain in both countries. “We need to stop exaggeration and imagination. Sustainable hostility cannot be a policy,” said Asif Bin Ali, a doctoral researcher at Georgia State University. “Symbolism matters. Sending the Lok Sabha speaker [for Rahman’s swearing-in ceremony] was a good decision from the Indian government.”

All eyes are also on the new parliament in Dhaka, where the Jamaat and the NCP now sit in opposition. Since the student-led protests of 2024, constitutional redesign, political reform and electoral integrity have dominated public debate. In that context, a responsible parliamentary opposition is essential for a stable Bangladesh. “It is also a chance for the opposition not to be an accessory, rather a structural pillar in its growth story,” said Titumir. In the past, the opposition existed but rarely functioned meaningfully in parliament. “Political contestation had repeatedly moved to the streets but the July charter marked a historic recognition that democracy cannot endure without an empowered opposition,” he said. “A responsible opposition does not merely resist. It offers alternatives and demonstrates readiness to govern.”

As Dhaka works to implement its vision of parliamentary democracy, Delhi may need to recognise that much of the recent criticism stemmed from the perception that India had backed one political party too heavily. This is an opportunity for broader engagement with all political actors, including the Jamaat.

Interestingly, Bangladesh’s voters have sent nuanced messages. They did not hand a sweeping mandate to Gen Z activists. The Jamaat performed strongly in some border regions. The BNP won on a reform charter. The interim government’s referendum also secured a ‘yes’ vote. “Everyone has found a voice in Bangladesh today. So while an anti-India wave may persist for sometime, recent statements by Muhammad Yunus on seven sisters of India’s northeast are best ignored,” said Asif.

Incidentally, Yunus’s parting speech was reportedly drafted by an anthropologist in his team. “There is a saying that if you want to destabilise a country, you send trained anthropologists—they can deconstruct everything. If you want to build a country, you send economists and communication experts—they design systems,” said a seasoned diplomat.

According to former R&AW special secretary Amitabh Mathur, the interim government that lacked a public mandate limited the scope for long-term engagement. “Any statements made by the former adviser are best ignored now. The focus is on de-securitising the relationship and we are hopeful of the BNP government ensuring peace and security in the region.”

Securing people to secure ties

With a new BNP government in place, Mathur said, India and Bangladesh were part of a broader churn in south Asia, where older dispensations had given way to new governments over time. “The BNP is not the same as it was in 2001. The onus is on both countries to realise the new reality.”

During the first tenure of Khaleda Zia, several northeastern insurgent groups consolidated their presence in Bangladesh, particularly in the Chittagong Hill Tracts. These included the United Liberation Front of Asom, the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (Isak-Muivah), the People’s Liberation Army of Manipur and the United National Liberation Front. These groups used Bangladeshi territory for camps and logistical support, creating serious security challenges for India’s northeast.

There were also concerns at the time regarding the activities of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence, which was believed to have re-established networks in Bangladesh. Reports suggested linkages between ISI operatives and certain insurgent elements. Additionally, after 2001, Indian agencies raised alarms about infiltration routes allegedly used by operatives of the Lashkar-e-Taiba. Bangladesh was seen as a relatively easier transit corridor for individuals seeking to enter India while avoiding the heavily monitored western border. From India’s standpoint, these were not minor issues. The expectation has consistently been that Bangladesh would remain sensitive to India’s security concerns, particularly regarding insurgency in the northeast and the activities of Pakistan-backed terror networks.

A second area of concern involves strategic balancing and external influence. While India itself is expanding economic engagement with China, the scale and nature of Chinese projects in Bangladesh warrant close scrutiny, according to security experts. Beijing has maintained strong engagement with both Awami League and BNP governments, and several infrastructure and strategic projects have been initiated over the years. India does not object to Bangladesh pursuing diversified partnerships, but developments with potential security implications—especially in ports, defence procurement or dual-use infrastructure—inevitably attract attention. “The concern is not commercial trade,” said a security official, “but long term security implications in a region where trust and transparency are critical.”

A third and more recent concern relates to the activities of certain extremist groups operating within Bangladesh that have regional spillover potential. While these groups may not be directly targeting India, Delhi would prefer Dhaka to rein in elements capable of fuelling instability or radicalisation in the wider region.

There is also an opportunity to revisit the Rohingya policy, including proposals such as a humanitarian corridor into Myanmar. Any such initiative would lie at the intersection of humanitarian need, great-power interest and regional security concerns. It is true that the new foreign minister Khalilur Rahman, in his earlier role as national security adviser in the interim government, advocated solutions that drew in American support. “That may not disappear and Washington will remain an important actor,” said Asif. “Therefore, if Dhaka wants to move in solving the Rohingya crisis, it will have to bring Delhi, and ideally ASEAN partners, into the conversation early.” Joint monitoring, clear rules of engagement and verifiable end-use mechanisms could reduce the security anxieties of neighbours while addressing the desperate situation of the Rohingyas, he said.

In other words, the new government has a chance to inject fresh energy into the management of security concerns while balancing political responsibilities with strategic realities. Solutions must be practical rather than alarmist. Rahman is understood to have already conveyed assurances to India. When ambiguity and suspicion are replaced by predictability and trust, India can always win back Bangladesh. All it requires is a firm handshake.

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Sat Feb 21 15:30:33 IST 2026

TAWANG

Interview/ Kiren Rijiju, Union minister of parliamentary affairs

THE SILIGURI CORRIDOR, also known as the Chicken’s Neck, has long been regarded as one of India’s most vulnerable strategic chokepoints. This narrow strip of land, wedged between Nepal, Bhutan and Bangladesh, is the only land bridge connecting the northeast to the rest of the country. For decades, strategists have warned of its exposure to potential Chinese advances from the Chumbi Valley, where the borders of India, Bhutan and China converge.

In recent months, remarks from certain sections of Bangladesh’s erstwhile interim government about the corridor’s perceived vulnerability have reignited debate over its security. The discussion has gathered momentum even as China continues to assert claims over parts of Arunachal Pradesh.

With the new government led by the Bangladesh Nationalist Party now in office in Dhaka, New Delhi is watching developments closely. In an exclusive interview with THE WEEK, Union Minister of Parliamentary Affairs Kiren Rijiju, who hails from Arunachal Pradesh, dismisses alarmism. He says India’s eastern defences have been comprehensively strengthened over the past decade, from enhanced military deployments and upgraded border infrastructure to the repopulation of frontier villages. “There is no need to worry about Chicken’s Neck. Our security posture is stronger than ever before,” he says. Excerpts from the interview:

Q/ How do you see the recent veiled references to the Siliguri corridor becoming a security flashpoint?

There is no immediate cause for concern. Since 2014, under the leadership of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, India’s security doctrine has undergone a strategic shift. All policies now factor in national security considerations. Border areas that were once vulnerable have been strengthened, both militarily and through infrastructure development. The Siliguri corridor is well protected, and our formations there are formidable.

Q/ What are the key changes on the ground in border regions?

One major change is the Vibrant Villages Programme, under which border villages are treated as the “first villages” of India. Earlier, migration and thinning of the population were serious concerns. People left in search of better education, health care and livelihood, leaving border areas sparsely populated. That created vulnerability. Now, roads, electricity, water supply, mobile connectivity and economic opportunities are being ensured so that residents can stay and thrive. A stable local population strengthens national security.

Q/ How would you describe India’s military posture along the China border today?

It is no longer defensive. Deployment is layered, intense and modernised. The Army presence is strong, supported by advanced equipment and surveillance. Border guarding forces are fully active. Compared to 1962, when India was overrun in several sectors, the situation today is entirely different. Preparedness levels are high, and vigilance is constant.

Q/ There have been reports of strengthened deployments in the Siliguri corridor.

Strengthening deployments is part of a broader strategic recalibration after 2014. The posture has shifted from reactive to proactive. Infrastructure for defence and civilian life has expanded simultaneously. There is no specific new threat driving panic. Rather, it is a matter of long-term preparedness. There is no need to worry about Chicken’s Neck. Our security posture is stronger than ever.

Q/ In Parliament, tribute was paid to former Bangladesh prime minister Khaleda Zia. How do you view that in the context of bilateral relations?

That falls under foreign policy, which is handled by the external affairs ministry. From a security standpoint, India remains confident and fully prepared.

Q/ China continues renaming places in Arunachal Pradesh. Does that affect India’s position?

Not at all. Renaming exercises do not alter ground realities. People in Arunachal Pradesh remain deeply connected to their identity and traditional names. Such statements from China have no impact on our approach.

Q/ There have been instances of our youth going missing near the border.

The line of actual control is undefined in several stretches. Local hunters sometimes stray across unknowingly in difficult terrain. These incidents occur because of geography, not because of any systemic security lapse.

can-india-and-bangladesh-repair-their-strained-relationship

Sat Feb 21 15:29:55 IST 2026

THE INSTALLATION OF a popular government in Dhaka provides an opportunity for a reset in India-Bangladesh ties. Both countries must realise that there is no return to the close friendship of the Sheikh Hasina era. India would not want another security situation to emerge in the northeast, and Bangladesh is deeply tied to India for trade, transit and energy. Prolonged friction with India will rapidly raise Bangladesh’s strategic and economic costs.

As we assess the future trajectory of bilateral relations, both countries must seriously reflect on the reasons for the rapid deterioration in ties. In this context, five lessons stand out.

First, be sensitive to core concerns. Muhammad Yunus’s turn to an India-sceptical, China-Pakistan-leaning policy was too abrupt and predictably triggered concerns in Delhi. There were also very provocative statements on the northeast that further hardened India’s stance. India misread the depth of anti-Hasina sentiment in Bangladesh, and her statements from Indian soil were seen as an attempt to destabilise the government in Dhaka. With core concerns unaddressed, every small action led to a downward spiral in ties. While Bangladesh is free to determine its foreign policy, it must avoid any overcorrection that impinges on Indian security sensitivities.

Second, do not allow public sentiment to drive policy. In his meeting with Yunus, Prime Minister Narendra Modi specifically pointed out that rhetoric that vitiates the environment is best avoided. However, media narratives have raised tempers on both sides, with frequent protests around diplomatic missions leading to the suspension of visa services. The removal of a Bangladeshi cricketer from the Indian Premier League was the result of a social media campaign in India and prompted the Bangladesh cricket team to refuse to travel to India for the T20 World Cup. In the age of social media, popular sentiment cannot be ignored, but mutual concerns are better addressed through diplomatic channels rather than maximalist public statements.

Third, there is a need to guard against extremism. The attacks on minorities in Bangladesh were a continuous irritant in bilateral ties under the Yunus leadership. Given past history, there are genuine concerns in India about Indian insurgent groups finding shelter in Bangladesh and radical Islamist forces gaining traction within the country. If extremism develops strong roots in Bangladesh, there is a clear danger of its spillover across the border. Bangladesh has prided itself on a syncretic culture, and its erosion would be destabilising not only domestically but also for the region.

Fourth, policy must outlive personalities. One stark observation from this period is that a change in regime led to a complete reversal in Bangladesh’s foreign policy. Yunus, heading an unelected government, decided on a course of action that alienated India entirely. Delhi is also guilty of investing too heavily in Hasina, which was read in Bangladesh as a backing of the old order that had lost domestic legitimacy. Both countries must now frame policy from a perspective that looks beyond personalities to long-term national interests.

Finally, exploit the military-to-military relationship. Even during the period of strained relations, military contacts continued. During his annual press conference last month, Chief of Army Staff General Upendra Dwivedi said that military channels were open with the Bangladesh military to avoid any “miscommunication or misunderstanding”.

The Bangladesh army is a major player in the country. While it tacitly supported the interim government, it also nudged Yunus to hold elections in 18 months. Regular military contacts establish an institutional relationship that reduces the risk of diplomatic tensions spiralling out of control.

The Yunus period showed how quickly bilateral ties can unravel when they depend on personalities and narratives. A BNP-led government offers a window for some stabilisation if short-term political signalling catering to domestic constituencies can be replaced by respect for each other’s core concerns.

The writer is a retired Indian Army officer who served on both the northern and eastern borders. He retired as Army Commander, Northern Command

bangladesh-at-a-crossroads-can-india-counter-the-rising-islamist-tide

Sat Feb 21 15:29:19 IST 2026

WHEN SHEIKH HASINA was forced out of office, it appeared to signify—to paraphrase Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s words—‘a rupture not a transition’.

The recent elections, though, suggest that as more things happen, the less they seem to change. The revolving door syndrome by which the Awami League is replaced by the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, and vice-versa, saw the latter return to power with a landslide victory.

This was a flawed election by any reckoning, considering that the Awami League was prevented from contesting, but a welcome aspect was that the fundamentalist Jamaat-e-Islami was roundly defeated.

It had been widely speculated that the elections would bring Islamist zealots to power, further exacerbating the recent anti-India slant in Bangladesh politics. The BNP’s victory is hence welcome, but given that its hostility towards India is only marginally less than its antipathy towards Hasina, India is hardly on a good wicket. The Jamaat-led alliance secured 77 seats, its highest tally, posing an overwhelming threat to India in future.

Ever since the religion first came to the region in the 13th century, the eastern part of (united) Bengal has been a bastion of Islam. With the partition in 1947, East Pakistan tilted further towards Islam. And even though East Pakistan and West Bengal revere the iconic poet Kazi Nazrul Islam as one of their own, their divide only seemed to widen over the years. Since the assassination of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 1975, relations between India and Bangladesh have been a roller-coaster ride. It is only during Hasina’s regime that the neighbours seemed to act with a common purpose, including that of keeping Islamist zealots at bay and preventing Pakistan from fanning anti-India feelings.

It was, hence, hardly surprising that within months of the Hasina regime’s fall, Bangladesh saw a sharp revival of Islamist extremist tendencies. Given the past record of the BNP, it is more than likely that it could go this way. The new government could also be inclined to strengthen its friendship with Pakistan and China to restrict India’s influence in South Asia.

Bangladesh stands at a crossroads today. While Hasina has much to answer for her heavy handed approach towards dissent, India, for its part, cannot avoid sharing the blame for the present state of Bangladesh-India relations. Following the assassination of Sheikh Mujibur, India had tried to assist the new country, though not always with success. More recently, however, this policy seemed to have ‘withered on the vine’. Consequently, India could proffer little advice and succour as the uprising took on an increasingly anti-Hasina and an anti-Hindu stand.

This has produced a widening ‘credibility gap’ between India and a post-Hasina Bangladesh. If the true test of diplomacy lies in being able to convince a friendly neighbour on how to manage a difficult situation, then India clearly failed to anticipate the seriousness of the situation and to suitably advise Hasina to modify her policies. It reflects poorly on India’s understanding of a situation that prevailed in its immediate neighbourhood.

The past cannot be resurrected or corrected. For now, India has the responsibility—both to itself and to the region—to act with greater understanding of the forces at work. Notwithstanding India’s grandstanding on occasion, it stands relatively isolated as of now, including in Asia. The recent US-Pakistan axis, the current China-Bangladesh-Pakistan linkages, China’s growing importance across East and Southeast Asia, and its less than friendly relations with India, all cast a shadow over the region and the latest events in Bangladesh have muddied the waters further. India, therefore, needs to be on guard and handle the situation in Bangladesh with care.

Establishing a proper modus-vivendi with the new BNP government is most important. China has already established itself as an important ally, and while this is largely evident in matters relating to trade and commerce, the former views Bangladesh as an ally in furthering its ambitions in South Asia. India has to act quickly before China consolidates this process.

What should, however, be of far greater concern is how to stem an Islamist tide that is sweeping across the Middle East and several parts of Asia and Africa. The right-wing extremist Islamist movement has steadily gained strength in recent years. Preventing Bangladesh from being drawn into the vortex of the Islamist revolution is vitally important for India’s future. It is extremist Islam rather than China, or the remnants of northeastern tribal groups, that pose a longer term challenge to India’s future. For the present, how to checkmate the extremist Islam torrent should be India’s primary concern.

How the situation in Bangladesh evolves may well be the key to India’s future. Properly orchestrated diplomatic steps and an ability ‘to see with the mind’s eye’ are important. India need not remain captive to Hasina; it is important to reach out to different segments of Bangladesh politicians, except the extremist fringe, to ensure a friendly Bangladesh. Wise heads in Delhi should try and shape a policy that would benefit India, Bangladesh and the region as a whole.

The writer is former director, Intelligence Bureau, former national security adviser, and former governor of West Bengal

foreign-policy-under-bnp-will-be-pragmatic-dr-ziauddin-hyder

Thu Feb 26 14:51:01 IST 2026

Interview/ Dr Ziauddin Hyder, adviser to Tarique Rahman, prime minister of Bangladesh

BANGLADESH’S NEW POLITICAL chapter, following the Bangladesh Nationalist Party’s sweeping electoral victory, is framed by promises of structural reform, institutional rebuilding and a recalibrated foreign policy. The party has committed to constitutional changes that rebalance executive power, strengthen judicial independence and safeguard electoral integrity. It pledges youth-centred governance, administrative accountability and economic modernisation, while seeking pragmatic, balanced relations with India, China and Pakistan under a “Bangladesh First” principle. In an exclusive interview, Dr Ziauddin Hyder says the focus now is on delivering measurable reforms and restoring public trust. Excerpts:

Q/ Rebuilding institutions after years of unrest is a significant challenge. How will the BNP restore confidence?

It is an uphill task. Over the years, institutional integrity weakened and public trust in law enforcement, the judiciary, media independence and administrative systems suffered. Rebuilding confidence will require time, patience, transparency and sustained public engagement. The BNP enters this phase with strong popular support, which provides an opportunity to rebuild institutions in partnership with citizens. Communication will be central to this effort. Parliamentarians must serve as ambassadors of reform within their constituencies, explaining changes, listening to concerns and ensuring accountability. Reform cannot succeed unless people understand and trust the process.

Q/ How do you see relations with the opposition parties like the Jamaat-e-Islami and the NCP evolving?

We remain optimistic. The BNP is a pro-democratic party and believes in constructive engagement. The opposition has a responsibility to act rationally and contribute to national development. One may support the BNP or oppose it politically, but Bangladesh must remain the highest priority. A functioning democracy depends on healthy debate, accountability and the ability of political actors to rise above partisan interests in moments of national importance.

Q/ How did the youth, who were highly visible in the 2024 student-led protests, shape this election?

For many young voters, this was the first election in years in which they felt their vote truly mattered. Their participation was notable and reflected a desire for meaningful change. The BNP has consistently emphasised a youth-centric development model, recognising that nearly 45 per cent of the population represents a demographic dividend. The election campaign had a specific focus on youth. For example, Tarique Rahman led a youth policy dialogue through a series of innovative town hall-style engagements titled “The Plan”. A nationwide reels competition and another creative initiative, “Letters to Tarique Rahman”, were also launched, providing young people with opportunities to share their ideas and opinions on the eight policy areas spearheaded by the BNP.

Young people must be integrated into governance as active partners. This includes reforming education to meet modern demands, strengthening environmental protection, modernising economic structures, reinforcing institutional frameworks and nurturing value-based social development. Youth are not merely beneficiaries of policy decisions; they are stakeholders in shaping the country’s trajectory.

Q/ Did the traditional Awami League voters shift towards the BNP?

Survey data indicated that over 60 per cent of voters supported the BNP. Many individuals who may not traditionally align with the party appear to have prioritised national interest over partisan identity. When voters perceive that their preferred political force is not effectively contesting or offering a viable path forward, they often cast their votes based on broader considerations of stability and reform. That shift reflects a wider aspiration for national unity and progress.

Q/ How do you see relations with India evolving?

India is Bangladesh’s largest neighbour, and the two countries share deep historical, cultural, economic and educational ties. At the same time, certain unresolved issues remain, including border management and water-sharing agreements such as the Teesta. Our guiding principle is “Bangladesh First”. We seek balanced, forward-looking bilateral partnerships not only with India but with all neighbouring countries. Regional platforms such as SAARC must be revitalised to enhance cooperation. We support stronger regional connectivity and believe that constructive engagement can help address longstanding concerns. At the same time, we are committed to strengthening domestic water management projects to ensure agricultural sustainability and ecological balance.

Q/ What about relations with China and Pakistan?

Pre-election meetings with foreign diplomats, including representatives from neighbouring countries, were largely introductory in nature. As the government becomes fully operational and domestic priorities are consolidated, structured bilateral engagements will follow. Foreign policy under the BNP will be pragmatic, balanced and guided by national interest rather than ideological alignment.

Q/ Will there be continuity in Khaleda Zia’s legacy under Tarique Rahman’s leadership?

There will certainly be continuity in terms of core principles. Khaleda Zia’s legacy is rooted in a commitment to democracy, national sovereignty and institutional reform. Many of the reform initiatives currently being implemented, including Vision 2030 and the 31-point framework, originated under her leadership. Tarique Rahman carries forward those foundational values while also representing a generational shift. His leadership reflects both continuity and evolution, retaining the party’s nationalist and democratic commitments while emphasising modernisation, structural reform and implementation.

This moment is not about symbolism or rhetoric. Citizens are looking for measurable progress and tangible results. Under Tarique Rahman’s leadership, the focus will be on delivering reforms that strengthen institutions and move Bangladesh towards a stable and prosperous future.

a-vote-for-1971-how-bengali-nationalism-secured-bnps-election-win

Sat Feb 21 15:27:38 IST 2026

ON THE MORNING of February 12, Bangladesh stood at a crossroads, facing a split mirror. On one side was an image of disrupted nationalism, a cul-de-sac created by a small tribe of activists propelled into temporary prominence by turbulent circumstances, who sought a false dichotomy between Bengali and Bangladeshi, and distorted faith to challenge culture as a gene of identity. Their political spearhead was a collation of self-appointed guardians of God, floating on Icarus wings; the extreme element of this coalition even dreamt of a theocratic constitution in which minorities were the leftovers of history, rather than equal citizens as they are now.

Voters electing a government to end turmoil were also being asked to choose between 1947 and 1971. In 1947, East Pakistan was born on Bengali maati as an anti-India negative rather than a positive expression of statehood. Bengalis quickly realised that they had become victims of a civilisational heist; their language, a foundation of their identity, was being stolen from them.

In an irony whose dimensions have still to be fully tested by the cold eye of history, the Muslim League architects of Pakistan insisted on Urdu as the only official language upon the many geographies of a country sliced out by Partition. Bengal spoke Bengali, Punjab Punjabi, Sindh Sindhi, Baluchistan Balochi, the Frontier Pashto. Urdu was and is a melodic tongue from a part of central India; it could not be imprisoned in an artificial state. In 1971, Bengalis chose a civilisational state over an artificial construct.

A powerful coalition, backed by some foreign powers, sought to exploit the discontent of the 2020s, to reverse 1971, ideologically if not geographically. A significant feature of its election strategy was to arouse and exploit, electorally, what it believed was a visceral hatred for India. Cricket became a victim of these tactics, leaving Bangladesh out of the T20 World Cup. Pakistan, always ready to rush in where angels fear to tread, fanned this fire to the extent it could. The misfortune of dangerous ideologues is that they can never understand the common sense of the common people. Bangladeshi voters elected a political force which claimed Bengali nationalism with pride: the Bangladesh Nationalist Party.

The founder of the BNP was Ziaur Rahman, who, as a major in the army, rose against the colonisation of his country by Islamabad, and broadcast the declaration of independence in March 1971 from a clandestine radio station in Chittagong. As General Ziaur Rahman, he became president of his country in 1977, until he was assassinated in 1981. His wife, Begum Khaleda, led the party until she passed away very recently. The new prime minister is their son.

Tarique Rahman, who suffered nearly two decades of exile, was more astute than many of his seniors across the political spectrum. One pointed remark that he made during the campaign conveys a wealth of meaning: cricket should be a bridge, not a battlefield.

His opponents, led by the Jamaat-e-Islami, promised the people of Bangladesh freedom from sin, salvation in heaven, and, just in case this was not enough, a handout of 15,000 taka. It is impossible for an observer to invent such a manifesto. The voter wanted a better life on this earth. For salvation, he could turn to the Holy Book at home or the mosque in his village; he also knew that command of heaven had not yet been handed over to self-appointed priests.

Women voters led the way to the BNP’s victory, because they knew that beneath the veneer of religiosity there existed misogyny. Detailed statistics have not yet been released, but visual evidence suggests that the polling percentage was higher among women than men. You could see the quiet determination in their eyes. The media so often look at the face and forget the eyes.

The most interesting results were from Dhaka. The Jamaat believed that the capital, and particularly its campuses, would become the vanguard of an electoral upheaval in its favour. The BNP swept Dhaka. Most of the Jamaat’s seats came from the border with West Bengal, a story which needs some investigation before its various implications can be analysed.

There is a larger battle going on in many Muslim countries and communities as disillusionment with conventional political, or indeed autocratic, formations breeds a fascination for theocratic forces. A story from the autobiography of the most famous Bengali of the 1940s and 1950s, Hussain Shaheed Suhrawardy, comes to mind. Suhrawardy has the unique distinction of having been a godfather of both Pakistan, as leader of the Bengal Muslim League in the 1940s, and Bangladesh, as a mentor of the Awami League in the 1950s. He became prime minister of Pakistan for a few months before the country plunged into what has become irreversible army rule. As prime minister, he received a suggestion that Pakistan should seek an alliance with a few countries. Suhrawardy remarked, with his usual dry wit: “When you add zero to zero, you only get zero.”

Bangladesh has left that zero behind. It can progress, if its leadership displays the necessary sagacity, on the multiplier effect doctrine of Bengali nationalism, a liberal economic framework, and cultural harmony.

Akbar is a journalist, author and former minister of state in the ministry of external affairs.

a-diplomatic-tightrope-navigating-the-complexities-of-india-bangladesh-relations

Sat Feb 21 15:26:49 IST 2026

IT IS CONVENTIONAL wisdom within Indian diplomatic circles that Bangladesh presents a far more complex foreign policy challenge than Pakistan. The impact of the Partition in the East permeates the psyche and lives of tens of millions in one of the most densely populated regions of the world.

Bangladesh’s journey has not been easy—first as part of India, then of Pakistan, and now as an independent nation. The country is a large Muslim enclave surrounded by India. It displays a siege mentality and often defines sovereignty as separateness from India. When this separateness is threatened, or perceived to be threatened, there is pushback. Its people revolted when they sensed a similar threat from West Pakistan. The building of a unique identity that is neither Pakistani nor Indian is at the core of Bangladesh’s national project. Having been buffeted by opposing and competing ideologies for decades, and having paid the price in blood and otherwise, there is hope today that the post-1971 generation may succeed where their forefathers could not.

Beneath the idea of Bangladesh lies the reality of an intertwined and multilayered India-Bangladesh relationship. There is an India for every Bangladeshi, and a Bangladesh for every Indian, straddling geographical, economic, social and ideological specificities. The relationship has one meaning for the rickshaw puller who wishes to cycle from Akhaura to Agartala, and for the trader importing a cartload of boulders from Dauki to Tamabil, and quite another for policy mandarins in Dhaka playing on the regional and global chessboard.

India’s Bangladesh policy reflects this complexity. It may be led by the ministry of external affairs, but it has a multitude of internal drivers. Much effort goes into reconciling conflicting objectives within the officialdom in Delhi, and between Delhi and the neighbouring states, in the day-to-day administration of policy. This is a continuous enterprise that requires a few essential attributes: unfailing attention to the minutest details—many of which would surprise the uninitiated; knowledge, capacity, resilience and patience. It also entails accepting the structural limits to friendship, not between the average citizens of the two countries, but between the state apparatuses, when sovereignty comes into play.

We are today at a turning point in the relationship once again. In recent years, India has demonstrated how far it can go to strengthen ties. The initiatives and connectivity that India built with Bangladesh during the Hasina period were unprecedented and targeted towards the welfare of the common people. These included, among others, the settlement of longstanding boundary issues, people-to-people exchanges, non-reciprocal access to the Indian market, promotion of value chains, energy pipelines, rail, bus and water routes, capacity building, development assistance and cooperation on international and regional issues. Bangladesh, for its part, agreed not to weaponise its territory against India, with some exceptions.

It is possible to carry forward from where we left off. The first step has been taken with Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s outreach to Prime Minister Tarique Rahman, and his expression of willingness to work with him on all issues. This is important, as it settles the debate over the legitimacy question and the issue of the BNP’s record on India when it was last in office. This signalling will give space to Rahman to build internal consensus on how to move forward with India. The BNP’s election manifesto provides general guidance but avoids specifics. This gives flexibility to both sides. The return of Sheikh Hasina could be the first stumbling block and will require careful handling on both sides. So far, the signal from Delhi is that it will not allow the past to cloud the future. More than anyone else, Rahman himself is a beneficiary of a 17-year reprieve in London.

There are many low-hanging fruits that can kick-start the relationship, largely involving people. These do not need to wait for a summit-level meeting, although such a meeting is essential. Both sides would need to take confidence-building measures. In the interest of sustainability, the temptation to project any single issue as make-or-break is best avoided. Quiet diplomacy rather than grandstanding would serve better. The issues in the relationship, particularly Bangladesh’s grievances, are well known.

In this context, two examples illustrate how even the most intractable issues can be resolved when there is alignment of political forces on both sides. One is the 1996 Ganges Water Treaty, which expires this year and which, despite years of negotiations, could only be concluded when the stars aligned between Delhi, Kolkata and Dhaka. The second, more recent case is the Land Boundary Agreement of 2015, which had to wait decades for the arrival of a government with an absolute majority in Delhi and a willing partner in Dhaka. It is worth noting that both have survived the test of time.

It is time to move ahead with the hard work, notwithstanding the known knowns and the known unknowns.

The author is a former deputy national security adviser who earlier served as high commissioner to Bangladesh.

beyond-rhetoric-why-trade-realities-define-the-future-of-bangladesh-india-ties

Mon Feb 23 15:48:12 IST 2026

THE EVOLUTION OF Bangladesh-India trade ties is rooted in structural economic shifts rather than diplomacy alone. In the early 1990s, Bangladesh liberalised imports to support domestic production and export-oriented industries. At the same time, India’s post-reform economy began producing competitively priced, quality goods at scale. The convergence was inevitable: Bangladesh’s expanding industrial base required inputs, and India had become a natural supplier.

Imports from India, particularly cotton yarn, fabrics, machinery, agricultural commodities and intermediate goods became integral to Bangladesh’s manufacturing ecosystem. These imports strengthened export competitiveness, especially in ready-made garments, which now account for 84 per cent of Bangladesh’s exports. Over time, India also provided Bangladesh duty-free, quota-free access under its 2011 LDC scheme, covering all but 25 tariff lines out of more than 8,000. For Bangladesh, which lacked a bilateral FTA like Nepal or Bhutan, this was a significant opening.

Despite this access, Bangladesh’s export performance in the Indian market remained limited. It took nearly four decades to cross $1 billion in exports to India, and only five years thereafter to reach $2 billion. Meanwhile, imports from India rose sharply, widening the bilateral trade deficit. At one stage, Bangladesh imported roughly $14 billion from India while exporting around $2 billion.

However, bilateral deficits can be misleading when viewed in isolation. A substantial share of imports from India-particularly cotton yarn and fabric- feeds directly into Bangladesh’s garment exports to Western markets. In that sense, the deficit with India contributes indirectly to Bangladesh’s surplus with countries such as the United States. Trade flows are integrated within global value chains, not confined to bilateral balances.

The core limitation lies not in market access but in export concentration. Bangladesh’s heavy dependence on garments restricts diversification, and India is itself a major textile and apparel producer and exporter.

This structural overlap naturally caps expansion in that segment. The more sustainable strategy would have been to attract Indian investment into Bangladesh to produce for the Indian market under duty-free access. While two special economic zones were dedicated to Indian investors and India extended lines of credit totalling $8 billion between 2010 and 2017 for infrastructure and development, investment inflows have remained modest. Bangladesh attracted less than $2 billion in FDI last year, compared with tens of billions flowing into India. Domestic constraints-cost of doing business, regulatory inefficiencies and governance challenges-remain critical obstacles.

Recent trade frictions, including restrictions on land-port movements and bans on yarn imports, illustrate internal sectoral tensions in Bangladesh.

Domestic spinners seek protection from competitively priced Indian yarn, while garment exporters prefer unrestricted sourcing to maintain price competitiveness. Long-term resolution lies not in import bans but in improving industrial competitiveness through better financing conditions, infrastructure, reduced cost of doing business, efficient institutions, putting in place single window in service delivery, availability of energy, implementation of the 2018 logistics policy and predictability among others.

A more consequential shift is approaching: Bangladesh will graduate from LDC status in November 2026. With graduation, India’s 2011 duty-free scheme will lapse unless extended. Several developed economies- including the European Union, the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia- have announced transitional support beyond graduation. China has also signalled a temporary extension of its preferential scheme. Securing a similar arrangement with India would ease the transition and protect competitiveness during adjustment.

At the same time, Bangladesh must reposition itself within the global trade architecture. Its recent Economic Partnership Agreement with Japan marks a milestone, but competitors are moving aggressively. Vietnam maintains around 17 free trade agreements, including one with the European Union. India has also concluded a trade agreement with the EU. Once Bangladesh’s extended LDC benefits expire, its apparel exports to Europe could face tariffs while Indian and Vietnamese products enter duty-free. This potential tariff differential represents a structural risk to Bangladesh’s primary export sector. Strategic pursuit of comprehensive trade agreements—with the EU, ASEAN and other major markets—is therefore imperative.

Trade relations cannot be detached from broader geopolitical realities. Energy cooperation, water-sharing over 54 common rivers, renewal of the 1996 Ganges Treaty in 2026, hydropower imports from Nepal via the Indian grid, and scrutiny over large-scale power agreements such as the 1,500 MW deal with the Adani Group all shape the economic environment. For Bangladesh, energy security and transition toward cleaner power are directly tied to export sustainability, especially as carbon-related trade measures emerge in Europe. Transparency and equitable terms in major bilateral deals are essential to prevent future political contestation.

Infrastructure projects such as the Matarbari deep-sea port and the Padma rail link were conceived within a framework of sub-regional connectivity. Their full economic viability depends on broader regional integration, including access for India’s northeast and landlocked neighbours. Connectivity, when operationalised on commercial terms, can generate shared gains rather than asymmetrical dependence.

Concerns in India regarding Bangladesh’s expanding trade ties with Pakistan or deepening economic engagement with China must be assessed within the logic of sovereign economic policy. Bangladesh’s largest import partner is China, and economic diversification across partners is a rational strategy. Engagement with one partner need not come at the expense of another, provided security sensitivities are respected. For example, India also negotiates trade arrangements—such as its recalibrated tariff framework with the United States—in pursuit of its own national interest. Bangladesh must do the same.

The political transition following the removal of the previous government has introduced a recalibration in perceptions. A democratically legitimised government in Bangladesh would be better positioned to engage India from a basis of public mandate and institutional confidence. Durable economic cooperation requires mutual respect, transparency, sensitivity to concerns of the partner countries and recognition of asymmetries.

Ultimately, Bangladesh–India relations must move beyond the narrow lens of trade deficits. The real agenda lies in competitiveness, diversification, connectivity and strategic trade diplomacy. For Bangladesh, the priority is strengthening domestic capacity while negotiating extended market access during the LDC transition. For India, sustaining goodwill requires sensitivity to partnership balance and ensuring that major agreements are transparent and commercially defensible.

A stable ecosystem-where trade, water, energy and security concerns are managed cooperatively-will naturally reinforce bilateral economic ties. Without that stability, even well-designed trade frameworks will struggle.

The future of the Bangladesh-India relationship should rest not on perceptions of dominance, but on calibrated mutual interest. That is the only durable foundation for shared prosperity in South Asia.

Rahman is distinguished fellow, Centre for Policy Dialogue, Dhaka.

how-did-covid-change-our-dreams-experts-explain-the-quarandreaming-phenomenon

Mon Feb 16 16:32:12 IST 2026

In the early 1840s, Elias Howe toiled day and night to perfect a sewing machine at his workshop in Massachusetts. But something was wrong with the design. As he pondered over the mechanics, a bunch of warriors barged in and abducted him. They took him to a strange land where their king gave him an ultimatum: Deliver a working sewing machine in 24 hours, or die. Try as he might, Howe couldn’t do it. The deadline over, the warriors hauled him up for execution. But he could not help but notice something odd—the tip of each spear held by the warriors had a tiny, eye-like hole that seemed to stare at him. Howe then woke up, gasping, from the worst nightmare of his life. He was, however, overcome with excitement instead of dread. The nightmare had opened his eyes to a new possibility—the eye of the needle should not be at the butt, like in hand sewing, but at the tip, just like the spears in his dream. This was crucial in the discovery of the lockstitch mechanism that propelled the mass production of clothes in the 19th century.

This is just a glimpse of what our dreams, often dismissed as chaotic or meaningless, could achieve. Howe wasn’t the only one who got free R&D from the subconscious department. Mary Shelley dreamt Frankenstein into existence; Dmitri Mendeleev’s periodic table of elements came to him in visions; Paul McCartney woke up humming the music of Yesterday. As a grad student, Larry Page dreamt about downloading the entire internet and keeping them as links, which eventually led to Google’s original PageRank algorithm.

Harvard professor Deirdre Barrett has extensively written about dream-inspired creativity in The Committee of Sleep. “Modern research shows that dreams arise primarily during the rapid eye movement (REM) sleep—a phase when emotion and visual areas of the brain are even more active than in waking, while logic and language regions are quieter,” she explains. “The dreaming mind then recombines familiar material in ways the waking mind would censor.”

So, basically, the prefrontal cortex, which acts as the logical sceptic in your brain, goes into a do-not-disturb mode during REM stage. On the other hand, the visual and emotional regions party like it is Friday night. Conventional filters relax and let odd connections spark. Your imaginations run wild and ignite breakthroughs. Your dreaming mind is having a go at the riddle you couldn’t crack when you were awake.

Productivity pundits who call for a 70-hour work week in India may find this a blasphemy—what if the secret to growing a company isn’t mandating a 14-hour grind for employees but rather letting them nap their way to success? A 2023 study by MIT and Harvard researchers found that just 15 seconds into the light sleep stage resulted in a threefold chance of solving a math problem. So the next time your boss asks why you are dozing at your desk, say that you are working on the next big idea.

Even athletes consult dreams for personal training sessions. Heavyweight boxing champion Floyd Patterson discovered many of his signature punches during dreams, according to Barrett’s research. After a brief slump in his performance, golfer Jack Nicklaus dreamt that he was not holding the club right. On waking, he tried the dream grip and promptly got his swing back.

Not just legends, mere mortals can solicit creative help from the sleeping mind. According to Barrett, the trick is “dream incubation”, which is essentially whispering a research request to your brain’s helpdesk before bedtime. It involves focusing on a question or image you want to explore before going to sleep and journalling your dream as soon as you wake up. “In one of my studies, 50 per cent of college students who incubated a real-world problem dreamt about it within a week. And 25 per cent were able to report genuine solutions,” she says.

The idea that dreams hold meaning isn’t new. As early as 3000 BCE, in what could be the oldest dream journal, Sumerians carved their nocturnal visions on clay tablets. King Gudea, who ruled the Sumerian city state of Lagash, rebuilt the temple dedicated to the god Ningirsu around 2100 BCE after a dreamy divine message: “I need a new abode.” The Akkadians compiled an 11-tablet guide to dream divination—the Iškar Zaqiqu—filled with rituals to chase away nightmares and decode their meanings.

In ancient Egypt, dream interpreters weren’t your average roadside fortune-tellers. They assumed VIP priestly status, whispering divine insights to the pharaohs before crucial decisions. Before becoming pharaoh, Thutmose IV had a dream while resting by the Great Sphinx of Giza. In the dream, the Sphinx promised him that he would be anointed pharaoh if he cleared away the drifting desert sands burying the statue. Once he took over the throne, he fulfilled the Sphinx’s wish and installed a granite tablet called the Dream Stele to record the event. Historians believe this was more of a propaganda as Thutmose was not the first in line to the throne. After all, nothing legitimises a questionable claim of succession like a giant stone billboard saying, “The Sphinx said it’s okay.”

The Greeks took the practice to the battlefield; no general would march without consulting a dream reader. According to Roman historian Flavius Josephus, Alexander the Great planned to ransack Jerusalem because of its loyalty to Persians. But he dreamt of a high priest clad in white robes greeting him at the city gates of Jerusalem. When he arrived at the city the next day, there stood the real-life version—Rabbi Jaddua. He showed the emperor the passages from the Book of Daniel, predicting a Greek king would conquer the Persians. Convinced he was the chosen one, Alexander spared the city. This might be the most successful ‘vibe check’ in military history.

Not everyone in antiquity bought the prophecy angle. Ever the sceptic, Greek philosopher Aristotle rejected the idea that dreams could predict the future. He argued that we accept such visions as real because of the suspension of judgment while sleeping. This theory is now backed by modern neuroimaging, which shows the brain’s frontal lobe being suppressed during dreams.

Aristotle’s theory did not find many takers among European psychoanalysts of the early 20th century. But his teacher Plato theorised that all humans have a lawless wild beast nature, which peers out during sleep in the form of dreams.

Austrian neurologist and founder of psychoanalysis Sigmund Freud drew on Plato’s concept to develop his “wish-fulfilment” theory. While Plato saw human desire being played out more directly through dreams, Freud felt that dreams were suppressed wishes of people fulfilled during sleep. Swiss psychotherapist Carl Jung—Freud’s protege-turned rival—had a different view. They famously had their first fallout while interpreting each others’ dreams while travelling to the US. Jung later came up with his own concept, known as the “collective unconscious”. It posits that we all share universal, inherited patterns of imagery that influence our dreams.

However, these understandings changed in the 1950s with the discovery of the REM stage of sleep when you are likely to have vivid dreams. If you use a smartwatch to track your sleep, you might already be familiar with various sleep stages. For the unversed, sleep is broadly divided into two stages: non-REM and REM. Non-REM has three sub-stages—N1, N2, and N3. And, your brain cycles through non-REM and REM stages three to four times during an eight-hour sleep.

Studies indicate that you can have dreams during all sleep stages, says Tony Cunningham, director of the Center for Sleep and Cognition and assistant professor of psychology at Harvard Medical School. “In N1, you can have some creative and bizarre thoughts mixed with hallucinations,” he tells THE WEEK. This is where hypnagogia kicks in—you see geometric shapes, flashes of light and occasionally experience that terrifying full-body jerk.

Then comes the N2 and N3 sleep stages that yield shorter, less emotional dream reports. These are more ‘thought-like’ and often built from specific events or memories, says Cunningham. REM sleep is where the dreams are typically longer, more bizarre and heavily woven from our long-term memories. Citing research on the roles of vivid dreams during REM and hallucinations during N1 stage in creativity, Cunningham says, “Research has found that both types of dreams can enhance creativity and help produce insights. It is probably more likely that they are working together to optimise the impact.”

While Howe’s sewing machine dream occurred during REM sleep, German chemist August Kekulé had his ‘Eureka’ moment in N1 stage. While pondering about the structure of benzene, he fell asleep in front of his fireplace. He saw the atoms dancing in twisted motions like a chain and they turned into a snake biting its own tail. This imagery inspired him to propose that the C₆H₆ structure of benzene must be made of a ring of carbon atoms, with a hydrogen atom attached to each of them.

Both Howe and Kekulé had their groundbreaking dreams accidentally. But Thomas Edison gamified the system. He used hypnagogic hallucinations to boost his creativity by napping in his armchair while holding a metal ball in one hand. As he fell asleep, the ball would drop, waking him up, often with a fresh idea. Salvador Dalí used to hold a heavy metal key as he drifted into the semi-lucid regions of the dreamworld. Dropping the key would wake him up and spark ideas for paintings that he famously described as “hand-painted dream photographs”. His 1931 painting, The Persistence of Memory, one of the most recognisable works of surrealism, depicts melting pocket watches that were inspired by one of his hypnagogic dreams.

Even contemporary artists have been inspired by their dreams. Kerala-based artist Sandeep Karunakaran, who is known as Sanskarans in the art community, reveals that since childhood, he had been having dreams filled with giant creatures, monsters, UFOs or unknown entities descending from the sky.

“They stay with me long after I wake up, leaving strong visual imprints that become part of my mental archive,” says Sanskarans. He translates these dream impressions into visual forms that he describes as retro-futuristic horror and science fiction. They are inspired by how his dreams feel rather than what they show.

“Over time, I came to understand that these dreams were not random,” explains Sanskarans. “They were shaped by everything I absorbed—films, ghost stories, documentaries and my own tendency to visualise intensely. Some of these visions evolved into nightmares, but rather than rejecting them, I learned to embrace them as creative fuel. The worlds I paint are, in many ways, extensions of those early dreamscapes.”

While all humans have an innate potential for dreaming, their cultural communities can have a big impact in either encouraging that potential or discouraging it, says Kelly Bulkeley, a US-based author and researcher in the fields of dreams and the psychology of religion. “Many Native American groups teach their children about dreams and perform dream-oriented rituals to enhance everyone’s awareness of and respect for dreaming,” he tells THE WEEK. “In contrast, totalitarian governments such as the Nazis treat dreams as politically dangerous and give them no space in people’s lives.”

Barrett says indigenous, ancient or tribal traditions might see dreaming as a collective experience or a communication from gods or ancestors, rather than an individual’s private psychology. Some of these do have a dream interpreter who goes by more predetermined symbology, she adds.

Among Native Americans, the Yanomami community that lives in the Amazon rainforest treats dreams as real-world experiences, where the soul leaves the body to travel a multi-layered cosmos, providing knowledge and protecting the community. For the Xavante from central Brazil, dreams are considered messages carrying songs, myths or sacred stories given to individuals by mythic beings.

The dreamcatcher, a home decor product popularised in India through online shopping apps, has its origin among the North American Ojibwe people, who traditionally hang these charms over children to ward off bad dreams until sunrise. Neuroscientist Adam Haar Horowitz, who researches dreams at the MIT Media Lab and the Harvard Medical School’s Center for Sleep and Cognition, closely follows the Native American dream traditions. “If you touch people’s dream worlds, you have a duty to respect the cultures that have been tending dreams for millennia, not just harvest their imagery,” he says. “One side is a living, situated practice; the other is a commodity stripped of context.”

Another dream art that is often a victim of cultural appropriation is the aboriginal art in Australia. Many famous dot paintings of the Pintupi people and other similar cultures in the Western Desert bloc are often received by the painters during their dreams. Australia-based dream researcher Dan Kennedy has worked with aboriginal communities for years. He says people around the world are quite interested in the “exoticness” of aboriginal culture, but authentic gifts by local artists can be expensive. “There is always a steady flow of people making ‘aboriginal style’ things, whether it is souvenirs or design assets or artworks or fictional books about the culture, and everyone has to be vigilant to make sure those things are authentic and made by aboriginal people,” Kennedy tells THE WEEK.

Still, certain dream motifs transcend time and culture—flying, falling, having sex, meeting the dead or even teeth falling out. “Cultural variations can influence the details, but these are truly universal features of human dreaming experience,” says Bulkeley. For example, a flying dream could symbolise universal human desires for freedom, control and overcoming challenges. Falling teeth could mean two different things—for children, it could mean growth while for adults it could symbolise death, says Bulkeley.

Then there is the Threat Simulation Theory (TST), which proposes that dreaming evolved as a defence mechanism to rehearse dangerous situations in real life. You might often see dreams of being chased, attacked, lost, embarrassed or trapped. As per TST, that’s not an accident; those are the kind of situations where better preparation would help you survive, says Horowitz. “In that view, a nightmare is not just random suffering—it is a kind of training run for waking danger,” he adds. “I don’t think TST explains all dreams—there are also creative, social, emotional and meaning-making functions—but as a lens, it’s useful.”

Not every dream is trying to send you a cosmic memo. Some are just your brain’s idle chatter. Barrett points out that the trick is spotting the ones that actually matter. “Usually, the dream itself tells you which is which: the meaningful ones carry emotional weight, even if their storyline is strange. The more chaotic ones fade fast, like a half-formed daytime fantasy,” she explains.

Dreams are a big part of Indian culture, too. The Upanishads describe dream as a state where “the mind creates its own internal reality”. The ancient Indian practice of Yoga Nidra is a guided meditation that brings you into a state between waking and sleeping.

A similar practice is the Tibetan Dream Yoga (TDY), prominent among Buddhist monks in India and Tibet. It involves lucid dreaming, which is when you realise that you are dreaming while still asleep, says S. Gabriela Torres Platas, a neuroscientist at Northwestern University, Illinois. She has been carrying out clinical trials to explore how dream yoga can help treat mental health issues. Once they gain awareness while dreaming, TDY practitioners work on transforming their dream content like facing fears, dissolving scary images or meditating within the dream. Advanced stages of TDY involve awareness even in dreamless sleep.

Mathematician Srinivasa Ramanujan credited his famous theorems to Namagiri Thayar, the presiding goddess of the Narasimha Swamy Temple in Namakkal, Tamil Nadu, who guided him during his sleep. He described that during sleep he would see “a red screen formed by flowing blood” on which a hand would write down formulas.

For many, dreams also play a profound emotional and therapeutic role. Blues singer Dana Gillespie tells THE WEEK that she has often had enlightening dreams about Sathya Sai Baba, her spiritual mentor. More than just the usual nonsense chaotic dreams, these were dreams with “instructions on how to live”, she points out. The first of such dreams occurred when she was young and stranded in Turkey. “My best friend had missed the flight so I had to spend a week waiting for him. On my first night alone, I cried myself to sleep, rather worried about being in a place that I didn’t know at all,” she recalls. “But that night I had one of Sai Baba’s special comforting dreams.” She dreamt she had been taken to his interview room in Puttaparthi, Andhra Pradesh, something that in waking life didn’t occur until 12 years later.

Dreams are also unsung therapists for your emotional wounds. Take the temples of Asclepius, the ancient Greek god of healing, for instance. They weren’t just places of worship, but sites of “therapeutic dream incubation”. “Sick people came to the temple to pray, bathe, exercise, eat a special diet and sleep at night within the temple, where Asclepius would provide a dream to guide the healing process,” Bulkeley points out. Fast forward to today, and modern therapists do the same, except with a bit more couch time and fewer toga parties.

Sleep can help us process bad memories in a way that we are less reactive to them when we recall them, says Cunningham. According to him, REM dreams help us replay emotionally loaded memories, but in a safe, offline way. It is more like watching a horror movie with the sound turned off. Nevertheless, there is a catch. If you have been through post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), that whole emotional-detox feature can glitch, he warns. Instead of soothing cinematic reruns, you might get the director’s cut of your worst trauma on repeat. Spoiler alert—there is no happy ending.

Therapists like Barrett have a clever hack for this: rewrite the script of your recurring nightmare with a “mastery dream”, which involves rehearsing an alternate ending. Think of it like switching from a slasher film to a cartoon clip—Peeping Tom who stalks you is now just Tom the cat and you are the mouse chasing him for a change. Many survivors of childhood sexual abuse choose to make their abuser listen to them and describe how their acts were wrong in their dreams. “Just as repetitive nightmares make people more fearful by day, mastery dreams carry over into a sense of strength or comfort,” explains Barrett.

Dreams also indirectly play the role of a memory janitor. Your brain is said to engage in overnight housekeeping during sleep while dreams act as a filter that helps you forget or remember things.

“This is actually reflected in dream content. Dreams during non-REM tend to be about much more recent events while those during REM tend to incorporate much older memories,” says Cunningham. So you might get a bizarre memory cocktail in your dreams. Your childhood crush seated in the next cubicle at your office or it could be about you forgetting to prepare for your school exams long after you enter retired life.

Bulkeley believes that we are truly living in a golden era of dream research. “The study of long-term dream journals holds special promise as they can give a uniquely detailed view of the natural rhythms of dreaming in an actual human life,” he says. “We are just now learning how to combine long-term dream journals with the powers of modern data science. I believe the most important new findings in future dream research will come from this direction.”

Tech-savvy dreamers can soon control their dreams using an app. Horowitz’s company DUST, a spinoff from the MIT Media Lab, is building an app that will let users work with their own dreams for creativity, learning and healing. They are also working with clinicians and communities to explore applications in PTSD, chronic nightmares and mood. “The future I see for dream research is more collaboration between neuroscience, indigenous and historical dream traditions, clinical psychology and art,” he says, “DUST is a small piece in that larger shift: Giving people gentle, respectful interfaces to their own sleeping minds, and asking, ‘What do you want your dreams to do?’, instead of deciding for them.”

While mysteries around the purpose of dreaming continue, long-term dream journals and futuristic technology might unlock patterns we have never seen. Or, maybe the answers aren’t in waking life at all. Perhaps, we should sleep on it and see if our dreams can find the answer. So go ahead and let your neurons brainstorm. Lights off, please!

why-eight-hour-sleep-is-not-optional-rem-and-non-rem-explained-dr-mazda-turel

Sat Feb 14 17:17:40 IST 2026

IN A WORLD THAT worships productivity, sleep has become the poor intern of human biology—overworked, underpaid and blamed for everything. If you sleep eight hours, people look at you with suspicion, as if you have confessed to fraud. “Eight hours?” they ask. “What a luxury!” And then they proudly tell you that they sleep five, as though exhaustion were a competitive sport.

But the brain, that quiet tyrant inside our skull, does not care about cultural bravado. It has its own night shift. And it begins the moment we close our eyes.

Sleep happens in stages. Four of them, to be exact.

Stage N1, the lightest stage, is that delicious moment when the world begins to blur and your thoughts loosen their tie. This is when you see strange fragments of imagery that feel real but make no sense. A flying autorickshaw. A friend from school who now has a horse’s head. A dosa that folds itself. These are called hypnagogic hallucinations, and the brain treats them like a warm-up act before the main performance.

In N2, the cortex begins to file the day away. Small electrical bursts called sleep spindles spark across the brain as though reorganising your memories, much like a librarian with mild OCD. Your heart rate slows. Your body softens. If someone wakes you up at this point, you will insist you were not asleep, but your face will betray you.

Stage N3 is the deep sleep stage, what we doctors call slow wave sleep. This is when your thalamus, the relay station of the brain, goes mostly offline. Your cortex enters a rhythmic hum, almost musical in its regularity. This is the sleep that heals your tissues, repairs your bones, balances your hormones, and strengthens your immunity. If you skip this stage, you do not bounce back. You crumble in slow motion.

And then comes REM sleep, the most dramatic of them all. This is where the amygdala, the seat of emotion, becomes more active than when you are awake. Your cortex lights up as though it is hosting a midnight festival. Your body becomes temporarily paralysed so that you do not flail about acting out your dreams (which, for some people, is very considerate).

REM is where dreams stretch into vivid cinema. It is where your brain stress-tests your emotions, rehearses scenarios, processes grief, and sometimes gifts you the plot of a story you forget seconds after waking.

There is a theory called the threat simulation hypothesis that says dreams help you rehearse fear in a safe environment. This explains why so many people dream about missing flights, losing passwords, or being chased by a giant samosa.

The deeper truth is this: Sleep is not optional. It is not vanity. It is not indulgence. It is biology at its strictest.

When you cut down on sleep, you are not reclaiming time. You are borrowing it and paying it back with interest: irritability, poor judgment, blood pressure problems, weight gain, memory lapses and, in extreme cases, hallucinations. I once had a patient who had not slept for three days. He said he saw his neighbour turning into a crow. I told him to sleep first and complain later.

Sleep is also the only time your brain takes out the trash. A system called the glymphatic pathway washes away metabolic waste. These are proteins that accumulate during the day and, if left uncleared for years, can contribute to cognitive decline. No amount of antioxidants can compensate for what a long, deep sleep can do in two hours.

Somewhere, we forgot that sleep is our oldest companion. It kept our ancestors alive long before caffeine was invented. It is the quiet friend who repairs what life frays. So, if someone calls you lazy for sleeping eight hours, tell them that your thalamus, amygdala, cortex, hormones, muscles, heart and immune system disagree. Tell them your brain is working harder asleep than when you are awake. And then, politely, go back to bed.

The writer is consultant neurosurgeon, Wockhardt Hospital, Mumbai.

ai-can-interpret-dreams-but-it-is-not-an-infallible-oracle-kelly-bulkeley

Tue Feb 24 18:25:44 IST 2026

Interview/ Kelly Bulkeley, director, Sleep and Dream Database

KELLY BULKELEY IS a dream researcher, who currently serves as director of the Sleep and Dream Database, an online archive of dream reports with tools to study dreaming. A former president of the International Association for the Study of Dreams, he holds a PhD in religion and psychological studies from the University of Chicago Divinity School. He has also authored a number of books, including An Introduction to the Psychology of Dreaming (1997), Dreaming in the World’s Religions: A Comparative History (2008) and Big Dreams: The Science of Dreaming and the Origins of Religion (2016). He is also an adviser to the dream journal app Elsewhere.to, which integrates his research on dream symbolism and meaning into digital tools for personal reflection. Excerpts from an interview:

Q/ Ancient civilisations treated dreams as divine messages, while modern science treats them as data. Which is closer to the truth?

I do not see them as contradictory or mutually exclusive approaches, and I believe we come closest to the truth by integrating these two perspectives: study dreams with the latest tools of data analysis, with the goal of understanding not just dreaming in general, but those special, intense, life-altering dreams that people in many cultures and periods of history have regarded as religious experiences.

Q/ How has your background in psychology and religious studies shaped your approach to dream interpretation?

Dreams have so many levels of meaning that just one discipline or approach will never be enough. By combining insights from both modern psychology and the history of religions, I try to expand my ability to perceive and understand the full range of meanings that can emerge in any dream. Before psychology began as a field of study, religion was the language that people used to talk about dreams in different parts of the world throughout history. So it became clear to me that to study dreams in the widest possible way, I needed to study religion, spirituality, philosophy and art.

Q/ Why do people have recurring dreams?

There are several reasons. Recurring nightmares usually follow a traumatic incident like an accident, attack or a natural disaster. This can be emotionally hard to digest but it can change over time and with therapy. But not all recurrent dreams are nightmares. Athletes could dream of success in sports. Musicians could have dreams of their performances. Among those in early adolescence, sexual dreams are common as they get romantically active.

Q/ There are instances where people wake up and go back to the same dream. What could be the reason for this?

It is a rare phenomenon for people to dream in such a way that their brain may pick up [from] where it left off after waking up. Some people wish they could do it more often because the dream is enchanting. It seems that when this happens, the brain’s neural pattern is active. In other cases, there are recurring dreams that follow the same pattern. So even if it is not the same dream, it feels continuous.

Q/ You have talked about video games enhancing lucidity. Do you think modern life, with all its screens and stress, has changed the way we dream?

Yes, and not necessarily for the good. It seems to me we are much too active in seeking to control dreams through lucidity, and also much too passive in allowing screen media fantasies to infiltrate our imaginations and crowd out the deeper wisdom of our dreams. Precisely because the modern world is filled with so much stress and distraction, we can benefit more than ever from grounding ourselves in the authentic vitality and honest self awareness of our dreams.

Q/ Could AI ever decode dreams, or are dreams too personal for that?

I used to think that AI would never be able to interpret dreams properly, but after working to develop such a system myself, I have completely changed my mind! The Elsewhere.to app, which a team of colleagues and I have built, enables users to record dreams and explore their meanings. Using carefully crafted AI prompts, the app allows you to interpret your dream in a variety of styles: Freudian, Jungian, Lacanian, Gestalt, biblical. Users can also generate art images from their dreams, track recurrent symbols and themes over time. They can also form dream-sharing groups with their friends.

Despite general criticism of AI, I have become more hopeful about its value in the practice of dream interpretation and its role in making these resources available to more people than ever before. If more people around the world are enabled to connect with the deeper patterns of their dreaming, this will set the stage, I believe, for an explosion of human creativity in the coming years.

Q/ There are concerns about the accuracy of AI dream interpretations.

AI-enhanced dream interpretation is not perfect, of course, and no one should treat these systems as an infallible oracle. But human interpretation is not flawless either. The key principle is always to phrase the interpretation as an open-ended question rather than a definitive statement, so the dreamer has the option to accept it or reject it. The dreamer’s dignity and autonomy are essential in this process, and that is why privacy concerns are also a top priority in any form of dream interpretation, whether online or offline.

when-dreams-turned-contagious-experts-explain-how-covid-synchronised-our-dream-worlds

Sat Feb 14 17:16:08 IST 2026

Masked faces, people in hazmat suits, swarms of bugs, invitations from the dead—if any of these images popped up in your sleep back in 2020, you weren’t alone. People across the world had such dreams during the initial phase of the Covid-19 pandemic. The content of our dreams, much like the virus, seemed almost contagious.

Harvard professor and dream researcher Deirdre Barrett was among the first to systematically track these “pandemic dreams”. When terms like ‘quarandreams’ emerged on social media and hashtags like #covidnightmares and #quarantinedreaming trended online in March-April 2020, she launched a large-scale survey, which was later featured in her book Pandemic Dreams. What she found was a rare glimpse into how “nearly everyone on earth” was immersed in the same waking reality.

“It wasn’t that our psyches were mystically connected; it was that for once, nearly everyone’s daily life and emotional tone were synchronised,” Barrett tells THE WEEK. “A dangerous, invisible virus, combined with a shared set of restrictions—lockdowns, masking, social isolation—produced dream themes that were far more globally similar than usual.”

But why did people have longer, more vivid and more bizarre dreams during the pandemic? Barrett says it is not unusual for big global events to shake up our dreamscapes, making them more intense and emotional. She had seen a similar surge in vivid dreams in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, with people reporting visions of plane crashes, fires and collapsing buildings. During wars, dreams often featured bombs or attacks. People also dreamt of earthquakes, tidal waves, wildfires and hurricanes after the 9/11 attacks and during the pandemic. Barrett says these natural disasters are stand-in metaphors for the crisis the dreamers went through. Also, during the pandemic, as the enemy was invisible to the eye, “dreamers imagined monsters, swarms, fogs and dark mists—metaphors for an unseen virus rather than physical destruction,” she says.

If you dreamt of creepy bugs crawling out of nowhere—bedbugs, armies of cockroaches, or perhaps a giant grasshopper with vampire fangs—Barrett’s research suggests your subconscious might have been playing word games. Dreams could represent words metaphorically, like the use of the slang word ‘bugs’ for virus.

Another defining pattern involved the imagery of lockdown—“being trapped, lost or cut off from others, sometimes softened by comic or surreal twists like Zoom nightmares or endless grocery aisles with nothing to buy,” says Barrett. Others feared overcrowding, contamination and failing to wear a mask in public.

Death was also a common imagery. One dreamer who dreamt of a family picnic realised that the attendees were her deceased relatives. Another woman booked an Uber, but a hearse arrived to pick her up instead in the dream.

People usually have trouble staying asleep during wars or disaster, points out Barrett, because of which they may not remember their dreams. But during Covid-19, most people were able to recall their dreams as they had more time to sleep. People also had spare time to journal dreams and share them with their close ones.

Kelly Bulkeley was another dream researcher who identified patterns of pandemic dreams at an early stage. “People were so scared and confused. Their dreams reflected very clearly these negative emotions,” he tells THE WEEK. “In dreams of war or terrorism, the threat is external and relatively clear. But Covid dreams reflected a sense of an unknown threat inside our communities. Instead of a foreign enemy, it was our normal daily interactions with family and friends that posed a danger.”

Some of the dream themes he identified were similar to Barrett’s. These included fear of catching the virus, worrying about spreading the virus to others, frustration at the masking and social distance requirements and anger at people with different views about how we should respond to the virus. “Like the ancient Greek myth of Cassandra, who is cursed to speak truths that no one will heed, these dreams expressed people’s despair about the personal dangers of the pandemic,” says Bulkeley.

Pandemic dreams didn’t just reflect anxieties, they sometimes shifted people’s perspectives. Barrett recounts the story of an Australian woman who had dismissed distancing rules until she dreamt of hosting an overcrowded party.

“A comically large number of people attended—it was so crowded I didn’t realise how risky throwing a party was until later in the dream when Scott Morrison [then Australian prime minister] sent out secret agents to bust people breaking the isolation rules,” the woman is cited as saying in Barrett’s book.

Many others had hopeful dreams like discovering a cure for Covid-19. One of them saw leeches being used to cure the disease. Another dreamt that microwave transmitters were able to block the virus from multiplying. A third one saw saliva of house cats being used to treat the infection.

Barrett says anecdotes from different countries reflected their specific experience. For example, people in New York City and Italy were struck early and hard by the virus. So people dreamt of invisible killers, contamination and death of loved ones. However, in countries like India, the worst Covid wave came later and these dreams weren’t seen much till then, she adds.

Government policies also seeped into dreams during the pandemic. “In the US and the UK, political conflict filtered into dreams—arguments over masks or chaotic government briefings. Chinese dreamers reported more images of surveillance, testing and the bureaucratic machinery of control,” points out Barrett.

Health care workers across the world shared another layer of horror. Some of their haunting dreams included desperately trying to get malfunctioning breathing tubes into people who couldn’t breathe, Swiss cheese masks as protective gear and patients trying to infect them as zombies, says Barrett.

For all their uncanny imagery, the pandemic dreams revealed how our inner worlds were quietly resonating with one another: the fear of contagion, the restrictions of confinement and the yearning for connection. In that shared struggle, our dreams became a kind of collective diary of how ordinary people experienced, absorbed and interpreted a global crisis, one night at a time.

ai-can-interpret-dreams-but-it-is-not-an-infallible-oracle

Sun Feb 15 17:55:00 IST 2026

Nicolas Bruno was just six or seven when he woke from an afternoon nap, conscious but utterly paralysed. “From the corner of my eye, a figure entered the bedroom and walked towards the window beside my bed. I tried to turn and face the figure, but my body was completely frozen,” recalls the New York-based photographer. It was the beginning of a lifelong relationship with sleep paralysis, one that would terrify him, reshape him, and ultimately become the foundation of his surreal photographic world.

In his early teens, sleep paralysis became a nightly affair, and that led to insomnia. Bruno started having difficulty in classes. “Each night, I would be terrified to go back to sleep and face the feeling of being paralysed while an ominous figure stood at the foot of my bed,” he tells THE WEEK.

Sometimes, he felt that these experiences transcended into an astral projection experience, where he could leave his body and travel through his home. Bruno, now 32, thought these experiences were just some horrible nightmares, or some form of haunting.

At the time, Bruno had no name for what he was experiencing, and like many people, he didn’t know the science behind it. Sleep paralysis is the temporary inability to move or speak while your brain transitions into or out of the rapid eye movement (REM) stage of sleep. This stage is known to kick off vivid and dramatic dreams for all people.

Neuroscientist Dr Adam Haar Horowitz, a researcher at the MIT Media Lab and Harvard Medical School, says sleep paralysis occurs when the brain and body fall out of sync. “The motor system switches off to keep us from acting out dreams, but the cognitive system is awake,” he explains. “That timing mismatch leaves the mind alert while the body remains temporarily paralysed.” And, it could go a step beyond that—one could have breathing difficulties and chest pressure, see or hear things that are not there and even feel that they are having an out-of-body experience.

It wasn’t until Bruno began creating his artwork that he finally realised what he was truly experiencing. When the episodes intensified during high school, he confided in his art teacher, who helped him channel his fear into creativity. He encouraged Bruno to keep a dream journal. Bruno started recording everything—rough sketches, fragmented descriptions and the strange silhouettes that haunted his nights.

A month into the journal, the characters from his nightmares began to take shape in his mind. He started experimenting with self-portrait photography, where he could not only depict the terrifying figures but also start taking control of them by creating elaborate costumes and setting up surreal dreamscapes. “It became a therapeutic release to create these images and share them with the world,” says Bruno.

His creative process is not only a technical endeavour, but a deeply personal ritual. It begins with his dream journal, where he logs all of his nightmarish experiences. They become the blueprint for his photography. “These entries will directly inform the creation of my surreal concepts,” he says.

He then picks up an entry and creates a refined sketch that gives an idea of how the final picture would appear. This helps him figure out what costumes he needs to sew and what props he needs to build. The next step is location-hunting, usually across the length and breadth of Long Island, New York. The final spot is fixed to match the mood of the image in the best possible way.

When the weather conditions are right, Bruno hauls his camera gear down the coast to set up the scene. He props the camera on a tripod and turns on the interval timer, allowing him to take a photograph every three seconds. He then models in front of the camera in different poses. He changes his costume to become multiple models, and manipulates the environment with fog, fire and water. Once home, he begins stitching together the images to create the final photograph.

“This process allows me to work as an independent artist without assistants or extra models. By reliving my dreams through my photography, I regain control over each experience and create a tangible artefact that I can share with the world,” he says.

Bruno’s most recurring nightmare involves a faceless trio who appears at his bedside and tries to pull him off the bed. “I feel an immense pressure on my chest and it feels impossible to breathe. They exude a terrifying negative energy that permeates the room,” he recounts.

To capture this surreal scene on camera, he placed an antique bed in the middle of a marshland. “I submerged myself in the freezing water to become three of the faceless entities that I see in my experiences,” says Bruno. “Using a layering technique, I combine all the images in the photo-shoot to produce the final image. Everything that is seen in the image happens in front of the camera and no AI is involved.”

After seeing his works, thousands of sleep paralysis sufferers around the world reached out to him. They could relate to the content within Bruno’s imagery, seeing their own nightmares reflected back at them. “It helped me feel less alone, knowing there were other people in the world experiencing this sleep disorder,” he says.

His life’s mission emerged naturally: To create surreal artwork that brings awareness about sleep paralysis so that others can learn about the disorder and get the help they need.

What once paralysed him now fuels his creativity. Bruno’s images don’t just depict nightmares—they rewrite them.

how-an-artist-is-giving-ancient-korean-tradition-of-dream-exchange-a-modern-twist

Sun Feb 15 17:57:24 IST 2026

On a warm night in sixth century Korea, young Bohui had a bizarre dream in which she was standing atop the So-ak mountain, overlooking Kyongju, the capital of Silla. In her dream, she urinated and the stream of water trickled down the rocks and flooded Kyongju. When she narrated the dream to her younger sister Munhui the following morning, her sister expressed her desire to buy the dream.

“What will I get in return?” asked Bohui.

Munhui offered her an embroidered silk skirt, and Bohui happily agreed.

Years later, Munhui married Kim Chun-chu, who later became King Taejong Muyeol of Silla and united the three kingdoms of Korea (Silla, Koguryŏ and Paekche). She bore him six sons, flooding the kingdom with her descendants and thus fulfilling the dream she bought from her sister.

This legend mentioned in the 12th century official chronicle of Korean history, titled ‘Samguk Sagi’ or ‘The History of Three Kingdoms’, is the oldest evidence about the Korean tradition of exchanging dreams. It was this tradition that led London-based Korean contemporary multidisciplinary artist Bongsu Park to explore an auction of dreams.

The idea struck her when she met a Korean friend at a London cafe in 2019. She told her friend about the dream she had the previous night in which she was cherishing a “tomato-sized” blueberry. After listening to the dream, the friend said she wanted to buy it. When Park asked her why, she said she was trying to get pregnant and hoped the dream would help her have a daughter.

Many Koreans believe that eating a fruit in their dreams means that you could give birth to a daughter, explained Park. Flowers, jewellery and small fish could also mean the same. On the other hand, dreaming of a dragon, tiger, sun or rain could mean that the person could conceive a boy.

Dream transactions are believed to work only if both parties are happy and willing, said Park. “I was familiar with dream sharing through K-dramas and period films but never had a first-hand encounter with the concept previously,” she told THE WEEK. “So I agreed; she paid for our coffee and cake instead.”

A year later, Park received a message from her friend: she had given birth to a baby girl. Though she does not believe in the supernatural power of dreams, Park became curious about the Korean tradition and decided to learn more about it.

Dreams are traditionally shared with friends or family. Some believe dreams contain omen that could bring them luck. If the listener thinks a dream would be beneficial to them, they might ask the owner to sell it to them. In exchange, the buyer would pay them money, or barter it for a valuable item or service. Sometimes, if the dreamer wishes to keep the luck for themselves, they may choose to keep the dream a secret, as telling it is seen as diminishing its power.

There is evidence of a formal sale contract involving a dream transaction in the Jangseogak Archives kept by the Academy of Korean Studies. The contract says that a man named Park Hae-myeong dreamt of a dragon and a tiger appearing together on the 23rd day of the second lunar month in 1900. The opening phrase of the contract revealed that he wanted to sell the dream as he was in “urgent need of money”. Yi Byeong-yu, a scholar from Oksan village who was the 13th generation descendant of Confucian scholar Yi Eon-jeok, offered 1,000 nyang, equivalent to around Rs1.34 crore today, for the dream. Hae-myeong agreed to the deal and transferred the dream to Byeong-yu on April 3, 1900, as per the contract. Though the dream is an immaterial object, the contract is based on mutual trust between both the parties.

Park’s idea of auctioning dreams is also rooted in this idea. Just like auctioning physical arts like paintings and sculptures, she hopes to encourage connoisseurs to see the value in the transaction of dreams. When she tried to explain it to her husband, a Briton, he laughed and said, “You Koreans are crazy.”

Park then worked on the idea of auctioning dreams and invited people to submit their dreams on her website, but with one request: “Please contribute your dream with care. It is a transfer of energy in good faith, an act of friendly generosity.”

People often ask her how they can confirm if the dream they buy is real and not just an invented story. To that, she says dream-sharing is rooted in trust and goodwill. By formalising such an informal tradition, she intends to honour the experience of the dreamer and spread awareness about the tradition.

Dreams that are up for auction are displayed on scrolls. Each scroll is a unique edition, handmade by Park. Dreams containing certain keywords with desirable elements assume a subjective value. For example, a pig alludes to the arrival of wealth in Korean culture. Snakes could mean you are going to be successful in life and career. A house on fire is interpreted as your troubles burning away while a flood in your neighbourhood predicts that good fortunes will pour in. But these could have negative meanings in another culture. In the same way, one person’s nightmare could be perceived as something more positive by another individual.

On the other hand, dreams with bad omens would not have any takers. For example, losing teeth is interpreted as losing someone close to you. Muddy waters could mean problems and sickness. Going down a mountain or losing one’s shoes allude to loss of status or job.

A limited number of potential buyers take part in the auction physically and are given a numbered bidding paddle. Online bidders can write down the price they want to bid in the chatbox. The auction is kicked off by setting a starting price. Those who successfully bid on a dream online are sent a link for payment. The dream scroll is then delivered to the mailing address. The first auction event, Dreamers’ Gathering, was organised at Post Territory Ujeongguk in Seoul with the support of Seoul Foundation for Arts and Culture in June 2021. Another one in London was held at Gallery Rosenfeld with the backing of The Tavistock Institute in November 2021.

Park recounted that the auctions in Seoul and London were received differently by the participants. The one in Seoul saw vigorous bidding, with people competing for desirable keywords. But in London, participants looked at the aesthetic quality more than the symbolic meaning and most of the dreams were sold within a single bidding.

Auctioning is not the only way Park wants to convey the power of dreams. She combines sculpture, installation, video and performance to give a glimpse into the world of dreams. In 2019, she teamed up with choreographer and dancer Jinyeob Cha to come up with the Dream Ritual, a mystical performance inspired by the Korean tradition of dream transaction. In the performance at The Coronet Theatre in London, Cha played Munhui’s character who becomes a shaman after buying a dream and travels to the collective unconscious where she encounters the dreams of others.

So where do the profits from the dream auction go? The proceeds from the Seoul event went to Miral Welfare Foundation, which supports social inclusion of persons with disabilities, while the London auction supported Entelechy Arts, which works with people of all ages, abilities and backgrounds to produce art.

So the next time you wake up from a vivid dream, pause before shrugging it off. Who knows! Someone out there might just be waiting to buy your dream.

one-nation-one-election-indias-solution-for-reform-or-a-democratic-risk

Sat Feb 07 17:48:05 IST 2026

Following the release of the high-level committee’s report on simultaneous elections in March 2024, the government moved quickly to introduce the Constitution (129th Amendment) Bill, 2024, to pave the way for ‘one nation, one election’ (ONOE). If implemented, India would adopt a single election calendar, allowing voters to elect the Lok Sabha and the assemblies simultaneously. Such synchronised elections were held between 1951 and 1967, and even today a few states continue to follow aligned election cycles. On the face of it, the idea entails many positives. But it is also faced with a string of critical questions and intractable issues that are likely to outweigh its perceived benefits.

Billed as a significant step towards electoral reforms, supporters of ONOE count many benefits. One, it will help overcome issues related to the model code of conduct (MCC), which comes into force with the announcement of poll dates, affecting the normal functioning of government, at least for two months each for the Lok Sabha and the assemblies, if not more. During the period the MCC remains in force (from the announcement of poll dates to the declaration of poll results), the government cannot announce any new scheme or make new appointments or transfer employees without the approval of the Election Commission. Hence, adoption of ONOE has the potential to prevent or reduce frequent cycles of policy and governance paralysis.

Two, the costs of holding elections in India are among the highest in the world. Simultaneous elections for different tiers of democracy will save a substantial amount of public money that could be used for public utility.

Three, a large battery of human resources is required to be deployed to conduct elections smoothly, and this has to be done twice, once for the Lok Sabha and once for assemblies. This creates two interrelated problems. The first is what is known as ‘governance downtime’, whereby much of the bureaucracy is taken away from regular duties to perform election-related tasks. Second, frequent diversion of administrative resources from their core responsibilities will have adverse effects on the delivery of governance and development, causing ordinary citizens to suffer. With ONOE, these issues will diminish.

The questions associated with holding simultaneous elections are legion. First, the issues and concerns on the basis of which voters express their party preference differ across levels of elections. We are in an era of hyper-nationalism where national issues often get played out in local-level elections. If elections for different tiers of democracy are held simultaneously, it is highly likely that national issues will overshadow local ones. If this happens, national parties will benefit, whereas regional parties might struggle.

Second, implementation of ONOE will lead to expansion or contraction of the tenures of assemblies. Let us suppose that ONOE is implemented with general elections in 2029. Elections to the Karnataka assembly will be held just a year before, in 2028. Two possibilities exist. One is the postponement of the assembly elections by a year. In this case, the state would have to be placed under president’s rule. If so, would there not be policy paralysis for a year? The second is to allow the assembly elections to take place but curtail its tenure after a year to align it with the tenure of the Lok Sabha. One may therefore ask: is depriving people of a popular government not against the fundamental tenets of democracy?

Third, even if we discount the democratic costs involved in expanding or curtailing the tenures of assemblies for the sake of ONOE, serious challenges remain. Political stability is not guaranteed. Let us assume that the government at the Centre topples, say, within two years after the Lok Sabha is constituted, and no alternative government is formed. As a consequence, the Lok Sabha is dissolved and fresh elections are announced. What will happen to the assemblies?

The Constitution (129th Amendment) Bill stipulates that if Lok Sabha or a State Assembly is dissolved earlier than its five-year term, an election for it will be held for a term equal to the remainder of the five-year term so that synchronisation does not break. Fair enough. But it flies on the face of the argument that ONOE is better than the existing arrangements in terms of cost effectiveness because under the existing arrangements a fresh election entails a full five-year term whereas under the ONOE regime it is for a period equal to the remainder of the five-year term. It effectively means that in a situation of recurring political instability, elections will take place more frequently under the ONOE regime. Moreover, since a mid-term election under the ONOE regime puts in place a short-term government, policy formulation as well as efficacy of governance will suffer. In other words, it goes against the argument that ONOE promises better delivery of governance.

Taken at face value, ONOE promises to be a stepping stone towards electoral reforms and improved governance, as its adoption is likely to rid the nation of frequent elections, governance disruption and wastage of financial resources. But its implementation is far from easy. Its adoption is likely to create more problems than it solves.

The author is professor, Centre for the Study of Developing Societies, New Delhi.

the-great-indian-shake-up-is-india-ready-for-political-storm-of-census-2027

Sat Feb 07 16:02:55 IST 2026

Census 2027 is expected to set off a chain of political decisions with far-reaching consequences, including caste enumeration, constituency delimitation, women’s reservation and simultaneous elections. Together, these steps could redraw India’s electoral map, redistribute political power and force every major party to rethink how it selects candidates, builds coalitions and nurtures leadership

On April 1, the knock on the door will not be a prank.

On the other side will likely be a neighbourhood schoolteacher, trained to approach households with “a smile and proper salutation”, carrying a smartphone. That moment will mark the beginning of the biggest counting exercise on earth: Census 2027.

The enumerator will begin asking 33 questions which, for some, may feel like an exercise in self-discovery, covering both the structure of the house and the life inside it. She will record the material used for the floor, walls and roof; whether the house is owned or rented; and the number of rooms and the number of inhabitants. She will ask about the main source of drinking water, note the cooking fuel and source of lighting, and check whether the household has a kitchen and a bathroom. The caste of the family will also be recorded.

Other questions will include whether the household owns a television, a mobile phone or a smartphone, a computer or a laptop, and whether it has internet access. Ownership of a bicycle, two-wheeler or car will be logged, as will the main cereal consumed by the family. A mobile number will be collected for census-related communication.

For those with privacy concerns, the option of self-enumeration is available, allowing households to fill in the details on a web portal. This innovation makes Census 2027 India’s first fully digital census.

Although delayed by five years due to the pandemic—the first interruption in India’s census cycle since the exercise began in 1872—officials say analysis and publication will be significantly faster this time, given the shift away from paper. But unlike previous counts, Census 2027 will not be just about numbers. It may prove to be the most consequential enumeration exercise in independent India, with far-reaching political and social consequences.

It will set in motion four major decisions, arriving in sequence, each triggering the next, and together likely to change how India is governed and how society reorients itself. Embedded in the census is the recording of caste across India’s population for the first time in nearly a century, a step expected to intensify demands for proportional representation and higher quotas.

The next step has already triggered a deeply polarising debate: the delimitation of parliamentary and assembly seats. This exercise, in turn, will provide the basis for another defining move, the implementation of 33 per cent women’s reservation in Parliament and assemblies. In 2024, India elected 74 women MPs to the Lok Sabha. Even without an increase in the total number of seats, that figure could jump to around 180.

While these three processes are directly linked to the census, the next likely move after their completion, as pushed by the Narendra Modi government, is one nation, one election, synchronising Lok Sabha and assembly polls and fuelling concerns over federal rights. Taken together, these decisions will redraw India’s electoral map, redistribute political power and force every major party to rethink how it selects candidates, builds coalitions and nurtures leadership as India has entered the second quarter of the 21st century.

The caste census is likely to be the most disruptive element among these. It is a move expected to raise political temperatures, reviving anxieties among caste groups over representation, entitlements and relative power. India has already seen how sensitive the terrain can be. A backlash followed the now-paused University Grants Commission draft rules on discrimination, with the Supreme Court observing that the framework, in its proposed form, could deepen social divisions. Once fresh numbers are released after February 2027, mobilisation around new data is likely to translate into renewed demands for expanded quotas in government jobs and educational institutions, and potentially even in the private sector.

For the ruling BJP, the shift carries a complex political story. The party had long resisted a comprehensive caste census, while much of the opposition attempted to make enumeration a central electoral plank. That divide narrowed last April, when the Union government formally approved the inclusion of caste in the census, blunting the opposition’s main line of attack.

K. Laxman, BJP OBC Morcha president, Rajya Sabha MP and member of the party’s parliamentary board, described the decision as “bold and brave”. “Since 1931, no government has ventured to take such a step, despite regular demands. The BJP was never against a caste census,” he said, adding that digitisation would make the exercise a “game-changer”.

The opposition reads the government’s move differently. Congress leader Alka Lamba said the decision came only under sustained political pressure and that clarity on implementation was lacking. She cited the example of Telangana where a caste survey was conducted, and “communities were already seeing benefits”. She accused the Centre of diluting the exercise by sequencing caste enumeration alongside the general census and ahead of delimitation.

Across parties, there is broad acknowledgement that once caste numbers are public, pressure will mount to redistribute benefits across sub-groups. Laxman himself pointed to competing claims within the OBC category, where demands for sub-classification among “most backward” and “extremely backward” groups have intensified. “Depending upon the numbers and their socioeconomic conditions, the government would design welfare programmes and identify who has been left behind,” he said.

Behind these arguments lies a larger political risk. A caste census does not merely expand the data available for policymaking, it reshapes the terrain of politics itself. Fresh numbers could alter how coalitions are negotiated, particularly in the Hindi heartland. When delimitation eventually increases seats for populous states such as Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, the bargaining power of regional and caste-based parties could grow, forcing mainstream parties to recalibrate ticket distribution and alliances around demographic weight. Over the past decade, the BJP’s most powerful pitch has been hindutva, deployed as a unifying framework cutting across caste divisions. A detailed caste count, however, may reopen demands from communities that do not fit easily into broad ideological umbrellas.

There is scepticism within anti-caste scholarship about what enumeration can realistically achieve. Academic Anand Teltumbde, in his book The Caste Con Census, warns that enumeration risks reinforcing caste as the organising principle of governance. “Far from being a neutral data-gathering exercise, the census risks reinforcing caste consciousness, exacerbating social divisions rather than transcending them,” he writes. “A caste census does not simply reflect Indian society, it reshapes it.”

Within the BJP’s broader ideological ecosystem, the decision is also being read as a recalibration of how the RSS assesses social aspiration and political management. While the sangh appears to have accepted enumeration as a way to acknowledge competing demands, unease remains over its impact on internal cohesion.

Gautam Sen, professor at the London School of Economics and president of the World Association of Hindu Academicians, said he understood the political compulsions behind the decision, but warned of its social consequences. In his view, the impact “will not be good for Hindu society”, as caste counting could deepen fragmentation within the larger social framework.

If the caste census is expected to influence India’s polity and society for decades, another deep anxiety is already brewing in the southern states, where delimitation is widely seen as discriminatory. Delimitation has been frozen for nearly 50 years precisely because of this fear. Parliamentary constituencies have continued to be based on the population figures of the 1971 Census, even as India’s population has more than doubled. The freeze was a political bargain. States that invested early in education, health care and family planning would not be punished for controlling population growth. The Atal Bihari Vajpayee government reaffirmed this logic in 2001, extending the moratorium until 2026. Census 2027 points towards ending that suspension.

Once population figures are updated, seats will be redrawn and reallocated. A population-based formula will inevitably shift political power northwards, increasing representation for the Hindi heartland, particularly Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, while diminishing the relative influence of southern states where fertility rates have fallen much faster.

The anxiety has already spilled into political rhetoric. Southern leaders have urged citizens to have more children before March 1, 2027, the cut-off date for population enumeration. Andhra Pradesh Chief Minister N. Chandrababu Naidu and Tamil Nadu Chief Minister M. K. Stalin have both publicly raised the issue, using provocation to underline what they see as an impending demographic penalty for states that followed the Union’s population control advice.

Sanjeer Alam, professor at the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies, describes the core issue as redistribution of seats across states. “Population growth rates have differed widely across states,” he said, producing a demographic imbalance that will quickly turn political. Southern states could lose close to one-fifth of their current share of Lok Sabha seats. Kerala could lose nearly six seats and Tamil Nadu, around nine. Uttar Pradesh could gain 12 seats and Bihar around 10. Such a shift, Alam said, would create “a serious regional imbalance in political power”.

DMK spokesperson Salem Dharanidharan framed the issue as a design failure the Constitution did not anticipate. “Delimitation is constitutionally mandated, yes. But the Constitution did not foresee the scale of population growth India would see after independence. Tamil Nadu’s total fertility rate is now under 1.5,” he said, pointing to decades of investment in education and health care. Globally, he argued, higher education levels among women are closely linked to lower birth rates.

Non-BJP parties in the south warn that post-delimitation arithmetic could fundamentally alter national politics. Based on the BJP’s 2019 performance in 10 Hindi-speaking states, where it won roughly 80 per cent of the seats, they argue that after expansion the party could form a government even if it failed to win a single seat from the remaining states. The fear is not hypothetical. It goes to the heart of whether southern states will retain any meaningful influence over national decision-making.

The BJP’s response has been reassurance, coupled with insistence that the process cannot be postponed. Vanathi Srinivasan, national president of the BJP Mahila Morcha and MLA from Coimbatore South constituency, acknowledged the anxiety. “There is a genuine concern,” she said. “Southern states who have followed family planning and development initiatives should not feel they have been penalised.”

At the same time, she defended delimitation as unavoidable. “The delimitation process is not a government decision or a political promise,” she said. “It is mandated by the Constitution.” She said the Centre was aware of regional concerns and that ministers had assured states that no seats would be lost. Laxman was more categorical. “[Union Home Minister] Amit Shah ji has made it very clear. We will never allow the south to lose seats. Not even a single seat will be reduced,” he said. Any increase, he argued, would be proportionate and southern states would not be discriminated against.

But the dispute is not about whether seats decrease in absolute terms. It is about relative share and influence. Even without seat loss, dilution of political weight remains the central concern.

Despite these anxieties, the case for delimitation is also strong. Representation gaps have widened sharply. Sikkim has one MP for roughly five lakh people, while some constituencies elsewhere have more than 40 lakh voters. In 1976, the average Lok Sabha constituency represented about 10 lakh people. Today, that figure has ballooned, turning MPs into distant figures with limited capacity to represent constituents effectively.

How to update representation without turning it into a permanent north–south clash is the unresolved challenge. Several options are being discussed, none without problems. One is to extend the freeze yet again. Another is to expand Parliament so that one MP represents around 10 lakh people. A third proposal is to significantly increase the number of MLAs within states, since governance decisions are largely taken in state capitals. Some argue that if the Lok Sabha remains population-based, the Rajya Sabha should better reflect economic contribution or development, though this would require constitutional changes and broad political agreement.

Alam’s own proposal is narrower: use the adult population rather than total population as the basis for delimitation. He said that would distribute gains and losses more evenly and prevent extreme regional concentration of power.

On the ground, delimitation will be disruptive. Redrawn boundaries will displace sitting MPs, unsettle entrenched networks and produce political losers before winners emerge.

Once the formula for delimitation is devised and seats are redrawn, the long-awaited reform that witnessed rare political unanimity in September 2023 is expected to finally come into force. It has remained pending precisely because delimitation must precede it. The 33 per cent reservation for women was won after a long and often bruising struggle by women activists and politicians against deeply entrenched resistance to sharing power.

Women’s rights activist Ranjana Kumari recalls the effort that went into building momentum for the reform. In the mid-2000s, a group of women activists undertook a train journey known as the Chetna Yatra to mobilise public opinion across the country. “At railway stations, we rolled out a long cloth on the platform and collected signatures from whoever was passing through,” she said. “Sometimes there was no one at the station, so we garlanded ourselves. We spoke to anyone who would listen. When the journey ended, we submitted the signatures to the president, A.P. J. Abdul Kalam.”

Srinivasan said the idea itself was never radical, only delayed. “As far as the assemblies and Parliament are concerned, the bill was pending for a very long time. Political parties spoke about women’s reservation, but nothing happened. It was only because of the political will of the Modi government that it finally happened.” Despite the celebratory language around the law, many political parties remain unprepared for its consequences.

In an expanded house after delimitation, the number of reserved seats could cross 280. Across assemblies, more than 1,300 seats would be reserved for women. This would directly translate into more women entering cabinets, expanding the leadership pipeline and reshaping who eventually occupies the offices of chief minister and prime minister. When the quota is implemented, political parties will be forced to manage two disruptions simultaneously: a radically altered electoral map after delimitation and the compulsory nomination of women in one-third of constituencies.

Most parties are not structurally built for this. Candidate selection remains male-dominated. Party hierarchies are controlled overwhelmingly by men. Even after the law was passed, scepticism persists over whether there are “enough women leaders” to fill the seats. “Women are always ready,” Kumari said. “Look at city mayors. Now 30 to 40 per cent are women. Women are visible everywhere, from municipal offices to universities and corporate boards. When the law is implemented, women will be ready to step in. The problem lies with political parties.”

Srinivasan said the BJP was ahead of its rivals because it institutionalised women’s representation long before the law was passed. “We are the only political party in India that gives 33 per cent reservation within the party structure, from the booth level to the national level,” she said, and added that the system had been in place for over two decades. That structure, she said, enabled women to rise without dynastic backing.

Srinivasan pointed to local bodies as a training ground. With reservation in panchayats and municipal bodies, women have already accumulated political experience and altered governance priorities. “When women are in power,” she said, “sanitation, public health, and drinking water are the main areas that get attention.” She also argued that women now handled major portfolios at the national level. “We can see how Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman is performing.”

Lamba made the opposite case. She said the government acted under sustained political pressure and remained reluctant about actual implementation. “We kept continuous pressure on the government. Just before the 2024 Lok Sabha elections, pressure peaked and they were forced to act.”

The core question remains unresolved: who will parties field once reservation becomes compulsory? Critics argue that women’s reservation will disproportionately benefit political families, bringing more wives and daughters into legislatures. Srinivasan put the blame on the opposition parties for dynastic politics. She also pointed towards the double standards. “When men contest because of family background, no one questions it. When women do, suddenly conscience awakens.” Kumari, too, backed the charge of selective scrutiny. “Many male MPs have spent five years in Parliament without speaking or contributing,” she said. “But when it comes to women, standards are suddenly raised.”

Privately, several male MPs conceded that family members might be fielded when seats become reserved. That has revived fears of the return of the sarpanch-pati phenomenon, where elected women are seen as proxies for male relatives. Kumari dismissed the comparison. “Parliament and national assemblies are not spaces where someone can be controlled from behind,” she said.

There is, however, another structural challenge embedded in the law: rotation. Reserved seats will rotate across constituencies, meaning a woman MP could win a seat and still be unable to contest from it again. Rotation was designed to prevent capture. It may also discourage long-term constituency investment.

Alam said women MPs might hesitate to build deep local networks if they knew their seat would rotate away. Parties, too, will face conflict over who gets which constituency and for how long. He pointed to alternatives, including dual-member constituencies where one man and one woman were elected from the same seat, a model India experimented with in the 1950s and 1960s.

The combined impact of the caste census, delimitation and women’s reservation is likely to become visible by the 2029 Lok Sabha elections, unless the Centre yields to southern states’ demands to extend the freeze on delimitation. But political planning has already begun with an eye on 2034, when the government may attempt its most ambitious institutional reform yet: one nation, one election. Laxman framed it as a governance imperative. Citizens want elections in a “single stroke”, he said, because repeated polls drained money, workforce and administrative attention. Government machinery is perpetually locked into election duty. The model code of conduct freezes development.

Supporters of simultaneous polls argue that poorer families suffer the most during repeated elections. Government schools and hospitals depend on public staff who are routinely diverted for election duty. With improved technology, Laxman said, elections could now be managed together.

Politically, one nation, one election would reward parties with strong organisational dominance and national presence. By compressing electoral contests into a single national cycle, it would reduce regional churn and amplify national narratives, weakening the leverage of state-specific political voices.

Lamba rejected the proposal outright. “We have taken a clear stand in the Congress Working Committee,” she said. “We are against this concept. In a country of 140 crore people, one nation, one election cannot be conducted. Panchayats, municipalities, MLAs, MPs, MLCs—everything cannot be done together. It is against federalism.” Even some BJP allies have remained cautious, fearing erosion of regional autonomy.

The transitions embedded within Census 2027 promise changes far deeper than the public debate currently reflects. While anxieties are evident among political elites and policy circles, large sections of society and even political leadership remain disengaged from the scale of what is coming. India has navigated upheavals before: linguistic reorganisation, the expansion of reservations, the Mandal reforms. Each triggered instability before settling into a new equilibrium. This transition, however, is different in scale and design. It is stacked—one reform triggering another, each reshaping the next.

The challenge ahead is not merely implementation, but dialogue. Without sustained political engagement, the coming churn risks turning a structural reform into a prolonged conflict.

counting-caste-to-counter-caste-the-politics-of-enumeration-in-modern-india

Sat Feb 07 14:59:36 IST 2026

Last September, following a directive from the Allahabad High Court, the Uttar Pradesh government banned the use of caste titles in official communications, police files and notifications. The government also banned the use of caste titles on vehicles, in social media and even in political rallies. It is hard to question the value of the court judgment, but it could produce an opposite effect.

Quoting extensively from the writings of B. R. Ambedkar and invoking the secular spirit of the Constitution, Justice Vinod Diwakar, in his order delivered on September 16, 2025, had expressed dismay over the practice of recording caste and religious identities of the accused in police files. Such a practice in the procedural systems of the state departments and their police files rendered the official processes vulnerable to caste prejudice and discrimination.

The sweeping directive of the state government bans the use of caste titles/identities in the public sphere, without specifying the context. No wonder the directive has been welcomed only by the traditionally privileged castes. Those on the margins of the system—dalits and the OBCs—have expressed their dismay. They see it as having the potential to disable their politics and make it harder for them to raise questions of caste discrimination and deprivations. Silencing caste could function only as a cover for the underlying divisions and discriminatory structures and conceal the historically produced inequalities, which continue to shape the present-day economy and everyday social life for many of them.

The paradox

At another level, this ongoing political slugfest also serves as a good example of the paradox that the question of caste poses in contemporary India. For example, how would such a directive banning the use of caste measure up against the decision of the Union government to enumerate caste as part of the national census? Enumeration is not simply a matter of filling census schedules and compiling numbers. Once enumerated, the numbers come to acquire a life of their own. They begin to speak and could even scream, demanding active political engagement. They would reveal the underlying structure of inequality, deprecations and privileges that could produce a different kind of politics.

Caste has been a challenging subject for state actors in independent India. It was not only Ambedkar who had vehemently denounced the system of caste hierarchy and argued for its annihilation for India to become a ‘nation’, a constitutional democracy, in the true sense of the term. Most of his contemporaries agreed with him. There was a near ‘consensus’ on the subject, and even the Nehruvian elite, who took over the reins of power from the colonial masters, saw caste as antithetical to the idea of a modern nation. However, except for the reservation policy, caste could not become part of the policy narratives or a variable in the development planning initiated with much gusto soon after independence.

Perhaps the reason for this lay in the manner in which much of the critique of caste was framed. Except for Ambedkar, a large majority of the nationalist elite viewed caste merely as a cultural relic of an outdated tradition and a mental hangover. For them, moving on the path of development and modernisation would take care of it. As the classical theories of modernisation and development models—originating from American think tanks—suggested, the increasing opportunities for social and economic mobility made available by industrialisation and the modern service economy, along with a steady decline of traditional agrarian and caste-based occupations, would usher in a new society. Organised around a ‘modern ethos’, individual merit and skill acquired through formal education would transform the hierarchical order into an open system of stratification. Democratic/electoral politics, too, would give it a push. The system of universal adult franchise, where every individual voted according to their will, would make the ‘communities’ redundant in the political life of the nation.

Since caste was viewed primarily as a mental hangover, the solution thus lay in education, economic growth and exposure to urban culture. Such modernising processes were to enable the “ignorant masses” to come out of their conservative mindset. For the metropolitan elite, the caste system typically flourished in the social ecology of the Indian village. Urbanisation would help them forget it. The modern nations of the west have all forgotten their ascribed identities. India too would!

However, the unfolding of India’s modernisation did not erase caste. On the contrary, it appears to have made it far more ‘active’. It has emerged as a potent platform for articulating political aspirations, particularly among those who could not find space in the English-educated elite networks. In caste terms, the post-colonial elite was not merely a social class; it mostly came from a narrow set of non-agrarian urban “upper” castes. The language of modernity and merit only served as a caste blinder.

The political resurgence of caste

Electoral processes work through numbers. As democracy spread from metropolitan centres to the interiors of India’s regions and countryside, its grammar began to be shaped by local processes, from the ground up. The agrarian rich from the regionally dominant castes were the first to mobilise their caste communities for electoral politics. It soon went further down, to the “backwards” and the “dalits”. By the 1980s, the language of ‘social justice’ emerged as a new idiom of electoral politics.

While the regionally dominant and “backwards” could gain access to state or political power through the electoral process, their representation in government jobs and institutions of higher education remained marginal. It was in this context that the introduction of quotas for the Other Backwards Classes (OBCs), as proposed by the Mandal Commission in the early 1990s, marked the beginning of a new caste-centric phase in Indian politics. Caste was no longer merely about tradition and conservative mindset. For those on the margins of the system, it had always been a source of social exclusion and discrimination. It began to be framed in the language of citizenship.

Such a reframing of caste also changed it into a question of state policy. It began to be treated as a variable in discussions on poverty and development. However, policies require data. How does caste correlate with poverty? What is the nature of their deprivations that accompany caste-based marginalisation? How do such deprivations vary across jatis and regions? How have they changed over time? Such questions also began to be discussed in Parliament, assemblies and the courtrooms.

Hindutva could not stop it?

Many saw the rise of hindutva politics during the second decade of the current century as a defeat of the ‘social justice’ politics unleashed by the ‘Mandal moment’. With the BJP in power, Hindu consolidation gained momentum over caste-based divisions and social justice parties. Political parties, such as the SP, the RJD and the BSP, experienced a significant decline in electoral support.

However, the reality of caste as a structure of inequality and exclusion persists. The growing politicisation of the OBCs and other socially excluded categories, even among those who subscribe to hindutva politics, has also sharpened their awareness about their persistent marginality in an economy guided by neoliberal policy frames. It is in this context that the demand for including caste in the national census began to gain traction among the wide range of castes in the broader category of the ‘backwards’. Clearly, the Modi government’s decision to include the ‘caste variable’ in the much-delayed national census is intended to blunt the appeal of such demands from opposition leaders.

The author is professor of sociology at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

the-delimitation-dilemma-why-indias-north-south-divide-is-at-a-breaking-point

Sat Feb 07 14:58:50 IST 2026

Few issues are as politically explosive—and as constitutionally consequential—as the coming delimitation of Lok Sabha constituencies. For most Indians, “delimitation” is a distant technical term, but many consider it nothing less than a redistribution of political power among states. It is the moment when India redraws the map of democracy. Done right, it can renew faith in federalism; done wrong, it can deepen regional fault lines.

The constitutional provision

Article 82 of the Constitution provides that, after every census, Parliament shall enact a delimitation act and set up a delimitation commission to readjust the allocation of seats in the Lok Sabha and assemblies. The underlying idea was to ensure that the house reflects population shifts and that every MP represents roughly equal numbers of citizens.

But this ideal was challenged by the demographic reality of India. Some states—notably those in the south—implemented aggressive family planning and achieved population control. Others, particularly in the Hindi heartland, continued to see high growth. If we had simply applied Article 82 strictly after every census, the better-performing states would have lost seats, and the high-growth states would have gained them.

A historic compromise

To prevent such an undesirable outcome, Parliament enacted the 42nd Amendment in 1976, freezing the allocation of seats at 1971 census levels. This was more than a technical adjustment—it was a moral commitment: That states would not be punished for doing what the Union had asked them to do.

The 2002 extension

When the freeze was due to expire after the 2001 census, Parliament reviewed the issue. By then, the gap between high-fertility and low-fertility states had narrowed but not disappeared. Parliament decided that the rationale still held. Through the 84th Amendment, it extended the freeze until after the first census held post-2026—effectively postponing delimitation until 2031. In the accompanying resolution, Parliament effectively reaffirmed that equity among states was more important than mechanical equality of population numbers.

Why the logic still holds

The reasons that justified the freeze in 1976 and 2002 remain compelling even today. In fact, the disparities have only become more politically sensitive. Southern states, along with a few others like Punjab and West Bengal, continue to have lower fertility rates and higher social indicators. To reward them with fewer MPs now would not just penalise performance, it would weaken the incentive structure that underpins our population policy.

More importantly, federalism is not merely arithmetic. India is a Union of states which recognises that national integration requires a balance between the large and the small, the populous and the less populous.

The debate and south Indian fears

As the next round of delimitation approaches, these fears have come roaring back. Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Telangana have voiced concern that their seat share in Parliament will shrink if allocation is based on current population. Tamil Nadu has even convened a joint action committee with other affected states to demand “fair delimitation”. But what is “fair” is yet to be spelt out.

The government has offered to retain the existing proportion of seats—that is, to freeze the relative share of each state and merely increase the absolute number of MPs in proportion. This assurance seems to address the southern concerns.

But, a closer look shows it does not solve the core problem.

A possibility to remember is that after the reservation of seats for women is implemented, the size of the Lok Sabha is likely to increase. As also if the population is taken as the basis.

The problem of absolute numbers

Representation in Parliament is not about percentages; it is about the number of votes. If Tamil Nadu’s proportion remains at 7.2 per cent, its MPs may rise from 39 to roughly 64 in an 888-member house (figure quoted in Rajya Sabha debates). But, Uttar Pradesh’s MPs will simultaneously rise from 80 to about 131. The absolute vote gap between Uttar Pradesh and Tamil Nadu will widen from 41 to 67. If delimitation uses current population numbers, the gap could widen even more—to nearly 94.

In a house where each MP casts one vote, this means the Hindi heartland will have an even greater ability to push through legislation—from budgets to constitutional amendments—with or without the consent of the southern states.

This is not merely a southern grievance. It is a concern for federal stability. If large sections of the country feel politically disempowered, the centrifugal pressures on the Union will grow stronger.

What, then, is the way forward? Simply expanding Parliament without adjusting the federal balance is not enough. The most logical solution is to continue the 1971 baseline, at least for one more cycle.

Delimitation is not a mere cartographic exercise—it is a constitutional moment. The framers of the 42nd and 84th Amendments recognised that India’s unity required fairness, not just arithmetic equality. That logic is valid—perhaps even more urgent—in 2025.

If we ignore it, we risk deepening the already visible north-south divide and undermining the sense of partnership that holds this Union together. The challenge before us is to ensure that the next delimitation renews India’s federal compact instead of fracturing it. That requires courage, imagination and a willingness to think beyond the numbers. In the absence of a feasible alternative proposal, the government’s assurance seems to be the most viable solution.

The writer is former chief election commissioner and the author of a number of books on democracy, the latest being Democracy’s Heartland: Inside the Battle for Power in South Asia.

nari-shakti-vandan-adhiniyam-progressive-law-or-a-15-year-setback

Sat Feb 07 14:57:57 IST 2026

In sci-fi movies, there are the ‘chosen ones’, selected for their special attributes, and groomed for a purpose.

Soon to be released in our theatres of democracy are Ladies Legislatures, where women will be the chosen ones. By design of the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam (NSVA), 2023, which limits legislatures to utmost two-thirds male representatives, a critical threshold of women will serve as MLAs and MPs.

Ladies Legislatures has a long curtain-raiser. Census 2027, followed by delimitation, and application of rotational quota for women. The swell of female aspirants will be discernible in the run up to the polls.

The first-day-first-show of Ladies Legislatures will witness encomiums for the Act, heralding of an epoch, lauding of yin and standing ovations for female legislators. A media blitz will erupt on maiden Ladies Legislatures across India. How many women are elected, how many speak, what issues do they raise, how many get ministerial and cabinet berths, are ‘women’s issues’ foregrounded (my favourite patriarchal tripe, as if roads and jobs aren’t women’s issues), and the all time box-office smasher, how many are ‘dynasts’ (as if sons and nephews aren’t de rigueur).

Once female legislators have been counted and measured, a lot will be left unsaid.

New dawn: Ladies Legislatures

To intervene on the floor, especially on bills and hefty business, legislators are at the mercy of their parties, which decide who speaks and for how long.

Parties are likely to pass the mic to new women MLAs/MPs in the first few sessions for comments that align with party positions. While talking heads may scrutinise their performance as a yardstick of legislative competence (they don’t hold that zoom lens to male newbies), it isn’t entirely in the womens’ hands.

The very presence of female peers in every third seat will have social, psychological and legislative impact. Changed composition and perspectives will shape the business of law-making, psyche of male legislators, and normalise women steering decisions. However, change hinges on sustaining this diversity of representation.

Old wine: Political parties

Usually, male candidates make the cut based on a combination of mass support, caste and dynastic equations and purchasing power. They build support by apprenticing for years, as hangers-on of MLAs and MPs.

Women aspiring to candidacy will have few options for such apprenticeship. Parties are not preparing rosters of female cadre to level up either. Instead, cometh the hour, cometh the tried-and-tested recipe from local bodies: Party picks man; man picks the chosen one from his family. While some female leaders may get tickets, this modus operandi will largely remain in vogue. In the medium term, a reserved seat will see a man, in his wife, daughter or mother’s garb.

The wheels of change will gradually reform political parties, as the thrust of female aspirants pushes up against them. However, sustaining such pressure is resisted by lacunae in the Act, mentioned later.

Double dhamaka: Effect on the electorate

Voters electing a female MLA/MP may get dual-member constituencies. In some cases, the wife, mother, daughter, sister or daughter-in-law’s constituency will be the hegemony of the male wannabe. Unlike local bodies, where male wannabes trespass into meetings, entry into state and Union legislative halls will be verboten.

Instead, a neat division of labour will likely be devised. He navigates the turf (men are territorial), that is, constituency and constituents, while she manages the house—mirroring the classic household hierarchy where the world is his oyster and the house her pen.

Bad news: Women’s legislative careers

The NSVA mandates rotation and a sunset clause of 15 years, the lacunae alluded to earlier. Rotation will forestall women building loyal voter and cadre bases, precluding longevity, as, without demonstrable mass leadership, earning a re-election ticket will be a pipe dream. Added to the sexism of political parties that favour fielding 80 to 90 per cent male candidates across elections and chronic patriarchy of male wannabes, this ordains a curtain fall on reservation in 15 years.

When data shows gender-based lag along any social, economic and political axis of democratic development for 75 years, how can this Act deliver a level playing field for women in 15 years?

Way forward: Nurturing green shoots

Voters are the beacon of hope. Despite the parsimony of parties in fielding female candidates, voters have sent women to assemblies and Parliament, often with a greater hit rate than men. In local bodies, 23 states/UTs have raised womens’ quota to 50 per cent, and many women win in general seats. It is eminently possible over time that more than the allotted share of women become legislators.

Over time, is the key phrase.

Ingrained sexism that political parties have failed to curb in 70 years, and pernicious patriarchy that society has failed to surmount in centuries cannot be wished away in 15 years. The very motivation for the Act is the struggle of male politicians to accept women as autonomous political entities.

The issue here isn’t only where it leaves women, but, where it leaves India. What is the point of a progressive law that flips us back to square one in 15 years?

Junking the sunset clause will engender long-term socialisation of male politicians to female leadership. Excising rotation will ensure that women are given their due place in houses and cancel male wannabes in one fell stroke. In addition, abiding processes to accord requisite importance to private member bills will fillip the women’s touch in legislation.

As it stands, the NVSA cannot deliver social justice; it will be a fleeting freebie.

The government needs to awaken to the realities of a so-called women’s quota. What the Act really delivers will be an upper limit on male-dominated seats and a lesson on representation. A guide to sharing, if you will, for male politicians. If amendments are enacted to fix the lacunae, the Act can herald renaissance, rather than the recycled, testosterone-ridden legislatures that feature women as limited-edition showcases.

The writer works on gender and politics and tweets at @tarauk.

a-fight-for-soul-and-identity-the-week-reports-from-bangladesh

Mon Feb 02 16:23:43 IST 2026

Dhaka and Mymensingh

Come, make merry and rejoice

There reaches the summer storm,

Flying the flag of the new and the young

He is the eternal beauty

Who knows how to destroy and build again.

When Kazi Nazrul Islam—born in undivided India and laid to rest in Dhaka—wrote these lines, now etched outside the Nazrul Institute amid the crowded streets of the Bangladesh capital, he could not have foreseen their many afterlives. Would he have imagined how his words, once claimed by the builders of Bangladesh in 1971, would return more than half a century later as a language of cultural resistance in 2026? The culture he nurtured is being politicised and contested in the most brutal way. Today, the greatest tragedy of Bangladesh’s struggle is the hundreds of nameless, faceless young people who have lost their voice in the roar of rebellion, leaving behind families struggling to bear the loss. This cultural war, which continues after the July 2024 rebellion, is stretching Bangladesh’s social fabric to its limits. The killings—whether political, religious or criminal—have become the final outcome of a broken democratic system.

Sharif Osman Hadi, one of the prominent leaders of the students-led July 2024 rebellion who set up Inquilab Manch, an Islamist revolutionary cultural platform, lies buried beside Nazrul after being shot by assailants on December 12, 2025. Not far away, at Udichi, one of the country’s oldest cultural institutions, Nazrul’s poetry was burnt to ashes a week later, the embers bringing tears to its guardians. Both loved Nazrul. Yet in death and destruction, they stand apart, hurt and angry.

The distance between poetry and blood has never been far in Bangladesh. “Our culture and armed resistance merged during the Liberation War,” says Rafiqul Hasan Khan Jinnah, an elderly cultural activist, standing in front of piles of burnt literature at Udichi. “We carried songs in one hand and guns in the other. I was studying medicine in Dhaka when I joined the student movement in the late 1960s. The Pakistani government had banned Rabindranath Tagore’s songs. We moved from village to village in hiding, singing revolutionary songs and taking up arms when necessary,” says 80-year-old Rafiqul, who is now settled in the United States. He is shocked to see culture reduced to a tool of power, where young people are becoming expendable and the survivors are inheriting not just new memories of resistance, but mourning as well.

The struggle, says Tahmina Yasmin Neela, vice president of Udichi, will continue. “The people of Bangladesh have actively fought autocracy and religious fundamentalism in 1971, 1990 and again in 2024. They demand secularism, non-discrimination, equal rights and dignity for all.” The July 2024 rebellion, she says, symbolised a stand against all forms of extremism and instability in the country: “In recent days, cultural spaces have been attacked and fear has been spread by undemocratic forces. Yet, once again, people are standing together and resisting.”

The loss runs deep across the left, the right and the centre. One side clings to an older Bangladeshi Bengali cultural identity, one in which figures like Nazrul embodied a world where India was still close to their heart. Another side rejects the past as they knew it, seeking to redefine identity anew, not through Nazrul’s emotional attachment but through his spirit of rebellion, asserting a distinct Bangladeshi Muslim identity.

“Don’t see us through the prism of a broad Bengali culture but through a Bangladeshi Muslim cultural lens,” says Fatima Tasnim Zuma, sitting next to racks of books by new authors, graffiti artists and handmade art and craft on display at the Inquilab Manch. The two-room set-up is perched on the second floor of a building in a narrow lane on Kazi Nazrul Islam Avenue in Dhaka. Not everyone can enter, but Zuma lets us through.

Zuma, who is in her 30s, comes from Cox’s Bazar, far from Dhaka’s corridors of power, yet her adult life has been influenced by political violence. Her political consciousness has been shaped by a refusal to allow culture to legitimise repression. Zuma met Hadi years ago through university networks, but the student protests opened up opportunities to act on their ideological convictions. “We used to spend hours debating how important it is to understand history from multiple perspectives, especially through the sacrifices of our own freedom fighters in the 1971 Liberation War,” she says. “We are not anti-India. We are against Indian hegemony. It is also not about religion, it is about domination.”

Her family feared for her safety. Over time, they gave in to her resolve. “Now they are inspired,” she smiles. “Our role is to create pressure for justice for Hadi, for stabilising the state before voting. We have no faith in political parties.” Her public profile rose after the September 2025 Dhaka University Students’ Union elections, where the Jamaat-e-Islami’s student wing, Bangladesh Chhatra Shibir, secured 23 of 28 posts. Fatima won her position with 10,631 votes.

Campus politics has become another arena where cultural identities are being weaponised. “Shibir won not because campuses suddenly became uniformly Islamist,” says Zillur Rahman, executive director of the Centre for Governance Studies in Dhaka, “but because the Awami League’s student wing, the Bangladesh Chhatra League, collapsed, the opposition space fractured and the Shibir emerged as the only organised force in a moment of political reset.”

Ironically, Hadi nursed political ambitions. “He wanted to contest elections from the Dhaka-8 constituency as an independent, where the Jamaat was standing in opposition, projecting its own candidate Dr Md Helal Uddin,” says Asif Bin Ali, a doctoral fellow at Georgia State University in the United States. “Yet in his death, Hadi has become a rallying point for the Jamaat in its election campaign.”

For other youngsters like Mehedi Hasan, 32, a former soldier from Barishal and member of the Inquilab Manch, expressing anger and dissent has become inseparable from his love for poetry. “I have found a voice and I must speak. If people don’t listen, that’s okay.” Hasan hails from a middle-class family and, like many aspiring youngsters, pursued an MBA to tap newer career opportunities. However, caught in a cycle of rejecting the old for the new, he is uncertain about his future. “I just keep reciting Nazrul,” his voice trails off.

The uncertainty is palpable as poets, artists, thinkers, journalists and many young people worry that there may be an attempt to erase the wide range of opinions and ideologies that sustain a multi-dimensional social cohesion. A well-known young poet based in Dhaka, who refuses to be named for fear of retribution, says, “A situation is being created where if someone does not speak in my language, I will not let them speak at all. Nationalism is certainly necessary, but extreme nationalism is terrifying. Tagore always envisioned the Mother of the World’s shawl spread on this country’s soil.” Bangladesh is meant to embrace humanity at large—culturally open, plural and welcoming—rather than wrap itself tightly in a narrow, exclusionary nationalism.

Colourfully decorated rickshaws run past the narrow street leaving the Inquilab Manch behind. Not far away, young girls and boys are celebrating their love of Nazrul through open conversations about shared Bengali culture, describing the canvas of Bangladesh from the prism of the past to the present. “Forces that oppose Bangladesh’s cultural traditions have always existed, but they become louder when democracy weakens,” explains Dr Sarwar Ali, secretary of Chhayanaut, one of Bangladesh’s most renowned cultural institutions, founded in 1961.

The evening sky lights up in Dhaka as young girls wearing ankle bells run about the brightly decorated corridors of this cultural hub, where expressions of rebellion or compassion are taught through dance and song. The day’s classes are over and parents wait outside for their children, who look forward to another day of joyful expression. Chhayanaut, widely known for promoting Bengali music, heritage and culture, was attacked a month ago by assailants who broke instruments and ransacked rooms. Broken tablas and other musical instruments are stacked in a corner, almost artistically rejecting the shallowness of attempts to repress an inclusive society.

Ali, 80, places this moment in historical perspective. “These attacks on people, cultural spaces and media houses are not new,” he says. “Cultural institutions represent openness and plurality. When they are attacked, democracy itself is under attack.” He is also careful to distinguish faith from extremism and violence. “This is not about religion. It is about narrow interpretations of identity.”

What has changed in recent months is the brazen visibility of violence and the dangerous attempt to frame culture as the enemy. During the July 2024 rebellion, a large number of arms and ammunition were looted from police and other law enforcement agencies. The numbers were pegged at around 5,000 firearms and more than 6.5 lakh rounds of ammunition. The police claim to have recovered some, but thousands are believed to be still missing. “I plan to procure an arms licence,” says a filmmaker in his 40s who has been vocal in his criticism of the past regime. “I don’t feel safe in the country any more. My wife and young daughter are also under threat. I keep receiving threat calls.”

The scars run deep, beginning in Dhaka’s traffic-ridden lanes and opening into wide stretches of green fields along the Brahmaputra, landscapes that once displayed the richness of fertile land, art, literature and folk culture. The five-hour drive to Mymensingh, about 120km north of Dhaka, shows the development of highways over the last few years, making travel smoother, though some flyovers are still under construction as infrastructure work has slowed recently. Markets in small village clusters along the highways are teeming with people going about their daily business, selling wares and vegetables. Mymensingh is one of the largest electoral constituencies in Bangladesh, but today it carries the blot of a gruesome killing in one of its smallest villages, Tarakanda. The fields of Tarakanda wear a solemn look as memories of a local man being hung from a tree and burnt by a mob on December 18 tell the story of a hollowed social structure.

The Robidas family stands as a testament to this breakdown of civil society in a country struggling to rebuild. Meghna Robidas, 20, stands speechless before a photograph of her husband Dipu Chandra Das holding their one-and-a-half-year-old daughter in his arms, wondering whether she will be able to rebuild her life. Dipu’s mother, Shefali Robidas, has been in a state of shock ever since. Dipu worked at a government-owned garment factory in Bhakula during the week and returned home to Tarakanda on weekends. The entire family waited eagerly for his return. His monthly income ranged between 18,000 and 20,000 taka, which family members said was sufficient to manage household expenses.

Dilip, Dipu’s cousin, said he had no enmity with anyone in their village of around 50 households, largely inhabited by members of a minority community. He said the family had close friends from the majority community and had always lived peacefully. “He was promoted recently and his colleagues got jealous. They got into a fight with him that day and beat him up before throwing him out of the factory premises. Then the mob took over.” The family has been visited by workers from the BNP, the Jamaat and even the Awami League offering help. Awami supporters are scared to disclose their identity.

The family’s faces light up at the mention of India. “Our family links go back to Jalpaiguri. I have been a fan of Mithun Chakraborty,” says one of them. Dilip, who plays the flute and sings at community functions, is an aspiring musician. “Will you see my Facebook page?” he asks excitedly, briefly breaking into English. Dilip sings from the heart. He may not be as eloquent as celebrated poets and singers, but his raw passion brings life to the forlorn community.

Today, as people in Bangladesh struggle to define their identity, the impatience that accompanies this search has bred unease and mistrust. What makes the situation more precarious is the frustration that has built up among the youth who took part in the student-led protests. Destruction is brutal and fast. Rebuilding is slow. It demands patience, humility and care.

Mahfuz Alam, the brain behind the student-led protests, symbolises this struggle to move forward after the mass euphoria has faded. “Today, Bangladesh is stuck in a familiar cycle: everyone is searching for someone to blame. That happens everywhere after a popular mass uprising.” Alam, who recently quit his role as an adviser in the interim government to fight elections, decided not to contest after he felt the student-led party NCP had compromised its aspiration to create a new political system by joining hands with the Jamaat-e-Islami for vote-bank politics, while the BNP was too top-heavy to make space for him. “The BNP and the Jamaat have already recaptured institutions without being in power. I saw this first-hand in the government.”

“Bangladesh politics has been pushed back into a binary—secularists versus Islamists,” he says. “We were trying to move beyond that, to focus on nation building rather than cultural or ideological warfare. Today, politics is once again trapped in the 1971 narrative. The aspirations of 2024 are nowhere to be seen.”

So where does hope reside? It lies, stubbornly, in democracy. As Bangladesh prepares for its first competitive national election in nearly two decades, the challenge is enormous. A prolonged absence of electoral legitimacy and a society fractured along political, cultural and identity lines make this task difficult. The ordinary Bangladeshi is neither impressed nor enthused. He is nervously hoping for change that secures his daily commute from home to work without fear of petty crime, theft, extortion, killing and hooliganism suffered especially over the last one and a half years. Others hope the political class has learnt its lesson, that the cycle of corruption finally ends and their long-missed freedom to speak, share and criticise can be earned back.

“I will vote for stability and inclusivity. We want good relations with our neighbours. We are waiting to travel to India,” says Ismail, who works in a coffee shop and wants to explore new opportunities. For those whose daily life is a struggle, casting a vote is far down the priority list. “I have never voted. If I can earn daily bread for my family, that is enough,” says Haroon, a daily wager in Mymensingh.

For women like Zamila, who grew up in Dhaka and voted for the Awami League when she turned 18 in 2008, the faith has worn thin. She says she has not found her name on the voter list since. “I tried to vote in 2013, but my name was not there. I am not sure if it will be there this time either. So I am not going to vote.” Zamila is pragmatic. “Hasina might have been authoritarian and corrupt. But she brought development to the country. I really hope whoever comes to power brings more jobs, infrastructure and facilities for people.”

In this altered moment, the BNP appears to hold an electoral advantage, widely seen as capable of restoring stability, while the Jamaat is also expected to increase its vote share.

Since the mid-1990s, Bangladesh politics has largely been framed as a binary contest, the Awami League on one side and an ‘anti-Awami League’ front on the other. That front was anchored by the BNP and the Jamaat-e-Islami. “It was a purely electoral alliance against the Sheikh Hasina-led Awami League,” says Dr Faham Abdus, a Bangladesh-born researcher and political commentator.

That strategy paid off handsomely in 2001, when the alliance secured a two-thirds majority in parliament. Yet, beyond opposition to Awami League dominance, the partnership had little ideological coherence. “The BNP has long positioned itself as a liberal, inclusive, centre-right party in the Bangladeshi context, culturally Muslim but politically non-Islamist,” says Asif. “In contrast, the Jamaat is explicitly Islamist-oriented.” Economically, however, all major Bangladeshi parties occupy a centrist space, making culture and political identity the real fault lines. “Once the Awami League is not in the electoral fray,” says BNP general secretary Mirza Fakhrul Alamgir, “the BNP and the Jamaat have naturally come to opposite sides.”

However, Jamaat leader Mir Ahamad Bin Quasem, popularly known as Barrister Arman, believes there are no absolutes in politics. “We are expecting the Jamaat alliance to give a very close contest to the BNP and if there is a tie, electoral pressure can mount and throw surprises.” Arman, a Jamaat candidate from the Mirpur constituency, is pinning his hopes on common grievances such as alleged enforced disappearances and human rights violations during the Hasina regime to build a working relationship with the BNP. For him, this relationship is personal. His rival candidate, Sanjida Islam Tuli, a human rights activist and founder of Mayer Daak, a platform for families of victims of enforced disappearance, is like a sister to him. “Tuli’s brother is still missing,” says Arman. “I wish her well. I praise her on every platform.” Asked whether the Jamaat leadership frowns upon this, he says, “This is an emotional issue for us. We don’t want to fight our political rivals. We have common issues to address.” The emotive issues Arman refers to resonate across parties. Tuli shares similar empathy for Arman, whose father went missing between 2016 and 2024 and was freed after the July protests.

The BNP is banking not only on modern conservatives and centrists but also on sections of disillusioned Awami League supporters who prioritise law and order over ideological loyalty. Another advantage for the BNP is its early declaration that it wishes to avoid revenge politics and focus on stable governance. “Khaleda Zia made it clear that the BNP does not want to continue the cycle of vengeance,” says an observer. “That stance matters in a country exhausted by conflict.”

The Jamaat-e-Islami, meanwhile, is witnessing a noticeable resurgence and its vote share has risen from the single-digit figures it commanded two decades ago. While the BNP struggled with organisational problems following the 17-year exile of Tarique Rahman, the Jamaat, despite being banned under Hasina’s regime, used the time to work on the ground and build a strong cadre base. A recent example is the victory of its student wing, Chhatra Shibir, in the Dhaka University elections.

The NCP-Jamaat alliance is already being courted by global players. Whether it is the European Union or American diplomats such as Tracey Ann Jacobson, the US chargé d’affaires till early January this year who hosted NCP leaders like Nahid Islam in recent months, or US trade representatives holding virtual meetings with the Jamaat leaders, interest in Bangladesh’s democratic transition extends beyond the neighbourhood of India, Pakistan or China.

For the Jamaat, the alliance with NCP offers an opportunity to openly claim the July movement and put forward young faces to counter the BNP’s advantage. For the NCP, which has little vote outreach beyond Dhaka, it is a question of political survival. “We are clearly explaining that this is an electoral alliance made out of practical necessity,” says Nahid Islam, convenor of the NCP, aware of the disillusionment among some prominent faces such as Tasnim Zara, who resigned in protest, arguing that an alliance with Jamaat goes against the ethos of the July protests.

“People believed there would be new thinking, new politics. But if the outcome is another power-seeking alliance, then we must ask, what exactly is new politics?” says Shamaruh Mirza, a biomedical scientist and human rights activist based in Australia. Mirza says the BNP’s progressive plan outlined by Tarique Rahman has resonance among the diaspora. Back home, she concedes, whoever governs next must remember that “authority without humility will breed resistance. The country cannot afford that again.”

The binary contest, however, cannot be viewed in isolation. It is a by-product of the fact that the Awami League, with its large vote base, finds itself out of the electoral fray. All major political parties are keenly aware that the conduct of the previous three elections discredited the Awami League and that any misadventure now could invite a similar fate. For, whichever side comes to power, public expectations will remain high. Beyond debates over culture, identity or history, real issues on the ground, such as corruption, favouritism, institutional integrity and livelihoods, will shape voting behaviour.

This makes the fate of the Awami League’s traditional vote base one of the election’s greatest uncertainties. Three scenarios dominate political thinking. A significant portion of Awami supporters may simply abstain, especially in the absence of familiar symbols, leadership and organisational confidence. Others may shift strategically to the BNP, viewing it as the only force capable of restoring order and preventing further breakdowns in law and governance. “A much smaller fraction may drift towards the Jamaat in highly localised contexts, though this is unlikely to be decisive at the national level,” adds Asif.

There is also a growing sentiment among Awami League cadres and sections of the public that the party must reinvent itself in the post-Hasina period. For now, the prevailing view is that the BNP will be the principal beneficiary of any Awami decline, not the Jamaat. At the same time, the Jamaat is positioning itself as a major power broker in a post-election scenario. “Pre-election coordination between the Jamaat and the student-led party born out of the 2024 movement has normalised it as a mainstream electoral partner,” says Zillur. “At the same time, it has created tensions within youth politics, where secular and liberal voices remain uneasy.” Critics continue to raise serious concerns, particularly over minority rights, women’s rights and cultural pluralism, as well as the party’s historical baggage. “If they emerge as the second force or coalition pivot, they will shape the character of the next government,” explains Zillur.

For now, all eyes are on whether the elections can be conducted without violence or booth-level rigging and whether voters will be given a genuine opportunity to choose. Keeping a close watch is also the army, which has positioned itself as a non-partisan and stabilising force during the country’s democratic transition. This comes with a rider. “Historically, the army has had significant influence in our society,” says Major General (retd) Fazle Elahi Akbar, founder chairman of the Dhaka-based Foundation for Strategic and Development Studies. “If elected leaders fail again, the army will once more side with the people.” A breakdown of the electoral process would mean the army stepping in, regaining control and clearing the path for a caretaker government until democracy can be tested again. That is the last option the country and its people may not wish to exercise this time.

The struggle to embrace democracy in Bangladesh, therefore, is not merely an electoral process. It is a test of whether a new Bangladesh can create space where culture, dissent, history and power coexist without fear or favour. More importantly, the larger question that remains unanswered is whether the country can finally end the cycle of assassinations and exiles.

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Sat Jan 31 12:53:22 IST 2026

Interview/ Shamaruh Mirza, Bangladeshi human rights activist and medical scientist based in Australia

This is the first election in Bangladesh where there is no female prime ministerial candidate after Sheikh Hasina’s exile and Khaleda Zia’s demise. In a country that has seen two female prime ministers, the absence of women at the helm of the election campaign has raised concerns about the political representation of women, who form half the population. Shamaruh Mirza, a Bangladeshi human rights activist and medical scientist based in Australia, says the country has progressed because of women. “You cannot reform institutions meaningfully if women are excluded from political power. Parliament shapes institutions. If parliament is dominated by men, institutions will be built by men alone.”

Elections are being held after one and a half years of the interim government. Do you believe these elections will finally be free and fair?

The nation—both inside the country and in the diaspora—had been waiting for August 5 for a long time. After years of oppression, crimes, political persecution, money laundering, and looting under the Sheikh Hasina regime, July and August 5 marked a historic rupture. We witnessed the fall of an authoritarian regime, and that moment was deeply significant.

But what was required afterwards was a democratic transition to an elected government. Alongside that, there were two other critical agendas. First, justice. The nation needed closure. What happened on the streets of Dhaka in July was unbearable, and people wanted accountability for crimes committed over the last 16 years, including July 2024.

Second, there was an urgent need for reform of state institutions—law enforcement agencies, police, Rapid Action Battalion, the judiciary, and the civil administration—because these institutions had been deeply politicized and corrupted under the previous regime.

Reform, however, is a continuous process. Unfortunately, the interim government placed disproportionate emphasis on reforms through commissions and prolonged discussions, while losing focus on two equally urgent priorities: political transition through elections, and justice. Closure came late, and even then, there were questions about the process—particularly since strong evidence was circulating publicly before being formally presented in court.

Still, the verdict brought a sense of relief. Now we are approaching elections, hopefully next month. There are uncertainties, but we remain hopeful.

As someone who has worked closely with the diaspora for over a decade, what worries you most at this moment?

My biggest concern is the near absence of women in the political process. This is deeply troubling. When the nation united against the Sheikh Hasina regime, men and women from all classes stood together. Never did we imagine that, in a national election, women would make up less than five per cent of nominees—despite being half the population. BNP has nominated some women, but the other alliance has only the NCP nominating two women. Several women leaders have already resigned from that platform in protest against alliances with Islamist parties. As someone who believes in liberal democracy, women’s empowerment, and inclusive development, this is my greatest frustration.

Does this mean you feel disappointed with the student leaders who spearheaded the protests?

Yes, I am disappointed—deeply so—because of my ideological beliefs and values. The nation placed immense hope in these young leaders. People believed there would be new political arrangements, new thinking, new politics. But if, after all that talk, the outcome is simply another power-seeking alliance, then one must ask: what exactly is “new politics”?

I understand political dynamics and electoral compulsions. But as a woman, a human rights advocate, and someone who has consistently stood up for women in Bangladesh and abroad, this is unacceptable. You cannot reform institutions meaningfully if women are excluded from political power. Parliament shapes institutions. If parliament is dominated by men, institutions will be built by men alone.

Bangladesh has progressed because of women—whether in garments, education, healthcare, or industry. We rely on women for development but hesitate to empower them politically. That contradiction is alarming.

What are the diaspora’s expectations from BNP and its leadership, particularly Tarique Rahman?

Tarique Rahman has already outlined his vision through 31 proposals, which were initially presented a few years ago. Now, as he speaks more about the manifesto, certain priorities are becoming clearer: women’s participation, healthcare, and education. These are critical areas. Our healthcare system is in dire condition. I recently visited Thakurgaon and saw a public hospital ICU room with no equipment inside it. That’s the reality. Any government must prioritize healthcare. Education reform is equally vital. Women’s empowerment is another key pillar. The proposed family card system—issued in the woman’s name—is an important step. That is real empowerment.

I do see potential in Tarique Rahman’s plans. Bangladesh must be rebuilt by addressing the needs and rights of 50 percent of its population, not marginalizing them.

There have been concerns about law and order and communal tensions since July 2024. How do you assess the situation?

After any major uprising, some instability is expected—especially under an unelected interim government. Law enforcement agencies were shaken, and disorder was inevitable in the early phase. That said, the government could have acted more decisively to curb violence.

Regarding communal issues, I honestly do not see widespread communal attacks. In most cases involving minorities, disputes are about land, property, or employment—not religious targeting. I visited minority-dominated areas in Thakurgaon and spoke directly with residents. They do not feel attacked by the majority community. In fact, economically vulnerable majority populations often face similar or greater hardships. That said, minorities are psychologically more vulnerable, and the state must give them special attention and protection. That responsibility remains paramount.

What are your personal memories of Khaleda Zia, and how do you see Tarique Rahman carrying forward that legacy?

Khaleda Zia was an elegant and inclusive leader. Internally, she was deeply democratic. She listened to her colleagues, sought advice, and could be persuaded by strong arguments and logic. Many people don’t know this side of her leadership. Tarique Rahman is a different personality, as every leader is. But if there is one quality he should—and does—inherit from her, it is inclusiveness.

Bangladesh has suffered under arrogant leadership. Sheikh Hasina was aggressive and dismissive of dissent. Khaleda Zia was the opposite. People do not accept arrogance from those in power. Whoever governs next must remember this: authority without humility breeds resistance. The country cannot afford that again.

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Sat Jan 31 16:47:25 IST 2026

Exclusive interview/Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, secretary general, Bangladesh Nationalist Party

Following the passing of Bangladesh’s first female prime minister, Begum Khaleda Zia, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party has turned to seasoned leaders such as Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, a long-time aide to the family of party founder Ziaur Rahman and a senior statesman within the BNP. As the party prepares for national elections amid the post-Sheikh Hasina transition, Alamgir insists the party will avoid any post-poll alliance with the Jamaat-e-Islami. In an exclusive interview with THE WEEK, he outlines the BNP’s reform agenda, its approach to India and its vision for Bangladesh’s political future. Excerpts:

With elections just a few days away, how confident are you about free, fair and participatory polls?

People in Bangladesh want an election that is free, fair and participatory. For nearly 15 years, citizens were effectively denied their right to vote. There is an entire generation—young people between 18 and 30—who have never truly experienced voting. Naturally, there is strong aspiration among voters to finally exercise that right. I believe voter turnout will be quite good. I do not anticipate any major unrest or serious obstacles that could undermine the election process. The Election Commission is functioning responsibly and the government appears sincere about holding the polls. In our subcontinent, some problems during election campaigns are always present, but I do not think they are severe enough to obstruct a free and fair election. Political parties are actively campaigning and everything is set for people to vote.

There is speculation about a pre-poll or post-poll alliance to form a national unity government.

During the last 15 years, when we were fighting against an authoritarian regime, we built alliances with several like-minded political parties, both from the left and the right. Altogether, nearly 20–24 political parties stood together with the BNP in that struggle. When we announced our 31-point reform agenda, we clearly stated that if we formed the government, it would be a consensus-based government involving those parties that stood with us during the democratic movement. That commitment remains. However, parties that were not part of that struggle will not be included.

Does that include the Jamaat-e-Islami?

No. We have no agreement with the Jamaat-e-Islami and I do not see the Jamaat being part of a BNP-led national government.

Why did the BNP not form an alliance with the National Citizen Party formed by the students?

We tried. But the NCP demanded a large number of seats, which was not feasible. We are confident our candidates can win those seats, but we are not sure NCP candidates can win with a completely new symbol. In Bangladesh, symbols matter a great deal in elections.

This election is also different because the Awami League is not participating.

I cannot say with certainty. What I know is that some independent candidates previously associated with the Awami League may contest. According to reports, Sheikh Hasina instructed her party not to participate. The election process is already underway and people are prepared to vote. I do not think the Awami League’s absence will significantly affect the election. Ideally, they should have re-emerged with new leadership and a new image, but that did not happen, and now there is no scope for it, as Sheikh Hasina does not allow alternative leadership within the party.

Tarique Rahman’s return has generated attention.

There is tremendous momentum. His return has created genuine excitement, particularly among young people. In his first address, he laid out a clear vision focused on human development. He emphasised women’s empowerment, farmer welfare and employment. The proposed farmer card system would ensure fair prices for inputs and better returns for produce. He committed to creating employment for at least one crore young people within 18 months and outlined mechanisms to achieve this. Judicial independence is another core commitment. Press freedom will be fully restored. On constitutional reform, he proposed limiting the prime minister to a maximum of two terms and establishing a balance of power between the prime minister and the president. Education reform will focus on need-based schooling and merit-based higher education. Health care reform is also central, with a commitment to building an effective and accessible health system.

There is growing anti-India sentiment in political discourse. What issues need immediate resolution?

First, water-sharing issues must be resolved sincerely, not just discussed. Second, border killings must stop. This is unacceptable in any civilised society. Third, trade issues need fair handling. The recent cricket-related incident was unfortunate and unnecessary. It triggered reactions on both sides. These matters should be addressed through immediate dialogue, keeping sovereignty, self-respect and mutual trust in mind. Indian Foreign Minister S. Jaishankar’s visit during Begum Khaleda Zia’s bereavement was a positive gesture.

How big is the Sheikh Hasina factor going forward, especially in India-Bangladesh relations?

She is a factor, but not an insurmountable one. Sheikh Hasina created this crisis by dismantling democratic institutions and centralising power. In the long run, she will not remain relevant in politics. Relations between India and Bangladesh can and should move forward beyond her.

Finally, has Bangladesh gone soft on Pakistan despite the unresolved issue of 1971?

Pakistan must apologise for the 1971 genocide. That remains our position. At the same time, all neighbouring countries must work together for regional development and the welfare of their people.