Recent protests at India Gate, in the name of pollution, suddenly turned into support for Naxal sympathisers including those killed in operations by our security forces. This is a deeply troubling trend. Anyone who glorifies armed insurgents and openly attacks our security forces, whether they call themselves “activists,” “students,” or “environmental protesters,” must face strict action under the law.

Freedom of protest does not mean freedom to support violence against India. Naxalism has taken the lives of thousands of soldiers, tribals, school teachers, engineers, and ordinary citizens. It has burned schools, stopped roads, killed development workers, and used poor villagers as shields. Supporting those who wage a war against the nation is not dissent it is betrayal. The Government must deal firmly with such groups. The message must be clear, India will never tolerate anti-security activities hiding behind activism. Whether someone wears a uniform or holds a placard, if they justify armed rebellion against the country, they must be treated as supporters of terrorism.

A democracy has room for debate, for protest, and for criticism but not for those who celebrate the deaths of our soldiers. The time has come to draw a strict line, you cannot stand with India and stand with armed insurgents at the same time

The greatest tragedy of Indian Leftism is not that it fought inequality. Fighting inequality is noble. The tragedy is that it turned the language of opposition into a habit of opposing India itself. Instead of constructive struggle, it embraced intellectual chaos. Instead of championing workers’ rights, it glorified violent revolution. Instead of nurturing a healthy nationalism rooted in dignity and fraternity, it embraced foreign dictatorships as ideological models. A political tool of justice slowly transformed into a network of justification for disorder. Those who have witnessed the brutality of Naxalism understand the reality behind these fancy slogans. Security forces are killed, schools are burned, development projects are blocked, and tribal communities are used as human shields. All this destruction is done in the name of “protecting tribals,” whereas the tribals themselves repeatedly demand roads, schools, healthcare, and opportunities for their children. Naxalism is not a struggle against inequality it is the exploitation of the poor to capture power. The guns in jungles and the intellectual voices in cities form a dangerous partnership: one pulls the trigger, the other writes the justification. One attacks the nation with weapons, the other attacks the nation’s morale through words.

The most revealing contradiction is not that the Left opposes America. Its hatred of capitalism is centuries old. The real question is why does its anti-America sentiment transform into silence or admiration when it comes to China? China is the world’s largest authoritarian factory. It crushes civil liberties, tortures millions of Uyghur Muslims, erases Tibetan culture, censors free speech, and threatens democracies like Taiwan. It has repeatedly violated Indian borders and attacked Indian soldiers. Yet when it comes to China, Indian Leftists suddenly lose their voice. Has there ever been a large-scale Left-backed protest against China’s crimes? Has there been loud condemnation of Uyghur genocide or suppression of Tibet? No. Because for the Indian Left, China is not a foreign aggressor it is the ideological motherland. This is not political disagreement, it is intellectual slavery.

The Left in India projects itself as the champion of dissent. But dissent in democracy is meant to strengthen the nation, not destroy it. The Left nurtures dissent that dreams of breaking the nation into pieces. It gives moral protection to slogans openly calling for India’s destruction. It dismisses the killing of soldiers in the name of “human rights.” It turns universities into battlegrounds of unrest under the banner of “protest.” When violent mobs attack the state, the Left supplies ideological legitimacy. This is not democratic freedom, it is the assassination of democracy through academic language.

The reason Indian Leftists fear nationalism is simple, nationalism unites society. National unity reduces caste conflict, decreases divisive politics, and builds a collective identity. Unity is the graveyard of the Left’s political strategy. Left politics survives only when society is divided by class, by caste, by linguistic and regional identity. A united India leaves no room for ideological chaos. That is why Leftist narratives target the Army, martyrdom, and national security. They are not opposing the Army; they are opposing the idea of India’s military strength. They are not opposing a government; they are opposing the idea of Indian unity. They are not opposing policies; they are opposing Indian self-pride.

Thus, the core question today is not whether Left ideology is right or wrong. The question is whether Indian Leftism stands with India or not. Will it release itself from China’s shadow? Will it stop romanticising violent revolution? Will it stop acting as the moral lawyer for Naxal killings? Can it fight inequality while respecting the nation that gives it the freedom to protest?

Leftism can play a constructive role in India if and only if it puts Indian national interest above imported revolutions. The Left must accept that foreign doctrines cannot be placed above Indian blood. If it continues to justify separatism and violent extremism, then it ceases to be an ideology and becomes a tool for destabilising India. Indian Leftism stands at a historic crossroads. It must choose whether it wants to become a patriotic Left rooted in Indian soil, or remain a distant branch of foreign ideologies. A patriotic Left that values national unity can contribute meaningfully to democracy. But a Left that worships China, glorifies violence, and supports urban separatism has no future in this country.

India can accept Leftism. But India will never accept anti-India Leftism. If the Left learns to put the nation before its ideology, it will have a place in our democracy. But if it continues to put ideology above the nation, then it must hear clearly: this country is not run by theories written in foreign capitals it is run by the will and unity of the Indian people.

The post The Left in India appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

In the comments, people repeated the same line: “So relatable, I do this too,” and “I also have OCD.”

At first glance, it feels harmless. But the ease with which we use the phrase “I have OCD” made me pause. What many people label as OCD is simply a preference for neatness or organization not a disorder. OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) involves intrusive, unwanted thoughts (obsessions) and repetitive behaviours or mental acts (compulsions) performed to reduce distress, often consuming significant time and impairing daily functioning. But when we casually attach diagnostic labels to everyday habits, we blur the line between normal behaviour and genuine mental health challenges. Calling ordinary tidiness “OCD” trivializes the struggles of those who actually live with the disorder.

A few days later, during a discussion, someone confidently told me, “I have OCD.” When I asked how they knew, the person replied, “My house must be neat.” That moment stayed with me. It showed how easily people attach clinical labels to ordinary behaviour. Similarly, the other day I have heard someone calling other “he is a narcissist,”

I remember one day we were sitting and talking when someone said, “Be chaz borderline.” Before I could say anything, my close friend, who has a psychology background, responded:

“Agar che borderline ashekh che ashekh ni yetan yethkin behith” (If you really had borderline, you wouldn’t be sitting here like this). Because we had interacted with her several times and nothing about her behaviour matched what someone with borderline actually goes through.

The other day someone said “mae chu na depression” ( I have depression). Hearing these things made me realise how lightly we use mental health language in everyday talk, without understanding the seriousness behind these terms.

Mental health diagnoses are not fashion tags. When we use psychological terms loosely:

We minimise the suffering of those who genuinely struggle.

We make mental health seem less serious and less credible.

We spread misunderstanding in society.

We discourage people from seeking proper help.

And over time, something I have really learned is that diagnosis is not easy at all. It’s not just a matter of matching a few behaviours and naming them. A diagnosis holds weight it can shape how a person sees themselves and how others treat them.

I remember the words I read once, and they stayed with me: “The easiest thing in the world is to give someone a label. Anyone can do that. The real challenge is knowing whether that label truly fits, whether it reflects the person’s real experience, and whether it will help rather than harm”.

Not every sad person is “depressed.”

Not every mood shift is “bipolar.”

And being extra neat does not mean someone has OCD.

Social media has increased awareness, but it has also made it easier to misuse terminology. These words are used so loosely that they lose their depth.

Mental health terms carry weight. They represent real pain, real challenges, real stories. Using them lightly may seem harmless, but it shapes how society views mental health and more importantly, how people view themselves.

Mental health deserves respect, sensitivity, and accuracy. Our words matter, because the people behind those words matter even more.

The post Why it matters appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

This dangerous trend that assumes shape of a phenomenon is born out of faith in extremist ideologies. When the Modi Government says, it has zero tolerance toward terrorism; it also means that it has no tolerance for radicalisation. Terrorism is the trunk of the tree rooted in radicalisation.

Kashmir has been a victim of the notion that it is home to radicalisation which has helped spread radicalisation all across. This sharpened Pakistan’s appetite to bleed India. There, however, is a striking contrast in the reality and the perception – Kashmir has witnessed and experienced countless incidents of terrorism in the past 36 years, and at the same time kept its faith alive in its Sufi culture and traditions.

The place is victim of misperceptions; the narrators have taken full advantage of it in defaming its people. It serves no one’s cause.

The troubling reality, however, is that some radical elements were always active in the region. They pushed hard the narrative of the distinct religious identity and political aspirations. They also lived in denial of the reality of accession of Jammu and Kashmir with India. These elements challenging the Accession were pushed to margins when there was a strong local leadership in Kashmir, driving home the point that the reality of the Accession cannot be changed, come what may.

There was a drift when this pro-India leadership was weakened as an outcome of conspiracies woven by those who had ears of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, the first prime minister of India. Nehru heeded the conspiracy-theorists and fell prey to the tales of conspiracy weavers unable to reconcile to the democratic set up and the leadership thereof.

All along, Kashmiri Muslims were fed the stories that Pakistan was their natural country, and India, by contrast, a Hindu nation that will not take care of Muslims and their religious freedom and political ambitions. Delhi countered this by citing the Accession. The fact was that the Accession had decided the fate of J&K once and for all, and therefore there can be no question on J&K’s status as an integral part of the Indian Union.

This fact was not consolidated by the emotional outreach. The finality of the accession needed mass public support for all the time. The integration was defended, citing decisive military victories of the Indian army in wars with Pakistan in 1947-1948, 1965 and 1971 and Kargil mini-war of 1999. The thrust was on the military might and outcome of wars in India’s favour. The political and emotional connect was not articulated and supported as it should have been.

Somehow, the military might got embedded into the narrative of Accession, and Kashmir as an integral part of the country. While there is no doubt that the Indian army, from the day one after the accession, defended the territorial integrity, it also left another notion that military was the sole defender of the idea of India in Kashmir. This point needs a reflection in a fair manner.

But somewhere down the line Kashmir’s civil society and political leadership’s role was undermined. Pakistan took advantage of it – radicalisation was used as a tool to widen the gap between Kashmir and the rest of the country.

Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha, without fail, mentions threat of radicalisation in the Valley. His thesis is that few radical elements, though small in number, are opposed to the positive changes in Kashmir of past five-six years, were working to derail the process and progress. This is true. But the question is why these few are succeeding, while the change is not able to prevent these inimical elements from what they were engaged in. Unless that question is addressed, the real causes may remain hidden and the solution may take longer to surface.

Some steps are urgently needed to neutralise radicalisation. The government, in its perception, believes that only hard approach against the terror holds key to decimate this menace. This is good but absent in this approach is mechanism to identify all the elements involved in radicalisation.

There is need to understand the whole dynamics of the radicalisation. It has to be seen in the context of what went wrong till date, and where origins of this extremist ideology lie. Second, there should be check on the rhetoric as the choice of harsh words can complicate situation and keep the machines of radicalisation moving.

First, people of Kashmir should be trusted to deal with this issue. It should be a self-assignment, not the one given by others. The inner need for dealing with this crisis should be encouraged and appreciated. Kashmiris can diagnose the matters more intelligently, and handle deftly. They don’t have to launch exercises and activate intelligence networks to identify the culprits. Their tools lie in their neighbourhood approach. It cannot be matched by anyone else.

Second, the political leadership of the Valley, elected and other, should not be pushed to wall. They have a right to speak for their people, and oppose the actions which they deem run against the spirit of treating J&K at par with other states and UTs in the country. The rule of law has its own norms which should be seen both fair in appearance and action.

Third, a disinformation campaign launched from across the border needs to be countered not in kind by the official channels only. It calls for conditions that enable and encourage the youth in the Valley to become broadcasters of the real situation and the idea of India and its acceptability in Kashmir, defying the traditional tag of Kashmiris being restive against the country that has been taking care of them for decades, while Pakistan conspired to wreck Kashmir’s ethos.

Fourth, the merits of the transformation of Kashmir in the post-abrogation of Article 370 should be left to locals to count and reflect on their bitter and cruel experiences of the past to the positives of today. Essentially, they need to articulate and amplify the secure and safe future of their children. And, for that it is necessary that the vision that was laid for Jammu and Kashmir at the time of declaration of Article 370 as null and void be honoured through dialogue and delivery mantra. Unfulfilled promises will trigger old time narratives which may fuel radicalism. Kashmir’s voices should be heard and responded within the country. That will help Kashmiris to fight the radicalisation to its core.

Fifth, the locals should be encouraged to organise events showcasing the positives that have visited them in the past five-six years. The official intervention and presence should be kept out of it, let these be events of Kashmiris, by Kashmiris and for Kashmiris.

The post Let Kashmiris handle it themselves appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

For a place whose economy leans heavily on tourism unclean air is an environmental concern. A Valley that attracts millions of tourists cannot look like New Delhi in winter. Yet that is exactly where current trends point – albeit, situation in Delhi is worse by far.

Satellite-derived data from 2023 shows PM2.5 levels in J&K consistently surpassing the National Ambient Air Quality Standards. The problem is not isolated; it is structural. Kashmir is deeply enmeshed in the Indo-Gangetic airshed, one of the world’s most polluted atmospheric belts. Emissions from industrial centres, power plants, crop-residue burning, and transport across northern India do not respect political boundaries. They flow across states, spilling into the Valley.

But blaming transboundary winds alone is not enough. J&K’s own weaknesses worsen the crisis. Air-quality monitoring remains sporadic, often absent. Real-time AQI data is rarely available on the Central Pollution Control Board’s website. Without reliable numbers, planning becomes guesswork.

CREA’s findings show a brief improvement after the monsoon, but this window is shrinking. Winters, which once brought only snowfall and biting cold, now arrive with a haze that hangs low over Srinagar, trapping pollutants and triggering respiratory illnesses. Doctors report more asthma cases, more bronchial infections, more vulnerable elderly patients.

For Kashmir, the stakes are uniquely high. Tourism thrives on perception, and perception is shaped by imagery: clean water, fresh air, unblemished horizons. A reputation for polluted winters can undo years of promotional campaigns. No visitor wants to inhale smog at 7,000 feet.

The response must therefore match the urgency. J&K needs year-round clean-air action plans, not seasonal firefighting. District-level strategies must be built on granular satellite data. The UT must strengthen its monitoring network, enforce emission norms, regulate construction dust, upgrade public transport, and coordinate with neighbouring states on airshed-level management.

The post Air quality concerns appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

Since last one year around four orders have been passed and it seems that in coming months the people who were involved in its vandalization will be taken to task. The bench of Justice Prakash Shrivastava (Chairperson NGT) & Dr A Senthil Vel (Expert Member) passed a direction for formation of a Joint Committee Comprising Member Secretary, J&K Pollution Control Committee, Regional Officer-Chandigarh region- Ministry of Environment , Forest and Climate Change (MoEF&CC) and a nominee from GB Pant Institute of Himalayan Environment Uttarakhand.

This committee will be supervising the committee already constituted by Deputy Commissioner Budgam on August 27^th 2025 to look into the damage caused to Sukhnag river through illegal riverbed mining in the last 3 to 4 years.

The order reads:

“The joint committee will ensure that committee constituted by Deputy Commissioner, Budgam by the order dated 27.08.2025 assesses the damage caused due to mining/short-term permit/illegal mining by taking into account all the relevant factors and consideration and also ascertain the persons responsible without showing any favour or bias towards any person. If need arises, joint committee formed by the Tribunal can send its representative to the spot when the verifications is done by the five members joint committee appointed by Deputy Commissioner Budgam “

Noted environmental lawyer Advocate Saurabh Sharma who has been pleading Sukhnag mining case in NGT for last one year pointed out agenda item no. 5 of minutes of meeting of District Level Single Window Committee dated 02.11.2022 and informed the tribunal that the Deputy Commissioner, Budgam himself had directed for issuance of clearance for extraction of boulders from Sukhnag. He further submitted that on account of this illegal mining, trout fish farmers have suffered from huge loss and damaged the river as well.

The Director Fisheries, J&K Govt and Member Secretary, Jammu & Kashmir Pollution Control Committee (JKPCC) on dated 07.01.2025 submitted the following facts before the National Green Tribunal after a team constituted by tribunal visited the site on December 26^th 2024. The official communication supported by an affidavit reads

“That Sh. Peerzada Rayees R/O Sail Beerwa is a progressive Trout Fish Farmer registered with the Department of Fisheries and the Source of water supply to his Trout Fish farm is Sukhnag River. As per records, during the intervening night of 23^rd and 24^th May 2024, he has suffered the loss of 2000 No. of Trout Fish stock due to diversion/disruption of water supply to his Trout Fish farm, caused by illegal mining in the river during the night hours. The fish stock lost was of saleable size ranging from 250 grams to 350 grams and the estimated biomass of the fish loss is approximately 600 Kgs which amounts to Rs. 3.00 lacs @ Rs. 500/-per kg. The documents substantiating the facts are enclosed herewith.”

In response to this the Counsel appearing for J&K Government in NGT submitted following facts before the principal bench of the tribunal:

“All mining activities in Sukhnag nallah stand stopped. That it is apt to mention herein that the District Mineral Officer, Budgam has also taken stringent action against illegal mining under law. From January 2024 to August 2025, 215 vehicles have been seized, penalties amounting to Rs. 29.36 lakhs realized, and 26 FIRS lodged against habitual offenders”

Pertinently on 27.08.2025 Deputy Commissioner, Budgam constituted a committee of five officers headed by the Sub Divisional Magistrate-SDM Beerwah to ascertain the extent of damage caused due to mining/short-term permit operations/illegal mining.

The National Green Tribunal with an aim of ensuring there is more transparency in getting the factual details about the destruction caused to Sukhnag due to riverbed mining in the last 3 to 4 years constituted a committee that would supervise the working of district level committee.

The NGT order further reads: “We are of the view that this committee should carry out the work under the supervision and guidance of an independent committee. Hence, we form a Joint Committee Comprising of Member Secretary, J&KPCC, RO, MoEF&CC, Chandigarh and a Nominee of the Expert by Director, GB Pant Institute. The Member Secretary, J&KPCC will coordinate in this joint committee. The joint committee will ensure that committee constituted by Deputy Commissioner, Budgam by the order dated 27.08.2025 assesses the damage caused due to mining/short-term permit/illegal mining by taking into account all the relevant factors and consideration and also ascertain the persons responsible without showing any favour or bias towards any person. If need arises, joint committee formed by the Tribunal can send its representative to the spot when the verifications is done by the five members joint committee appointed by Deputy Commissioner, Budgam. Let report be submitted by the joint committee within 10 weeks.”

The case is again listed for hearing on December 9^th 2025.

Conclusion

Looting and plunder in Sukhnag has already been proven after a Joint Committee constituted by NGT last year visited the site on 26.12.2024. Now the damage assessment is to be done and NGT has again passed a landmark order by constituting another committee consisting of senior officers from Govt of India. These officials from Ministry of Environment & GP Pant Institute of Himalayan studies Uttrakhand will now supervise the local committee headed by SDM Beerwah whose members include DFO Budgam, Executive Engineer FSC Narbal, DMO Budgam, local BDOs & AD Fishries Budgam. I am sure not only will the aggrieved fish farmer like Peerzada Rayees get justice but the villagers of Sail, Qumiroo, Kangripora, Kunigund and other areas will also get justice. Environmental Compensation (EC) will be realised from erring Govt officers, Departments and the company involved in illegal mining. It is unfortunate that 163 short term permits (STPs) have been issued under the garb of disposal permits in Sukhnag between 2022 to 2024. This is not only an environmental disaster but an economic disaster as well because not even 5 % of the compensation money went into the Govt treasury. This requires a high level inquiry as well.

Dr Raja Muzaffar Bhat is an Acumen Fellow and Chairman J&K RTI Movement

The post Justice for Sukhnang appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

Mir Javid Iqbal

mirjavid.iqbal@gmail.com

Marriage is one of the happiest and most important events in a person’s life. In Kashmir, weddings are part of our culture and tradition. But if we compare marriages of the past with those of today, we can clearly see a big difference. What was once a simple and joyful event has now become very costly and stressful. Expensive jewellery, unnecessary customs, and huge spending have turned marriage into a burden. This has also become one of the main reasons for late marriages in our society.

In earlier days, weddings in Kashmir were very simple. The main focus was always on the religious ceremony of Nikah, which was performed in a pure and straightforward way as taught by Islam. Guests were offered kahwa, kulcha, and some sweets. Even with this simple food, people were happy and enjoyed the day. There was no show-off, no pressure, and no waste. Everyone—both the host and the guests—felt satisfied and joyful.

With time, weddings started to change. New customs were added, and people began to spend money only to display their status. The Kashmiri wazwan, though an important part of our tradition, has now become too expensive and expansive. In most weddings, so much food is prepared that a big portion goes to waste. Families also spend huge amounts on decorations, music, and other unnecessary things.

This change has created a race among people. Every family wants to do more than the other. Instead of being happy occasions, weddings have slowly become a competition.

One of the biggest problems today is the demand for jewellery. Families feel pressure to give gold and other costly items to the bride. For many families, this is not affordable. Still, they spend money beyond their capacity, and in some cases, even take loans from banks. Sometimes even the groom has to borrow money to meet these demands. This unnecessary pressure not only creates financial stress but also delays marriages.

Because of these rising costs, many young men and women in Kashmir remain unmarried even after the age of 40. Families are unable to meet the heavy demands of society. This is creating frustration among the youth and leading to late marriages, which is becoming a serious problem in our society.

Islam teaches us that marriage should be simple. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) encouraged Muslims to make Nikah easy and affordable. The true purpose of marriage is to build love, peace, and a strong family, not to show off wealth. But today, we have moved far away from these teachings. Instead of following religion, we have created customs that make marriages difficult.

Who is Responsible?

The big question is: who will stop these wrong practices? When will people realize that they are destroying their own society? Our religious leaders, elders, and educated youth need to raise their voice. Parents must avoid showing off wealth, and young men should refuse unnecessary demands. Unless we all stand together, this problem will keep growing.

We must return to the simple ways of the past. Marriages should be celebrated with love, faith, and togetherness, not with money and show-off. Serving a simple meal, avoiding waste, and keeping jewellery demands minimal can make marriages affordable for everyone. By simplifying weddings, we can remove the financial burden from families, encourage early marriages, and bring peace back into society. This is the only way to protect our future generations.

Mir Javid Iqbal, Lecturer Botany

The post A grave social concern appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

Over 66,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israel over the last two years. Gaza itself has been reduced to rubble. So, the prospect of peace, even a tenuous one, is an opportunity that the world can’t afford to miss.

At the heart of this new opportunity is US President Donald Trump’s peace plan. It calls for a ceasefire, the release of hostages within 72 hours, a phased Israeli withdrawal, and the disarmament of Hamas. While Hamas has so far not addressed the disarmament clause or its exclusion from future governance, its agreement to begin negotiations and hand over power in Gaza to a technocratic authority represents a meaningful departure from its previous positions.

The plan is far from perfect and leaves many critical questions unanswered. But perfect cannot be the enemy of what is possible. For now, the pressing task is to halt the bloodshed and begin the long, complex process of rebuilding trust, and Gaza itself.

It is encouraging that key international players, including Egypt, Qatar, Turkey, and European leaders, have expressed support for this moment. The United Nations has urged all sides to “seize the opportunity.” It is now incumbent on Israel to pause its military operations, which are still ongoing and snuffing out Palestinian lives.

This is a rare diplomatic opening that the parties to the conflict can’t afford to miss, as that could plunge the region into deeper chaos. With Gaza’s population desperate for relief and international opinion increasingly critical of continued military action, the cost of inaction is unthinkable. For the sake of those still alive, and the memory of the tens of thousands who are not, this chance at peace must not be squandered.

The post A rare opening in Middle East appeared first on Greater Kashmir.

Living with a grown-up son and daughter-in-law, for example, is not always a harmonious dream. Differences in lifestyle, values, and expectations can create emotional fissures. A daughter-in-law’s indifference, a son’s passive silence, and a lack of gratitude for years of unacknowledged service can turn a familiar home into an alien space. It is in such quiet storms that solitude begins to appeal—not as an escape, but as a form of protection. Choosing to stay in one’s own flat, however small or worn out, becomes an act of self-preservation. It allows an aging woman the autonomy to set her own routine, maintain her spiritual practices, keep her memories intact, and simply breathe without judgment.

Zaitoon Begum had spent most of her life in a modest home in Noorbagh. Life had never given her much comfort but she had learned to live with dignity. She drew strength from her values, her memories, and the soil she had never left. Years ago, when Zaitoon was just 26 years old, her world changed overnight. Her husband died suddenly, leaving her alone to raise their two-year-old son, Samiullah, whom everyone lovingly called Sami. The grief was deep but the weight of responsibility was heavier. Zaitoon didn’t have the luxury to mourn for long. She picked herself up, wiped her tears, and stepped into the long quiet battle of survival. She took up tailoring and embroidery, working from a small corner of her room. Her fingers stitched through long nights while little Sami slept beside her on a thin mattress stuffed with worn cotton and hope. She saved every rupee, stretched every meal, and kept the house running. Even when the power went out and the streets were flooded with rain, she stitched on by the light of an oil lamp and whispered silent prayers for strength.

Over the years, she managed to raise Sami with great care. Although she had never been formally educated, she made sure her son went to school regularly. With whatever little she earned, she paid his fees, bought books from the second-hand market at Zaina Kadal, and sometimes went hungry so that he could have milk. By the time Sami completed his graduation and got a modest job in a private company, Zaitoon had aged far beyond her years. Her knees had grown stiff from long hours of sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her eyes had begun to strain from years of needlework. Sami got married to a girl named Nargis who was more familiar with Instagram than with managing household chores. Nargis was neither helpful nor interested in any work at home. While Zaitoon continued her routine of waking early, offering Fajr prayers, making tea, and tidying the house, Nargis often slept until late and wasted most of her time on her phone or watching videos.

When Zaitoon returned from the market, she would find the house in a mess. Dishes were unwashed, bedding was unmade, and Sami’s clothes were lying exactly where he had left them. Despite this, Zaitoon remained silent for weeks, thinking Nargis would adjust with time. But the situation only got worse. Sami worked for long hours and often returned home tired. He believed that everything was fine because Nargis smiled and spoke softly in his presence. Zaitoon didn’t want to create tension, so she kept her grievances to herself. Three months passed like this. One evening, while washing the dishes after dinner, Zaitoon noticed a moldy plate left in the young couple’s room. She hesitated but washed it anyway. The next day, another plate came out, smelling so bad that it reminded her of drainage water in summer. Still, she said nothing. But on the third evening, when Nargis handed her a plate crawling with insects and acted as if it was normal, Zaitoon finally spoke. Not with anger but with quiet firmness. She simply asked Nargis to wash her own dishes once in a while. That single sentence changed everything. The next day, Nargis stopped speaking to her. Sami was confused and asked his wife what had happened. With a few gentle words and wounded expressions, she had made it seem as though Zaitoon was unnecessarily interfering in their private matters. Sami exhausted from work and unaware of the daily realities at home, accepted his wife’s version without question. Within a week, they had packed their bags and moved into a rented one-bedroom flat nearby. Zaitoon stood silent, watching them leave, wondering if all the years of struggle had come to this. Months turned into years. Their communication became limited. Zaitoon rarely visited unless she was invited. Even then, she could sense the coldness in Nargis’s tone and the strain in Sami’s eyes. When their daughter Inaya was born, Zaitoon was called to visit only once. Although she brought clothes, toys, and sweets, she was never asked to stay.

Then came the turning point. After years of living in a rented flat, Sami managed to buy a small plot of land in Budgam. He had big dreams. A double-storey house. Enough space for everyone. A garden full of flowers and fruit trees. Zaitoon supported the idea quietly. She watched from a distance as the construction began. The first year, they built a fence. The next year, the foundation was laid. But then the work stopped due to lack of funds. During every visit to Zaitoon, their talk was only about the windows, wiring, plaster, and paint of the house. No one asked her how she was feeling. If her knees still ached. If she felt lonely. She listened quietly and nodded when needed, even though each visit left her more anxious. She began to suspect they wanted her to sell her ancestral house and use the money to finish their new house. One day, Sami told her mother that once the new house was ready, they could all live together. Zaitoon asked gently if that meant she should sell her ancestral house. Both Sami and Nargis lit up at the idea. But Zaitoon noticed a small change in Nargis’s face. A slight tightening of her jaw. A quick look of irritation. At that moment, she understood that living together would never be peaceful.

Still, she loved her son deeply. It hurt her to see him working so hard for so many years with little to show for it. She wanted him to succeed. To have a good home. To give her granddaughter a happy life. But she wondered, where would she live?

The ground floor of the half-built new house didn’t have the basics. No heating. No proper bathroom. Not even a working kitchen. It was not a place where an old woman with joint pain could stay. Above all there was no room for socialization at the new place.

She also knew that promises made when people are full of hope often fade when life becomes difficult. Marriage, money, and modern demands change people. Zaitoon understood that if she sold her flat, her son and daughter-in-law might be thankful for a while. But she would lose her freedom for ever. She would no longer have her own space. That night, she wrote a letter to Sami. She didn’t complain or blame anyone. She praised his hard work. She said how proud she was of him. She told him she believed his dream house would be complete one day. But she also wrote that she would stay in her own ancestral house. Not because she didn’t care, but because life had taught her one thing. Sometimes, keeping your own space is necessary, even if others don’t understand.

The next day, she mailed the letter. Sami never replied. But Zaitoon felt a strange peace in her heart. She had chosen solitude over humiliation. Clarity over emotional pressure. Dignity over uncertain comfort.

Note: Names in the article may not be real.

Any coincidence is incidental not intentional.

Dr Showkat Rashid Wani, Senior Coordinator, Centre for Distance & Online Education, University of Kashmir

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In this impressive collection of short stories, Banu Mushtaq speaks in a voice that is both sharp and emotionally splendid. With Deepa Bhasthi’s pitch-perfect translation from Kannada, the text doesn’t just cross languages; it transcends borders of class, gender and silence.

To put it precisely, if stories are seeds, Heart Lamp is an orchard where each fruit is both sour and sweet, spangled and scarred. Reading it is like stumbling into a mirror maze. Every corner reflects womanhood refracted through the prism of patriarchy, piety, poverty, poetry—and power. In her collection of short stories, Banu doesn’t just write; she excavates.

This is not just a book. This is a political séance disguised as literary art, an archive of the invisible bruises society paints over with processed respectability. It sings and seethes. No wonder it won the Booker. It doesn’t belong to any single geography. It belongs to every woman who has been told her pain is private, her anger unholy, her intelligence dangerous.

Banu’s pen is dipped in the simmering broth of kitchen whispers, prayer mat confessions and the daily labor of invisibility. Take “Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal”: it’s not just a story but a dismantling of romanticism surrounding domesticity. The husband’s performative affection, the decay of post-partum glamour, the transactional tenderness of marriage—all deconstructed with clinical poetry. The tale begins in jasmine-scented nostalgia and ends with graveyard stone. Love here doesn’t bloom; it withers eloquently.

And then there is a story “The Arabic Teacher and Gobi Manchurian”. A title that itself is a cultural collision. The humor is gentle but explosive, the satire sly but seismic. Banu’s stories often carry the surreal aftertaste of real life: they are simple, until they aren’t. They lull you into comfort before dragging the rug away under your ideology.

Banu’s characters are not just women—they are unapologetic witnesses, navigating toxic tradition, unequal love and suffocating domesticities with startling clarity. Whether it’s the poetic defiance of Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal, the shrill satire of Be a Woman Once, Oh Lord!, or the bittersweet courage in A Taste of Heaven, each story dismantles accepted norms with disarming intimacy. There is no melodrama here, only truths too often buried beneath politeness. Truths that are viciously ugly and nauseating but presented as strength.

Characters like Zeenat, Asifa and Shaista don’t evolve to become “strong women”; they already are. It’s the reader’s gaze that needs recalibration. These women breathe, birth, break, and rebuild without ever asking permission. They are devout and defiant, domestic and dissident, often in the same breath. And in a world hungry for “representation,” Heart Lamp doesn’t represent women; it reclaims them.

Bhasthi’s translation is vital here. It doesn’t carry these stories from Kannada to English; it actually reincarnates them, soul intact, spirit alight. It retains the scorch marks of the original while letting the English respire. You can hear the pulse of Kannada in the English rhythm, as though two languages are having chai and gossiping behind your back. You are not reading it. You are eavesdropping on a revolution.

And the title story, “Heart Lamp”? It doesn’t glow. It burns. It’s the kind of metaphor that once lit, refuses to douse. In a literary age obsessed with trauma as spectacle, Banu offers no spectacle—only truth, raw and unforgiving.

If you are looking for closure, you won’t find it here. These stories don’t end; they echo. They haunt you while you are washing cups, mopping floors, dusting shelves. They whisper in the gaps between what was said and what should have been screamed.

Heart Lamp is not for the faint-hearted or the fast readers. It demands your time, your discomfort, your complicity. It is, quite possibly, the most important Indian book in translation since Tamas. It does not seek to please; it dares to offend silence. And in doing so, it smolders— brashly, irrevocably, like a lamp lit inside the heart of the world.

Winning the 2025 Booker Prize, Heart Lamp is more than a literary triumph. It’s a political act, a cultural reckoning and an artistic awakening. With stories grounded deeply in local soil yet resonating globally, Banu Mushtaq proves that feminist resistance doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispers—then burns. In her prize acceptance speech, Banu asserted, “This book was born from the belief that no story is ever ‘small’—that in the tapestry of human experience, every thread holds the weight of the whole. In a world that often tries to divide us, literature remains one of the last sacred spaces where we can live inside each other’s minds, if only for a few pages”.

This is not a book to read. It is a book to sit with. Like you would with a truth you can no longer ignore!

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Just days earlier, on May 15, Amit Shah had announced the death of 31 more Maoists in another major operation in the Karreguttalu Hills on the Chhattisgarh-Telangana border. That 21-day campaign involved over 24,000 security personnel and targeted strongholds of key Maoist units like the PLGA Battalion 1 and the Dandakaranya Special Zonal Committee.

The last few operations with precision, planning, and scale with minimal casualties among security forces, signal a turning point. Areas once under Maoist control are now back under control, and the government aims to fully eliminate Naxalism by March 31, 2026, not just through security measures, but also through development and governance.

More than a decade ago, India’s then-Prime Minister, Manmohan Singh, warned that Left-Wing Extremism (LWE) was the single biggest internal security challenge the country faced. That statement, repeated with urgency, captured the grim reality of a violent insurgency that had claimed thousands of lives, primarily in the mineral-rich but underdeveloped “Red Corridor” stretching from Chhattisgarh to Jharkhand and parts of Maharashtra, Odisha, and Andhra Pradesh. Now, after a decade of sustained counterinsurgency operations, infrastructure development, and civic outreach, Home Minister Amit Shah appears poised to declare a historic milestone: a Naxal-free Bharat by March 31, 2026.

What was once a “free zone” completely controlled by Naxals is now fully under government control. The Indian tri-colour now flies on hills that used to be Maoist strongholds, marked by red flags. One of the most symbolic areas reclaimed is Abujhmad in Chhattisgarh’s Narayanpur district. Known for its dense forests and tough terrain, it was once seen as nearly impossible to access and had served as a base for Maoist leaders, hideout, and training camps. Today, the region is undergoing major change. Roads are being built, mobile towers installed, and government offices set up. What was once outside the reach of the state is now being brought into the fold through administration and development.

Since 2014, the Modi government has followed a two-pronged strategy: strong security operations and focused development efforts. This combined approach has shown results. The number of Naxal-affected districts has dropped from 126 in 2014 to just 38 in 2024. By 2025, only a dozen districts remain affected, and just six are considered high-priority areas. Violence has dropped. According to Home Ministry data, incidents of Naxal violence decreased by 53 percent and deaths by 70 percent compared to the UPA-era decade. More critically, the insurgency’s operational depth has been curtailed. Over the last five years, more than 300 Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) have been set up in previously ungoverned forest regions, equipped with helipads, night-landing capabilities, and secure communications. The movement space for insurgents is shrinking, physically and ideologically. The Maoists, too, appear to sense the tide turning. In 2024 alone, more than 880 insurgents surrendered, and the trends continues in 2025, many lured by the government’s rehabilitation schemes that promise financial support, employment, and reintegration into society. Some of the former Maoist are now working with the District Reserve Guard helping troops and the administration, reflecting the power of soft-touch strategy blended with firm resolve.

Development as Deterrence

If security operations have broken the insurgency’s spine, it is development that is eroding its soul. Naxalism, after all, was born in the vacuum of governance and the marginalisation of tribal communities. The promise of land rights, better education, healthcare, and connectivity remained elusive in vast stretches of central India, giving radicals fertile ground for recruitment and propaganda. Now, that narrative is changing. In Chhattisgarh’s Narayanpur district, once a complete no-go zone in the Abujhmad region, we find rapid road construction, electrification, mobile towers, and panchayat offices are gradually turning the tide. A National Highway is under construction that will connect remote villages to towns. Police camps have brought not only security, but also medical facilities, bringing in ambulances, telecommunication towers, bringing in TV and telephone, Aadhaar services, and aspirations. In Bastar alone, 9,000 houses have been built under the Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana. Eklavya Model Residential Schools are operational in tribal belts, and under the Jal Jeevan Mission, villages are getting piped drinking water for the first time. Skill development centres and ITIs are offering a ladder out of generational poverty. These are not merely welfare schemes; they are political and psychological victories, making state presence a daily and benign reality and helping the alienated population to return to mainstream politics.

Cracking the Maoist Ecosystem

The government’s counter-Naxal strategy has also smartly targeted the larger ecosystem that sustains the insurgency, its finances, urban sympathisers, and ideological enablers. The government agencies have choked the financial arteries of Naxal operations, while security and intelligence agencies have mounted legal and surveillance offensives against what are often termed “urban Naxals.” The Naxal movement has not only been isolated in the jungles and remote areas, but also in the cities, cutting off its access to financial, ideological, and material support. At least 15 Politburo and Central Committee members have been neutralised since 2014, creating disarray in the chain of command.

A Caution

Despite major gains, a note of caution is need of the hour. While operations like Karreguttalu represent a shift in momentum, remnants of the insurgency are still embedded in districts like Sukma, Gadchiroli, and West Singhbhum. These are regions with difficult terrain, persistent poverty, and a long history of state neglect. Development efforts must not be seen as adjuncts to military operations but as an independent moral right and constitutional obligation. Human rights must be upheld, and tribal voices must be heard not just as beneficiaries of state largesse but as stakeholders where they feel they are being heard and respected as citizens of the country. The surrender policies must be implemented with integrity and follow-through, lest they breed disillusionment among those willing to change. Civil society, in these regions, must be engaged, not excluded, in the national reconciliation effort. In addition, those who have changed the track should be provided both physical and social security. We need to recognise that security and welfare are not binaries but two wings of state legitimacy. The government has set itself a firm deadline: March 31, 2026. This is not merely a date on the calendar but a political commitment to the idea that India can overcome one of its longest-running insurgencies through a calibrated mix of force, welfare, respect and justice. This is chance as suggested by home minister, to end a decades-old insurgency not with the arrogance of victory but with the humility of learning. The fight against Naxalism was never just a military campaign, it was a challenge to the idea breeding amongst the neglected and poor. As the red shadows lifts, the tricolour rises not just on hills but in hearts once lost to fear, neglect, and violence.

Author is National Editor,

Greater Kashmir

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