Announcing this, senior High Court advocate Anand Yagnik, who heads the Gujarat chapter of the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL), said that a committee has already been formed to examine the pros and cons of SIR. “While the SIR exercise began in Gujarat on November 4 and is scheduled to continue for a month, we will file a supporting petition in the case against SIR in the Gujarat High Court or the Supreme Court after observing how it proceeds in the state,” he said.

Yagnik’s announcement followed senior advocate Shahrukh Alam—who is arguing the SIR case in the Supreme Court—urging Gujarat’s civil society to also file a petition. She said there was an urgent need to create public awareness and build pressure against SIR, especially in the apex court, and that this could only be achieved if petitions were filed from different states.

Supporting the view of Gujarat activists that SIR is an exercise aimed at excluding marginalized sections from the electoral rolls, Alam said that the SIR, which began ahead of the Bihar elections despite a revision having already taken place in January, should be seen against the backdrop of an overall attack on democracy, freedom of speech, and the Constitution itself. However, she regretted that the political class remains “largely indifferent” to what is happening.

According to Alam, “We must remember that the space for free speech is shrinking—universities are cancelling lectures and refusing discussions. The state is seeking to decide everything: what to wear, what to eat, whom to marry. Exercises like the UCC, NRC, and actions around Waqf are all about the state deciding your identity. Today, state endorsement has become essential for everything. We are living as if in an open jail.”

Continuing, Alam said that in the same vein, it is now the state that seeks to decide whether one is a voter or not. “Civil society must take up the larger issues around SIR. Voting is based on the universal adult franchise, and it has always been the state’s job to ensure that no eligible citizen is left out. But now, the burden is being shifted—citizens are being asked to prove they are voters by submitting citizenship documents. The state is abdicating its responsibility,” she said.

Alam questioned why the ECI spent a huge amount of public money to revise the electoral rolls in Bihar in January, only to begin another “intensive revision” within six months, allegedly to “purify” the rolls. “Who is accountable for this waste of public funds? The ECI has not been questioned on this,” she emphasized.

On the legal front, Alam noted that while the ECI has the right to create electoral rolls, problems arise when it makes it mandatory for individuals to prove citizenship to qualify as voters. The ECI claims it will verify this on the basis of 11 documents, excluding Aadhaar and ration cards. “The ECI cannot act arbitrarily,” Alam asserted. “The Representation of the People Act merely requests citizens to assist in creating complete electoral lists. For 70 years, teachers went door-to-door recording names without asking for documents. Now, the onus has been reversed—each resident must prove citizenship.”

Countering the ECI’s initial claim that SIR aimed to remove “infiltrators,” Alam said, “Only three infiltrators were found.” When challenged, the ECI changed its justification, saying it was to “remove dead people” from the rolls. “But even that proved flawed—instances of deceased individuals remaining on the lists continued. The Supreme Court has yet to hear the case, even though Aadhaar has now been allowed,” she added.

Addressing the meeting, Sarfarazuddin of PUCL Bihar, who played a key role in opposing the ECI, called the exercise “dangerous” and “without legal basis.” He said it began in Bihar on June 24, requiring individuals to verify that they were on the 2003 electoral list to remain eligible voters. “No rationale was given. The timing was deliberate—monsoon floods begin after June-end. Would people save their lives or their documents in such a situation?” he asked.

He explained that block-level officers (BLOs) distributed enumeration forms requiring verification from 2003. In the absence of that, 11 alternative documents were allowed—but Aadhaar and ration cards were excluded, while passports, school-leaving certificates, birth certificates, and residence proofs were accepted.

“This was designed to exclude marginalized communities,” he said. “The Manjhi community, for instance, has only about 10 percent literacy. How can they be expected to comply? Many people had to bribe officials to get documents, leading to rampant corruption.”

In an instance of how marginalized sections are being excluded, Sarfarazuddin said that an 86-year-old poor woman’s name was missing from the draft voter list, following which her widow pension was also stopped. “Women are likely to suffer the most because of SIR,” he warned. “The ECI requires parents’ proof as one of the 11 documents. How do poor married women cope with this?”

He recounted an incident in a Muslim locality where residents protested after their duly completed forms were rejected. “A schoolteacher acting as BLO called her superior and said, ‘You told us not to accept Muslims’ forms. People are protesting—what do I do?’ Embarrassed, the officer told her to accept all the forms,” he said.

Similar protests were reported elsewhere. Initially, 64 lakh voters were found excluded in the revised draft. Following protests and legal interventions in the Supreme Court, many were restored, but the case remains pending. “This will be a long, drawn-out battle,” said Sarfarazuddin. “The ECI knows it has erred, but it has made it a prestige issue.”

Mujahid Nafees, who heads the Minority Coordination Committee and is PUCL Gujarat’s general secretary, pointed out that thousands of houses of fisherfolk on Bet Dwarka were demolished, though residents had Aadhaar cards with those addresses. “No one knows what will happen to their voting rights now,” he said.

Another Gujarat activist, Pankti Jog of the Association for Democratic Reforms, questioned how the ECI plans to “purify” electoral rolls amid Gujarat’s large-scale internal migration. Economist Hemant Shah asked whether the ECI’s aim was to prepare a voters’ list or to assess citizenship.

Courtesy: Counter View

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Frankly—call it my inertia or whatever—I am not very familiar with Sainath’s recent writings, though from time to time I do read some of the very in-depth reports focusing on rural India on the excellent site he has been running for about a decade, People’s Archive of Rural India (PARI), which is, for all practical purposes, a virtual database for learning or understanding anything about how people live and work in rural India.

Not that I wasn’t familiar with Sainath earlier. As part of a Times of India project, I remember reading his in-depth reports in the paper in the 1990s, after I joined in Ahmedabad in 1993. However, at that time, from what I can remember, he concentrated more on doing stories on rural India. The latest lecture, which he gave in Ahmedabad on September 6, 2025, for the first time familiarised me with his worldview on the increasing concentration of wealth in India—especially in the media—and how it is adversely impacting Indian democracy.

According to Sainath, this concentration of wealth began soon after Independence, when the Nehru government, in its bid to give a helping hand, gave away land to top media houses for peanuts at prime spots—for instance, in Nariman Point in Bombay (now Mumbai) and Bahadurshah Zafar Marg in Delhi. This, he said, turned them into real estate barons: building multi-storey buildings on these prime plots, the media houses rented out all other floors—except for one, kept for publishing the newspaper—helping them amass huge wealth.

Today, said Sainath, these media houses are also powerful real estate developers. He quoted an interview Vineet Jain, one of the owners of the Times of India group, gave to the New Yorker. Jain, according to him, said, “We are not in the newspaper business; we are in the advertising business.”

I immediately wondered if this was a sharp change from the view held in the mid-1990s, when, while addressing a few of us “seniors” of the Times of India, Vineet Jain’s elder brother, Samir Jain, had said we should remember the paper was in the business of news, emphasising that the Times of India was a family business and had no social agenda. Then he turned to the whiteboard behind him and wrote “liberal social agenda”, crossing it out. He turned to me to ask if I agreed, and out of curiosity, I asked him, “Sir, what about a liberal political agenda?” Visibly embarrassed, he quietly said, “That of course is there…”
Stating how media has changed over time with the rise of television and digital media, Sainath said the corporate hold over media has further solidified, with top tycoon Mukesh Ambani controlling nearly 40 percent of all media in India today, buying up stakes in one outlet after another. Also referring in passing to Gautam Adani’s takeover of NDTV, he pointed out that politicians too are now deeply involved in the media business—owning several TV channels across India, especially in the South.

Stating how this has adversely impacted media coverage, Sainath said, there are several reporters covering Bollywood and business, but was for poverty and rural India, which makes up to nearly two thirds of India, there is no reporter.

Giving figures worth trillions of rupees related to corporate ownership of Indian media, Sainath then discussed how, with the rise of digital media, there has been further concentration of wealth. According to him, four major corporate houses across the globe now control the strings of digital media—they have access to all the data uploaded to digital platforms. With the Government of India seeking to further control digital media by proposing new laws, an attack on press freedom seems imminent, he added.

Giving examples, Sainath said there was an attempt during the Covid period to control media after Reporters Without Borders ranked India 161st out of 180 countries in the World Press Freedom Index. A committee was formed, consisting mainly of government bureaucrats, to counter the index results. Only two journalists—including himself—were included. He said he joined on the condition that media freedom would be ensured. However, after finding his interventions too strong, the committee, which was headed by the Cabinet Secretary, eventually “disappeared”.

Now, said Sainath, there is a move to introduce a law that would impose a huge income tax on non-profit media houses. Pointing out that non-profit organisations like PARI, which he owns, and The Wire, are likely to suffer the most as a result of this move, he said the intention is to squeeze independent media outfits that have emerged over the last decade. This would take away ₹1 crore out of the approximately ₹2.5 crore that PARI raises annually to run its digital operations. He called upon the largely receptive audience—gathered at the invitation of top veteran Gujarat economist Prof. Indira Hirway—to financially support such independent media.

Later, talking informally, I asked Sainath a pointed question: would PARI, which is a digital media platform, have been possible 10 or 15 years ago, when internet penetration was low? He replied that he had started thinking of the PARI project 15 years ago. However, he admitted it was impossible for him to go into print or TV media, as it was too costly—one reason why he opted for the digital route.

I further asked him whether it was possible for ordinary journalists or people aspiring to share news to do so 15 years ago, as is now possible through blogging platforms and social media. To this, he replied that reaching out to readers is a huge issue. Algorithms control what gets propagated. If you’re willing to pay for services on platforms like X, for instance, you have a chance of reaching a wider audience—otherwise not.

Courtesy: CounterView

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Following my blog “AAP’s rising star in Gujarat or guardian of patriarchy? The Gopal Italia dilemma”, I received an interesting comment from social activist Sudhir Kariyar, who works among tribal workers in Gujarat. The blog discusses how Italia, who won a by-election, wrote a letter to the Gujarat chief minister claiming that, on getting involved in love affair, young girls are being “lured” and “trapped” by wedding mafias across the state, urging the authorities to take legal action against this.

In his message, Kariyar said that the well-known Gujarati writer Pannalal Patel’s novel, written in 1931, “about the inter-caste love story between Patel and Barber caste individuals,” should be sent to Gopal Italia. He referred to a social media post by Dalit rights leader Raju Solanki, whom I have known for some time, which featured the cover of Patel’s novel Malela Jeev (Meeting Souls).

I looked up Raju Solanki’s timeline and found that he not only shared the novel’s cover but also posted a write-up on it. In his powerful piece—without once mentioning Italia by name—Solanki dismantles the AAP rising star’s contention that love marriages are an organized racket. Solanki titled his post Balela Jeev (Burnt Lives), a pun on Malela, symbolically referring to Italia.

Let me quote Solanki. He calls Malela Jeev a remarkable novel, recommending it to anyone who has not read it. The novel, he says, tells the “love story of Kanji, from the Patel caste, and Jeevi, from the Valand caste. Because of caste restrictions, they cannot marry. On the advice of his friend, Kanji convinces Jeevi to marry Dhulo, an ugly man from her village, so that she can remain close to him.”

Jeevi agrees and marries Dhulo. “A suspicious and violent man, Dhulo beats Jeevi daily. Kanji moves to the city for work, while Jeevi, weary of her life in the village, one day tries to commit suicide by mixing poison into bread. By mistake, Dhulo eats it and dies. Widowed Jeevi becomes the subject of public slander and eventually loses her sanity. Kanji returns from the city and takes her away with him. The story ends there.”

Providing historical context for when Pannalal Patel wrote the novel (1941), Solanki says, “it was still 14 years before the system of ganot (forced agricultural labor) would be abolished. The Patels were ganotiya (bonded labourers) of the landlords. In the Sarth Gujarati Dictionary, Kanbi was defined as slave and Valand as useless person. Thus, at that time, both Patels and Valands were considered Shudra castes of equal status, yet marriage between them was unthinkable. It still is today.”

Solanki quotes Kanhaiyalal Maneklal Munshi, a well-known Gujarati litterateur, as telling the Gujarati Sahitya Parishad in 1934 that among Gujaratis “men outnumber women,” pointing out that in the Bombay region, which included Gujarat, for every 1,000 men there were 900 women; in India as a whole, there were 950; but as for the Patel community, “there were only 772 women for every 1,000 men.”

Adds Solanki, “Because of this shortage of women, Patels became a gender-challenged caste. Patel youths married tribal girls, and even fairs were held to bring brides from the Kurmi caste of far-off Bihar.” Yet, alluding to Italia’s opposition to love marriages, he adds, “When it comes to their own daughters marrying for love, they oppose it.”

He wonders, “In 1941, Pannalal Patel wrote a great novel on the theme of love marriage. Who today will write about the burnt lives who oppose love marriages?”

Praising Malela Jeev in an online lifestyle journal, one Snehal Parmar writes, as a “huge fan” of romantic Gujarati novels, that in Malela Jeev Pannalal Patel “illustrates the power of true love: it always lasts, always wins, and always has won. In contrast, false love quickly fades and cannot stand up to the power of true love.” Parmar adds, “The writer expresses the difficulty of finding and sustaining true love in today’s age.”

Indeed, Pannalal Nanalal Patel (1912–1989) is renowned for his seminal novels Malela Jeev (1941) and Manvini Bhavai (1947), having written over 61 novels and 26 short story collections. He is celebrated for using the local dialect and idioms of the Sabarkantha region, making his characters and settings feel vividly authentic.

Keen observers note that the timeless tragedy of Pannalal Patel’s Malela Jeev resonates with chilling relevance in today’s Gujarat, particularly in light of recent remarks by AAP MLA Gopal Italia concerning inter-caste love marriages. Italia’s controversial statements, questioning the social harmony of such unions and suggesting they sow discord within communities, starkly contradict the core message woven into Patel’s classic.

It is pointed out that Italia’s assertion that inter-caste love marriages lead to “social and community tensions” attempts to shift blame from the entrenched caste system and its proponents to the individuals daring to defy it. Malela Jeev, by contrast, powerfully refutes this notion by demonstrating that the tension does not arise from love itself, but from the judgmental, exclusionary responses of the community.

Courtesy: Counterview

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Maninagar, I have been told, was Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s initial political karmabhoomi during his formative years. While covering Sachivalaya for the Times of India (1997-2012), a senior bureaucrat told me that during the Emergency days (1975–77), Modi would hide in the house of an RSS pracharak to avoid arrest. This babu, who retired a few years ago and lived in Maninagar, told me he personally knew this RSS pracharak, “a simple soul, always ready to help.”

A known Hindutva bastion, Modi represented the Maninagar constituency in the state legislative assembly thrice — 2002, 2007, and 2012. Expectedly, following the stabbing incident, in which the accused happens to be a Muslim and the victim a Hindu, there was strong protest led by the saffron brigade over the alleged failure of the administration, led by a Christian principal, to keep outlaws in the school under control.

Following the ghastly incident, I happened to interact with the principal of another school. Fear was writ large on his face: what if such an incident happened in his school? Wouldn’t he be beaten up like the Seventh Day School principal was? What if a similar crowd entered his school premises? He had no clue how to control it, nor any idea how to deal with what he called “increasing incidents of violence among schoolchildren, which we are witnessing in front of our own eyes.”

Even as I was speaking with this principal, I came to know that the Ahmedabad district education office (DEO) had called a meeting of school principals where discussions were held on how to prevent incidents like the one in the Maninagar school. I asked this principal what had happened in the meeting. While I wasn’t apprised of the details, he told me he had taken “a few precautionary measures.”

And what were these? “We have started checking the school bags of all the children studying in secondary classes, and we confiscated whatever sharp objects were found,” the principal revealed, adding, “While scissors were found in many children’s bags and we took them all, telling them they were in our lock and key and would be returned when they had crafts period, three children had knives in their bags.”

The principal claimed — and this struck me like a bolt from the blue — “All three were Muslims. One of them carried a rather long knife, which the child told me was used for slaughtering goats. We called the child’s father, whose immediate reaction was that his son was being targeted because he was a Muslim. I told him, we don’t discriminate on religious lines; otherwise, we wouldn’t be admitting Muslims in our school.”

The principal, who headed a private school, further claimed that he had “observed” violent incidents happening “mostly among students admitted under the 25 percent quota for socially and economically backward children under the Right to Education Act. They study for free, for which the government compensates us. We cannot fail them till they reach the eighth standard. They have to be compulsorily promoted. They can’t be rusticated either. So, they become careless. In my school, 50 percent of these children are Muslim.”

A teacher with whom I later interacted told me that in his school — one of the better ones providing “quality” education — following the school authorities’ directions, “we search the children’s bags of one classroom every day. It’s such a headache. Many children — especially those admitted under RTE — are found to keep some sharp object in their bags. Some remove the screw from the pencil sharpener and keep the blades in their bags. Do we teach children or do this security check?”

I mentioned all this to someone close to me. This person, who did not want to be named, said that while he couldn’t comment on the Seventh Day School incident per se, in the late 1990s and 2000s, when he studied at a top Ahmedabad school, he personally witnessed how Muslim children were targeted. “One of the very decent boys, a brilliant one, would be called ‘Oy Miya,’ used as an insult; he was rarely addressed by name. He wouldn’t react, but surely this is the type of atmosphere that prevails in many schools. One must understand the psychology of such children.”

I was reminded of what a well-known cultural personality told me when we met around the time I joined the Times of India in 1993 as part of my acquaintance drive. He told me about a top school, preferred by Gujarati parents for their children. Telling me his daughter studied there, he said, “A day ahead of the 15th August function, the teacher told the children they must compulsorily attend flag hoisting, underlining, ‘those who don’t attend are Miyabhai.’ My daughter asked what is this Miyabhai… I was at a loss to tell her the teacher was spreading communal hatred through such a statement.”

Courtesy: CounterView

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In a passionate defense of Urdu’s rich heritage and its rightful place as a language of India’s heart, in an article shared on his Facebook wall, former Supreme Court Justice Markandey Katju delves into its origins, evolution, and cultural significance, describing it as a uniquely Indian language with a dual character—both aristocratic and rooted in the common man’s experience. Titled “What is Urdu,” the piece challenges the notion that Urdu is a foreign language, asserting its indigenous roots and its deep connection to the Indian populace.

Urging its revival and recognition as a unifying cultural force, Justice Katju explains that Urdu emerged from the superimposition of Persian vocabulary and features onto a Hindustani (Khariboli) foundation, making it a hybrid language, once called Rekhta. “Urdu is a language created by the combination of two languages, Persian and Hindustani,” he writes, emphasizing that its verbs, derived from Hindustani, classify it as a special kind of Hindustani rather than Persian. “The fact that it is a special kind of Hindustani shows that it is a desi or indigenous language,” Katju asserts, countering claims that Urdu is foreign.

Tracing the historical context, Katju notes that Hindustani, the foundation of Urdu, developed as the common language of urban markets in North India, facilitating trade across diverse regions. “A trader traveling from Bihar or Madhya Pradesh could easily sell his goods in a city in Uttar Pradesh or Rajasthan or Punjab because there was a common language, Hindustani,” he explains. Urdu, built on this base, incorporated Persian sophistication due to the latter’s status as the court language during the Mughal era, particularly from Emperor Akbar’s time.

Katju highlights the transformation during the decline of the Mughal Empire after 1707, when the later Mughals, reduced to nominal rulers, adopted Urdu as the court language. “Urdu is thus the language of aristocrats who had become pauperized, but who retained their dignity, pride and respect,” he writes, citing the example of poet Ghalib, who, despite financial struggles, maintained his aristocratic pride. Katju quotes Urdu poet Josh to encapsulate this dignity: “Hashr mein bhi khusrawana shaan se jaayenge hum / Aur agar purshish na hogi, to palat aayenge hum” (Even on judgment day I will go in style / And if not given respect, will turn back).

The article underscores Urdu’s dual nature: “It is both an aristocratic language as well as the commoner’s language.” While its content reflects the struggles and aspirations of the common man, its polished, sophisticated style draws from Persian influences, making it a powerful medium for expressing human emotions. Katju praises Urdu poetry’s elegance, stating, “In no language does the voice of the human heart emerge with such power and elegance (andaz-e-bayan) as it does in Urdu.”

However, Katju laments the damage inflicted on Urdu post-1947 Partition, when it was branded as a “foreign” or “Muslim” language in India. He criticizes the systematic replacement of commonly used Persian words with obscure Sanskrit ones, such as replacing zila (district) with janapad. “This policy of hatefully removing Persian words… resulted in almost genocide for Urdu in India,” he writes. Despite this, he remains optimistic, pointing to the enduring popularity of Urdu in mushairas, Hindi film songs, and the sale of Urdu poetry books at railway bookstalls as evidence of its vitality.

To revive Urdu, Katju suggests making it compulsory in schools for five years, alongside Sanskrit, to connect it to livelihoods and ensure its cultural preservation. He also advocates for publishing Urdu works in both Persian and Devanagari scripts to make them accessible to a wider audience. Quoting Urdu critic Shamshur Rahmaan Farooqui, who called Urdu a “dead and buried” language, Katju disagrees, asserting, “The language which speaks the voice of the heart can never be stamped out as long as people have hearts.”

Katju concludes by urging Urdu and Hindi writers to use simpler language to address contemporary issues like poverty and unemployment, making literature a tool for the masses. He celebrates Urdu poetry’s ability to capture historical transitions, citing Firaq’s couplet: “Har zarre par ek kaifiyat-e-neemshabi hai / Ai saaqi-e-dauran yeh gunahon ki ghadi hai,” which he interprets as a profound depiction of India’s ongoing transition from feudalism to modernity, marked by societal upheaval and clashing values.

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The article also notes the RSS’s controversial history, including its association with communal violence—such as the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi by a former RSS member and the 1990s demolition of a 16th-century mosque in Ayodhya, which sparked significant backlash.

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While writing my previous blog on how and why Narendra Modi went out of his way to promote English when he was Gujarat chief minister — despite opposition from people in the Sangh Parivar — I came across an interesting write-up by Aakar Patel, a well-known name among journalists and civil society circles.

Titled “How Gujarat ignores the English language”, with a subheading “Exploring clichés about Gujarat’s English and education system”, the piece was published in the online edition of the Hindustan Times’ business daily, Mint. It is now 12 years old — one reason why I decided to review what Aakar had written.

While quickly going through the article, I found Aakar — who served as the head of Amnesty International India between 2015 and 2019, and currently chairs its board — was grossly mistaken in stating that the Congress in Gujarat “has supported introduction of English earlier but the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) reject this.”

Traditional Indian spices

As my two previous pieces on this site suggest (click here and here), poor English in Gujarat is actually a Congress legacy — one that sections of the Sangh Parivar wanted to continue. Modi, however, made efforts to reverse this by crafting policies and programmes supporting the teaching of the language.

That said, much of what Aakar wrote in his article — published online in Mint on October 18, 2013 — still holds true. Written after attending a function at a school in Surat where he had studied 25 years earlier, Aakar states he “was struck” to find school teachers speaking “an embarrassingly-broken English, sprinkled with errors and without felicity.”

I don’t know how much teachers’ knowledge of English has changed since then, but Aakar’s quotation from the Gujarat education department website suggests that Modi’s efforts to promote English seem to have failed — at least at the official level. The web address quoted by Aakar may have changed, but the gibberish English written on it remains stuck in time.

Indeed, the two long quotes from the website that Aakar reproduced in 2013 remain unchanged. They appear verbatim today as they did then — serving, as he called them, “an evidence on display” of the poverty of English in a department meant to support Modi’s language promotion policies through such grand programmes as SCOPE, or Society for Creation of Opportunities through Proficiency in English.

Let me now reproduce the two long quotes from the Gujarat State Education Department website which Aakar copied in 2013 to “explain” how the department puts together its textbooks — and which remain as incoherent today as they were back then.

The first appears under the “Overview” section (screenshot here) of Gujarat textbooks. It states (quoted verbatim, without correcting grammar):

“Establishment

“Gujarat state Textbook Mandal was established in AD 1969 on 21st October. Since 38 year mandals main target. High quality textbooks are published and to Gujarat students they are easily available at reasonable prices.

Through Mandal Std. 1-12 Gujarati Medium textbooks are published. Thereafter in Hindi, English, Marathi, Sindhi, Urdu, Sanskrit and Tamil Language also text books are published.

Board Committees

Mandals whole management is done properly; it decided objectives are fulfilled for that Board Committee is formed as below.

(1) General Board (2) Director Board (3) Working committee (4) Educational committee (5) Production committee (6) Research committee.

Above mentioned all committee’s administration works properly regarding that advise suggestions are given.

Aakar Patel

 

Mandal distribution related works

Printed textbooks are distributed in whole Gujarat at Government level working organizations through them with district distributor textbook are sold in retail for that work distributors are hired. Retailers registration is done in mandal. In Ahmedabad also Ahmedabad has its own selling centre. (Sale Depot, Godown no. 9 below Asarva Bridge, Ahmedabad – 380016, Ph. 22133920) is there. At any institute or personal level to any student from this sale centre textbook can be availed at retailing std. from outside Gujarat through money order or bank draft also textbooks can be obtained.

Mandals research related work

Textbook mandal by publishing textbook is not satisfied. Textbooks quality improves continuously for that research related work is also done. From primary teacher to university professors knowledgeable persons are joined in evaluation programme and other educational programme. Textbooks writers, advisers, translators etc. for them work of finding genius is done.

Mandal’s work in new sector

Basic subject’s textbook – AD 1999 to Std. 11-12, basic subject 26 textbooks publishing being done Mandal for general exam additional subjects through textbook relevant sectors students are provided basic literature. Due to this in village and Kurshi sector also Mandal human research development important work could give own contribution.”

The second is what the department calls a “Disclaimer” (screenshot here):

“Gujarat Government Education Department related information is easily available to people from one place only with that aim this website is developed. Regarding this matter if you have any opinion then you are requested to contact us. To keep this site latest and the mistake that come our consideration to correct those mistakes all efforts will be done. In this site document information created by people and private organizations is there. The information available for outside, on its exactness, co ordination latest or completion we have no control or we can give any promise, this matter has to be kept in mind.

The information of this web site is for the benefit of general public and from it any legal right or responsibility is not created. For over sight or any mistake of typing this department is not responsible.

If any information is not true or some corrections are needed in it, if this is known then the steps to solve it opinions can be given. This web sites documents/samples (PDF file) soft copy and hard copy thus from both they are taken. While conversion certain documents formatting may change that can happen for conversion raised mistakes efforts are done of correcting it. In spite of that now also there can be any mistake in it. If regarding this matter you have any questions then original documents respective copies have to be brought or you are requested to contact us. Moreover for linked sites policy or method we are not responsible.”

Established in 2007–2008, the site has had a whopping 19,816,644 visitors. Yet it hasn’t been updated since 2014 — the year Modi left Gujarat to become the country’s Prime Minister. On Google, interestingly, the site is labelled as “Not secure or Dangerous,” with its identity marked as “not verified” (screenshot here).

Courtesy: CounterView

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This blog is a continuation of my story “English proficiency for empowerment: Modi’s SCOPE vision contrasts Amit Shah’s remark”. I personally found nothing unusual in the Union Home Minister’s “feel ashamed” remark directed at those who speak in English, as I have witnessed his dislike for the language on several occasions during my stint as the Times of India representative in Gandhinagar from 1997 to 2012.

In fact, Amit Shah never tried to hide his disdain for English. He would candidly tell me that he didn’t read the Times of India because it was an English daily. Once, ahead of a mass rally during an assembly election campaign in a tribal-dominated region of Gujarat that Modi was about to address, I spotted him. On seeing me, he objected to a particular news item I had written. I asked, “How do you know? You don’t read the Times of India.” He responded, “Yes, but others tell me what appears in your paper.”

On another occasion, as narrated to me later, Shah, accompanied by senior BJP leader Purshottam Rupala, reached my office to lodge a complaint about a report I had written. Bharat Desai, then my editor, heard them out patiently. Suddenly, Shah snapped, “Who reads your English paper?” To this, Desai calmly replied, “If nobody reads our paper, why have you come here? You can have tea and leave.”

Shah’s attitude wasn’t limited to just a contempt for English. Once, while discussing the poor state of education in Gujarat in his home minister’s chamber—an issue many would privately raise—I asked him what he thought should be done to improve the state’s educational standards, which I believed were among the poorest in India. His informal reply was startling: “Nothing needs to be done. It’s doing fine. No need to change things.”

Ironically, no one seemed to understand the importance of English for improving educational standards in Gujarat better than his boss, Narendra Modi. Unlike many earlier chief ministers, Modi went out of his way to promote English education in schools. His flagship initiative, SCOPE—Society for Creation of Opportunities through Proficiency in English—was launched with this very objective and continues to this day.

I don’t know the exact reason, but I believe he was convinced that English was a crucial business requirement for attracting investment to Gujarat. One of the major hurdles for those looking to set up enterprises in the state has been the poor educational standards of Gujarati job seekers, which he seemed to associate with their weak English communication skills. I have no reason to believe that he has changed his view after becoming the Prime Minister.

From what I gathered during my days at Sachivalaya, after Modi became chief minister, he consistently urged government officials to draft policies to make English a compulsory subject at the primary and secondary levels. In doing so, he even went against his trusted protégé Anandiben Patel—then education minister and now UP governor—who once told me, “We don’t need English, we need Sanskrit.” Modi’s push for English education became a sore point for many in the RSS.

Once, a pro-RSS group running a school in Gandhinagar, Vidya Bharati, invited journalists for a press-cum-lunch meet. Cloaking a swadeshi garb, their aim was to accuse Modi of “neglecting” Sanskrit in favour of English. They even announced an agitation against this perceived slight to Sanskrit—an agitation that never materialized. I reported the event for the Times of India.

Despite his ideological leanings, credit for reviving English in Gujarat must go to Modi—even though his command of the language was initially weak. During his first business summit, Resurgent Gujarat, held in early February 2002 in the presence of the British ambassador, Modi pronounced “delegates” as “dulgats,” causing amused chuckles in the audience. Yet, he took a surprisingly pragmatic approach to the language that Shah dismissed as “foreign.”

Within three years in office, Modi had improved his English considerably. Around 2003 or 2004, he inaugurated an IT event at InfoCity in Gandhinagar, supported by a global firm. He spoke in English, ex tempore, using short but grammatically correct sentences. During subsequent Vibrant Gujarat summits, Modi continued to speak off-the-cuff in English, without a teleprompter, fully aware that foreign dignitaries and entrepreneurs were key participants.

Even while denouncing “English culture,” Modi, by 2003, had begun instructing officials to draft education policies to overcome English language deficiencies. In fact, his was the first major reversal of a flawed language policy that had persisted since the 1960s. That policy, the result of a debate between two ministers both surnamed Thakore—one dubbed “Thakorebhai Panchava” for wanting English from Class 5, the other “Thakorebhai Athva” for preferring it from Class 8—had led to a compromise: schools could choose. The result? Children began English in Class 8, and dropped it by Class 10, producing a generation with little or no English proficiency.

Modi seemed to recognize this gap as a barrier to Gujarat’s global aspirations. He pushed for English in schools. A key obstacle, then and now, was the chronic shortage of English teachers—but the blame for that lay with his predecessors.

Looking back at my stories for Times of India, I found that in 2006, Modi urged the education department to launch a movement promoting spoken English among Gujarati youth. At the department’s Chintan Shibir, he stressed the importance of this skill: “Poor English among the Gujarati youth is telling adversely on their standing in the world. This stigma should be removed at the earliest. There is a need to develop an atmosphere in which the Gujarati youth, well-equipped with English, are able to show their best skills to the world.”

This was not Modi’s first push for English. A year earlier, in 2005, he proposed starting English education from Class 1. Although the idea gained traction in the bureaucracy, he had to backtrack due to resistance from the Sangh Parivar. The RSS’s education wing, Shiksha Bharati, labeled the move “anti-swadeshi.”

Even in the mid-1990s, when Gujarat decided to introduce English from Class 5, it had declared the subject non-examinable—so most students didn’t study it. Modi changed that in 2004, making English exams mandatory in Class 5 across the state.

“There is indeed a major change now. Even rural areas show a strong interest in English. With free textbooks, rural children are now scoring better in English than in other subjects,” Nalin Pandit, former director of Gujarat Council of Educational Research and Training (GCERT), once told me.

Thanks to Modi’s insistence, the Indian Institute of Teachers’ Education (IITE) was established in 2010 as a university with English as the medium of instruction. I had quoted him in a report saying, “World-class teachers to be produced at IITE must be taught in a language used internationally.” A brainchild of Modi, IITE today offers BA-BEd and BEd-MEd programs in English at its Centre of Education, while affiliated colleges offer B.Ed programs in both English and Gujarati.

IITE emphasizes the development of communication skills in both the mother tongue and English, showing a commitment to multilingualism in teacher training—a vision that stands in direct contrast to the anti-English rhetoric of Amit Shah.

Courtesy: CounterView

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The report suggests that multidimensional poverty in Gujarat declined by around 7% over a period of five years, pointing out that in tribal-dominated districts, where poverty levels were particularly high, there has been a clear improvement: in Dahod from 54.93% to 38.27%, in Dangs from 57.33% to 26.61%, in Narmada from 37.11% to 22.62%, and in Panchmahal from 41.52% to 18.11%.

Basing its estimates on the National Family Health Surveys of 2015–16 and 2019–21, the report claims the “most rapid reduction” in multidimensional poverty occurred in districts located in four states: Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, and Rajasthan.

While not directly disputing what the Government of India report highlights regarding Gujarat, a new survey carried out by a civil rights group in two tribal districts — Dahod and Panchmahal — and two non-tribal districts — Bhavnagar and Morbi — suggests that things aren’t as rosy as they are made out to be.

A follow-up to a similar survey carried out in 2004, the new survey — conducted in 2025 by Anandi (Area Networking and Development Initiatives or ASAA) — reveals that, even after two decades, total food security continues to elude nearly 80% of the population in the surveyed areas. To quote Sejal A. Dand, a senior activist directly involved in both the 2004 and 2025 surveys, two decades ago, 10% of people were found to be “food secure,” and this percentage has gone up by just 2% over the years — to 12%.

Releasing details of the 2025 survey, which was conducted with the help of senior academic Prof. Dipa Sinha, currently with Azim Premji University, another Anandi activist, Neeta Hardikar, told the Ahmedabad media that there is certainly a change: unlike in 2004, there is “no full day hunger” as found then, “but our survey suggests that a large number of households often don’t have access to food, especially in the tribal areas.”

The survey results confirm this: in 2004, it was found that in the sample households of the tribal area of Panchmahal, a staggering 73.66% were food insecure for more than six months in a year. In contrast, the 2025 survey shows that 7.06% “live in hunger,” while a whopping 86.38% have “incomplete meal,” and only 6.56% have a “full meal.” Conditions are worse in Dahod district: here, 24.61% live in hunger, 58.78% have “incomplete meal,” and only 16.61% have a “full meal.”

The 2025 results indicate that the situation is not much better in the non-tribal areas of the Saurashtra region of Gujarat where the survey was also conducted. In Malia (Morbi district), 9.10% “lived in hunger,” 75.51% had “incomplete meal,” while only 15.38% had a “full meal.” Similarly, in Shihor and Umrala of Bhavnagar district, 15.98% “lived in hunger”, 54.84% had “incomplete meal,” and just 14.13% had a “full meal.”

The 2025 survey was undertaken specifically to assess how effectively the National Food Security Act, 2013 — which aims to provide subsidized food grains to approximately two-thirds of the country’s 1.4 billion people — has been implemented since it became operational in Gujarat about a decade ago. A total of 1,261 households were included in the survey, mostly belonging to marginalised communities, with a deliberate effort to include those facing social vulnerabilities such as single women, the disabled, and the elderly.

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An action research report, “Invited Disaster: Khadi Floods in Surat City”, published by two civil rights groups, Paryavaran Suraksha Samiti and the People’s Union for Civil Liberties, Surat, states that nearly half of Gujarat’s top urban conglomerate—known for its concentration of textile and diamond polishing industries—is affected by the dumping of debris and solid waste, along with the release of treated and untreated sewage into the khadis (rivulets), thereby increasing the risk of flood disaster.

Conducted by two post-graduate students from Azim Premji University, Avadhut Atre and Buddhavikas Athawale, with assistance from environmental lawyer Krishnakant Chauhan, architect Sugeet Pathakji, environmentalist Rohit Prajapati, and urban planner Neha Sarwate, the study is based on field observations of the khadis passing through the South Gujarat town.

Using available secondary data, the study corroborates and confirms observed changes in these rivulets—intended as natural stormwater drainage channels for the urban area—through historical satellite images from Google Earth and interviews with stakeholders.

According to the study, authorized and unauthorized constructions, land reclamation along khadis, and resectioning and remodeling of khadi flows have severely compromised their capacity to carry stormwater. “In many areas in Surat city, smaller natural waterways have been levelled and converted into roads to facilitate traffic flow, overlooking the critical need for smooth stormwater drainage,” it asserts.

The study notes, “It can be said that the rainwater falling in city areas is unable to exit due to the ‘development’ of the city. The flooding of khadis impacts the eastern part of Surat city, affecting over 50% of Surat’s population. The textile trade also suffers during flooding, leading to economic losses.”

It estimates that khadi floods affect East Zone A, East Zone B, South East Zone, South Zone, and South West Zone, which collectively house approximately 43,75,207 of Surat’s total 82,32,085 residents.

More alarmingly, the study points out that the khadis are fed by discharges from sewage treatment plants. Moreover, numerous illegal outlets release both domestic and industrial effluents into the khadis. In fact, the city’s expanding periphery contributes untreated sewage into these waterways.

Containing a large collection of Google Earth images—compared from 2011 through 2025—of several rivulets such as Mithi Khadi, Koyali Khadi, Bhedwad Khadi, and Kankara Khadi, the study criticizes the Surat Municipal Corporation (SMC) for undertaking desilting as part of pre-monsoon preparedness “without due caution,” which, it claims, harms floodplain areas and reduces the capacity of the khadis to handle excess monsoon water.

One such example is a bridge over Mithi Khadi, now surrounded by a high wall over land that previously acted as a floodplain. Landfilling has raised the terrain above the natural flood level, pushing water toward other low-lying areas. “The obstruction around the bridge hampers smooth flow of water during the monsoon,” the report says.

The study further observes that construction and reclamation have reduced floodplain areas and the width of khadi stretches. Dumping and landfilling have drastically altered the elevation profile. At one site, a compound wall built in 2018 has resulted in the khadi being embanked by a concrete wall, shrinking its original area.

At another site, textile waste is directly dumped into the khadi, while accumulated solid waste and soil significantly hinder water flow. “A sewage outlet was observed discharging domestic and chemical wastewater—particularly from nearby units—into the khadi.”

Focusing on Koyali Khadi, the report notes that road construction over it restricts natural water dispersion, causing severe waterlogging in the surrounding areas during monsoon. Particularly concerning is the ongoing project from Bhathena Naher bridge to Jeevan Jyot bridge, where the khadi is being fully concretized, drastically reducing its natural capacity.

The researchers warn, “With little to no space for excess water to flow or merge into other channels, this development poses a high risk of urban flooding and long-term stagnation during monsoons.” They add that the silt removed during desilting is often dumped on the banks, only to wash back into the khadi during heavy rain.

A comparative analysis of Google satellite imagery from 2011 to 2025 at Saniya Hemad village, located on Surat’s fringe, reveals “a noticeable alteration in the khadi’s flow pattern.” The 2011 image shows a naturally meandering khadi, while the 2025 image reveals a straightened course.

“Although this engineered modification may appear efficient in the short term, it shortens flow duration and reduces water retention, diminishing both ecological and flood-buffering functions,” the researchers highlight.

Near the Raghuvir Trade Market on Bhavani Road, earlier imagery showed a visible khadi flow, which by 2025 has vanished due to construction. Built-up structures over the khadi’s path have obstructed this natural drainage, increasing the risk of urban flooding.

Examining the impact of development on water flow, the study notes that the Bhedwad Khadi followed a wider, more continuous path in 2011. By 2025, construction near Bamroli cricket ground has narrowed its course and reduced its flow capacity.

It adds that near the Dindoli Water Treatment Plant, the Bhedwad Khadi’s course has been significantly altered and straightened for aesthetic reasons, severely compromising its natural flow.

In the area around Om Industrial Estate in Saroli, researchers found the khadi’s path constantly shifting. Its older flow, once almost gone, reappeared in 2025 imagery. “Taming a khadi and constructing concrete embankments drastically alters its natural behavior,” they say, “leading to unintended consequences such as heavy silt accumulation.”

At the Kankara biodiversity park, a 2016 image shows the right bank of Kankara Khadi concretized with a diaphragm wall. The park and a road were built by raising the land level. By 2025, both banks have diaphragm walls, eliminating the khadi’s natural meander and floodplains.

Further, near Gabheni village on the city outskirts, the khadi’s course has changed due to drastic land use alterations. “Legal and illegal shrimp farms have contributed to this change. Industrial waste dumping here has led to severe water and soil pollution,” the report adds.

During fieldwork, most respondents identified poor stormwater drainage as the key issue. “Drains are too narrow, broken, or absent in some areas,” the study says. These are further clogged by solid waste, particularly plastic, discarded by residents and industries.

Shopkeepers highlighted the lack of regular SMC clean-up. They reported repeated losses during monsoon, as inventories are damaged and earnings suffer. Businesses shut down for days due to prolonged water stagnation.

In low-lying markets, encroachment on khadi banks and lack of flood management lead to backflow during heavy rainfall. Locals noted a rise in unseasonal rains, aggravating waterlogging. Builders acknowledged that unplanned urbanization has severely disrupted the city’s hydrology.

“Residents, particularly near Koyali and Mithi khadi, emphasized the interlinkage among the khadis. When Kankara Khadi overflows, water backflows into Mithi Khadi, causing flooding in homes. This is devastating in low-lying areas with poor housing,” the study notes.

“Loss of income is the most immediate impact,” residents report. For shopkeepers and daily wage earners, flooding forces closures for several days. One woman said, “I am the sole earner. When it floods, work halts for 4–5 days. My shop remains shut for a week. We then rely on SMC for food and water.”

Mobility is another major issue. Waterlogged streets restrict access to work and healthcare. Children miss school, and both public and private transport becomes unreliable due to submerged roads.

The report concludes by stressing health risks. Waterborne diseases like fever, diarrhea, and skin infections, along with vector-borne diseases like dengue and malaria, increase after khadi floods. Residents mentioned rising medical expenses, adding strain to financially stressed households. “Stagnant water near homes, especially by khadi banks, becomes mosquito breeding grounds, worsening health conditions,” it warns.

Courtesy: CounterView

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