Between Rubble and Resistance
We often dissociate ourselves from the violence and destruction taking place around us by putting up a smokescreen of either willful ignorance or a poor reasoning of distance. That aids in making a distinction of 'us' from 'them'. The recently published Letters From Gaza: By The People, From the Year That Has Been brings the reader closer to the conditions under which Palestinians in Gaza have been forced to live since 2023.
Edited by Mohammed Al-Zaqzooq and Mahmoud Alshaer and published by Penguin, the book is divided into three main chapters under which several letters, poems, and monologues have been categorised. If you go through the book, somewhere in the middle you're likely to come across a poem titled When A Missile Lands by Yahya Ashour (translated by ArabLit Collective). The last lines of this poem are enough to haunt you: 'But death, to my luck, shuns the ones most ready to die.' What exactly do you say about a poet who is waiting for a missile to drop on him so that he can finally die? War manifests different kinds of emotions; they can be excruciating or sometimes can even render you feeling numb. What kind of literature exactly comes out in such a scenario? Photographer Fatima Hassouna pens down her dilemma by focusing on just one word: 'why'. She goes on to question the subjugation that she is going through and the emotional toll that comes with it.
Ahmed Mortaja in Hubb and Harb, translated by Enas El-Torky, writes about survival by pretending that his surroundings are something else altogether: fireworks instead of bombings and gleeful shrieks awaiting Eid rather than cries for help. Rawan Hussein, in Burrow, translated by Wiam El-Tamami, penned down her experience of surviving this onslaught through her poem. It talks about the very real experience of living through a constant fear of whether it will be her last day or not.
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New Indian Express
20 hours ago
- New Indian Express
Between Rubble and Resistance
We often dissociate ourselves from the violence and destruction taking place around us by putting up a smokescreen of either willful ignorance or a poor reasoning of distance. That aids in making a distinction of 'us' from 'them'. The recently published Letters From Gaza: By The People, From the Year That Has Been brings the reader closer to the conditions under which Palestinians in Gaza have been forced to live since 2023. Edited by Mohammed Al-Zaqzooq and Mahmoud Alshaer and published by Penguin, the book is divided into three main chapters under which several letters, poems, and monologues have been categorised. If you go through the book, somewhere in the middle you're likely to come across a poem titled When A Missile Lands by Yahya Ashour (translated by ArabLit Collective). The last lines of this poem are enough to haunt you: 'But death, to my luck, shuns the ones most ready to die.' What exactly do you say about a poet who is waiting for a missile to drop on him so that he can finally die? War manifests different kinds of emotions; they can be excruciating or sometimes can even render you feeling numb. What kind of literature exactly comes out in such a scenario? Photographer Fatima Hassouna pens down her dilemma by focusing on just one word: 'why'. She goes on to question the subjugation that she is going through and the emotional toll that comes with it. Ahmed Mortaja in Hubb and Harb, translated by Enas El-Torky, writes about survival by pretending that his surroundings are something else altogether: fireworks instead of bombings and gleeful shrieks awaiting Eid rather than cries for help. Rawan Hussein, in Burrow, translated by Wiam El-Tamami, penned down her experience of surviving this onslaught through her poem. It talks about the very real experience of living through a constant fear of whether it will be her last day or not.
India Gazette
6 days ago
- India Gazette
'Our world is over': Relatives of Air India victims mourn their loss
From London to Ahmedabad, grief ripples across continents as the full toll of the tragedy comes into focus What began as a joyful Eid homecoming turned into an unimaginable tragedy for the Syed family in Malad, a suburb of Mumbai in Maharashtra's western region. Their son, Javed Ali Syed - an award-winning hotel manager based in the UK - had returned home with his wife, Mariam, and their two young children, six-year-old Amani and four-year-old Zayn, to celebrate Eid al-Adha, the annual Muslim festival that fell on June 7 this year. On June 12, the family of four boarded their flight back to London, carrying memories and promises of a future reunion. But fate had other plans. "I still can't believe my brother and his entire family are gone," said Syed Imtiaz Ali, Javed's younger brother, as he waited anxiously for the DNA identification process at Civil Hospital in Ahmedabad. "I still look at his messages, his photos... I can't accept that he's gone," Ali said, his voice heavy with grief. "I keep thinking he'll call, that he'll come back. We haven't even told our mother - she's a heart patient. She wouldn't be able to bear this loss." He added that he hasn't slept in days. It was Javed's wife, Mariam, who had booked Air India Flight 171 from Ahmedabad to London Gatwick. But the journey ended in catastrophe - the plane crashed just moments after takeoff, leaving only one survivor. Javed, Mariam, and their two young children were among the youngest victims of what is now counted as one of India's deadliest aviation tragedies. The tragedy of June 12 unfolded in mere seconds - a Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner burst into flames shortly after takeoff from Ahmedabad's Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport, crashing into a medical college in a densely populated residential area. Thick plumes of black smoke choked the sky for hours. A journey of celebration for many left the whole of India in mourning. "We didn't know this would be his last Eid," Javed's father said, his voice breaking. "All four of them were British citizens. We had no idea it would be the last time we saw them." He spoke of Javed's long struggle to build a life in the UK. "He worked so hard to get settled there. He had finally made it. He had promised to support everyone back home. He was happy about a promotion, and he wanted to buy a house for his mother, to take her to London. But our world has collapsed." "We are a lower-middle-class family. Javed was our hope. We can't come to terms with losing four members of our family. We just can't accept it." The family of Javed Ali from Mumbai, who was killed in the Air India crash in Ahmedabad on June 12. Only one person miraculously survived the London-bound Air India flight, walking away from the wreckage with impact injuries. Many have called it nothing short of a miracle. The rest, authorities said, were burned beyond recognition, their identities still being confirmed through DNA testing. At Ahmedabad's Civil Hospital, grieving families refuse to leave until they see what remains, no matter how devastating. "We want to see them one last time," said Imtiaz, adding that his eyes are locked on his phone, scrolling through photos of his niece and nephew - snapshots taken just before the family boarded the doomed flight. He shared a twist of fate that spared another member of the family. "My elder sister had planned to travel with them," he said. "But she couldn't get a ticket and had to take a different flight. She reached London - they didn't." India's federal government has launched a high-level inquiry into the crash, with the Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB) leading the probe, supported by the Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) and international experts from the UK, US, and the aircraft's engine manufacturers. In response to growing safety concerns, the Civil Aviation Ministry has also ordered enhanced maintenance checks across Air India's entire Boeing 787 fleet. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who visited the crash site and met with survivors in hospital, called the tragedy "heartbreaking beyond words." 'It was like a big blast' For residents living near the crash site, the sound was deafening. "It was like a massive blast, followed by thick black smoke billowing into the sky," said Nitin Sirkar, 45, who lives just ten minutes away from where the aircraft went down in Ahmedabad. "We couldn't understand what had happened." An official involved in the rescue operation told RT that fragments of the aircraft were scattered across the area, and the victims' bodies were charred beyond recognition. "The smoke from the wreckage didn't stop for hours," the official added. Four days on, authorities are still in the process of identifying victims through DNA testing - a painstaking task that has left grieving families in anguish. While officials say they are working around the clock, the sheer scale of destruction has made the process agonizingly slow. An Air India Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner crashes after takeoff from Ahmedabad airport en route to London, Meghani area, India, June 12, 2025. Saurabh Sirohiya/NurPhoto via Getty Images "The most haunting part was receiving fragments instead of whole bodies - it broke everyone," said a hospital worker, who spoke on condition of anonymity. According to him, medical staff have been working nonstop to expedite the DNA matching process so the remains can be handed over for the final rites. "The families are devastated and angry. Each day feels like a year to them," he said. "We understand their pain, but the damage is beyond comprehension. The bodies are burned, charred, and reduced to unrecognizable pieces." Building a life between two worlds - India and UK Dr Prateek Joshi was the only son of Mohan and Sunita Joshi from the northern state of Rajasthan. In his last selfie, Prakeet's family of five is sitting across from each other on the flight, wide smiles lighting up their faces, as if a long-awaited dream had finally taken flight. They didn't know it would be their last. According to his family, Dr Prateek Joshi had spent years building his life between two worlds - India, where his roots ran deep, and the UK, where a promising future awaited. The consultant radiologist had recently started working at Royal Derby Hospital and Queen's Hospital Burton. After over two years of working away from his family, he was finally bringing them over to begin a new chapter in the UK. On June 12, he boarded the Air India flight from Ahmedabad with his wife, Komi Vyas, a physiotherapist, and their three young children - daughter Miraya and twin sons, Pradyut and Nakul. "The family had been preparing for this moment for months. Komi had resigned from her job in India to join her husband, and the children were excited to settle into a new home in Leicester, where my son had already set up a life for them," relayed Mohan Joshi, father of Prateek, from his home in Banswara, Rajasthan. Joshi said that their world had ended in a single instant. "I had bought new school bags for my grandkids, and during the last night in India, they kept them close to themselves and said they would use them in London. I cannot forget their faces, their voice still rings in my ears. Prateek always spoke of reuniting and a bright future ahead. Now, that future has vanished," Mohan added, his voice shaking with grief. An Air India Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner crashes after takeoff from Ahmedabad airport, Meghani area, India, June 12, 2025. Saurabh Sirohiya/NurPhoto via Getty Images Prateek's mother is unable to hold on to the shock of losing her son and his whole family in the crash. "He worked so hard for a better future, only to end like this. Now, our lives and our home are empty without them and with the thought that they will never be back," Sunita Joshi said. The families have spent sleepless nights in the corridors of Ahmedabad's Civil Hospital - crying, waiting, hoping against hope to take their loved ones home, or what remains of them. The Air India flight had crashed into the residential quarters of BJ Medical College, setting off a firestorm that sent thick plumes of black smoke spiraling into the sky - a scene captured in haunting eyewitness videos. Among the victims was former Gujarat Chief Minister Vijay Rupani, whose death sent shockwaves through the state. Of the 242 people on board, the passenger list included two pilots and ten cabin crew. A total of 169 were Indian nationals, while 53 were citizens of the United Kingdom. India has faced several major air disasters. The worst was the 1996 Charkhi Dadri mid-air collision, which killed 349 people. In 1985, the bombing of Air India Flight 182 off Ireland killed 329. The 1978 Mumbai crash claimed 213 lives, and the 2020 Kozhikode crash killed 21. Most recently, the 2025 Ahmedabad Air India crash left 241 dead out of 242 on board, marking one of the deadliest in India's aviation history. Raveena Christian is mourning the loss of her son, Lawrence Christian, at their home in Ahmedabad. The 30-year-old, who worked in Britain, had returned to India just two weeks earlier to perform the last rites of his father. On June 12, he was on his way back - but never made it. Investigators at the crash site of an Air India Boeing 787 Dreamliner in Ahmedabad, India, June 13, 2025."Just 17 days ago , I lost my husband," Raveena said, her voice trembling. "My daughter is still studying, and Lawrence was the one holding our family together. He had taken a loan for our home... he was everything to us." She recalled frantically searching the hospital for signs of hope. "I kept wandering from ward to ward, thinking maybe - just maybe - he had survived." "We don't know how to go on without him," she said.
Time of India
22-06-2025
- Time of India
From national crisis to national cure: Lessons from Indore's clean sweep
V. Raghunathan is a former Director of the Schulich School of Business (India Program), York University, Toronto, a former professor at IIM Ahmedabad and a former President of ING Vysya Bank. A prolific author, he has written over 15 books, including the national bestseller Games Indians Play (Penguin). With more than 600 published papers and articles, his latest books include The Lion, The Admiral, and A Cat Called B. Uma Vijaylakshmi (Westland, 2025) and To Every Parent; To Every Child (Penguin, 2025) and Irrationally Rational: 10 Nobel Laureates Script the Story of Behavioural Economics (Penguin 2022), among others. LESS ... MORE We are a nation of stark contradictions: deeply spiritual, revering rivers like the Ganga and Yamuna in our mythology and rituals yet ranked among the world's most polluted nations. If we are ashamed, it's not showing. At least not enough. Our sacred rivers are heavily contaminated by untreated sewage, industrial effluents, and religious offerings. Urban drainage systems remain outdated, and sanitation workers –many from marginalized communities – risk their lives cleaning sewers without proper safety gear, reflecting systemic neglect and caste-based discrimination. Air pollution, especially in Delhi, and streets clogged with garbage and stench further underscore the crisis. Even India's proud railway network discharges waste directly onto tracks, exemplifying systemic neglect. Despite ambitious initiatives like Swachh Bharat, many toilets remain unused, and waste management remains primitive, burning, burying, or dumping refuse in open spaces. Public areas are overwhelmed with plastic, food waste, and debris, driven by cultural laxity and apathy. Education campaigns alone have limited impact without enforcement or civic pride. Ultimately, India's sanitation challenge isn't just infrastructural; it demands a cultural reset, transforming slogans into ingrained civic habits. But amid this pervasive gloom, there is a shining beacon: Indore. Once a typical mid-sized city plagued by waste, stench, and civic apathy, Indore has redefined what's possible. It has topped India's Swachh Survekshan rankings for six consecutive years, proving that cleanliness is not a fantasy but an achievable reality. This success didn't happen by chance; it was the result of deliberate design, relentless execution, and a profound cultural shift. India doesn't lack the knowledge or technology; it lacks the will and persistent effort. Indore demonstrated that with political resolve, professional leadership, and active citizen participation, transformation is inevitable. So, what exactly did Indore do right? Can its model be replicated across India? The answer lies in a series of strategic steps: A mission-oriented approach Indore's core strength was establishing a unified, empowered, and accountable sanitation task force. Instead of responsibility being scattered across multiple departments, the city brought together municipal officials, private waste contractors, sanitation workers, engineers, health officials, and citizens. This was more than creating committees; it was about making cleanliness a civic mission. Targets were set, budgets allocated, and results tracked. The city's leadership, from the mayor to the frontline workers, embraced the vision of making Indore India's cleanest city, and they delivered. For other cities, a similar Decentralised Urban Sanitation Mission (DUSM) should be established – an autonomous, professional body with a dedicated chief sanitation officer and cross-functional teams. Funding from the Centre and states must prioritize sanitation as a core public health issue, not an afterthought. Segregated at source Indore broke new ground by enforcing 100% household segregation of waste into wet, dry, and hazardous categories. It was not just about distributing coloured bins; it involved sustained public education, strict penalties, and daily feedback. Over 1,600 'safai mitras' or sanitation ambassadors, were deployed, each assigned specific households and trained to promote cleanliness. GPS-tracked waste collection vehicles monitored punctuality and coverage. Wet waste was processed locally through composting and bio-methanation, dry waste was sorted for recycling, and hazardous waste was carefully disposed of. This professional backbone and community buy-in reduced landfill dependence, increased recycling, and restored dignity to sanitation workers. India must emulate this model, not with promises, but with on-ground action. Professionalisation of sanitation services Dependence on contractual labour and outdated methods hampers progress. Indore invested in professional facility management firms, performance-based contracts, and tech-enabled monitoring. Workers received protective gear, uniforms, insurance, and training. Routine cleaning, proactive drain clearance, and emergency response systems became standard. India needs a National Institute of Urban Cleanliness Management to train municipal leaders, engineers, and frontline workers. Sanitation must become a science and profession, not caste-based toil. Staff must be paid better, insured, housed, and protected; dignity and safety are non-negotiable. Upgrade Infrastructure Physical infrastructure is vital. Indore replaced open drains with covered sewers, built public toilets every 500 meters, and installed modern dustbins based on data, not politics. A central control centre monitored real-time operations, waste vehicle movements, and public complaints. QR codes allowed citizens to rate toilets; apps and helplines made reporting issues easy. Transparency built trust, encouraging usage. Every city must conduct ground-level audits, prioritize maintenance over new construction, and ensure infrastructure supports daily cleaning and waste disposal. Behavioural change: As in the 'Roko-Toko' revolution Perhaps Indore's most understated achievement is the cultural shift it inspired. The 'Roko-Toko' campaign, meaning 'Stop and Remind', encouraged children, shopkeepers, and volunteers to politely stop people from littering, offering chocolates or tokens as incentives to do the right thing. This simple act fostered pride and made cleanliness a matter of honour. Schools actively engaged students in cleanliness drives, while local celebrities, radio shows, and community events helped reinforce the message. To deepen this impact, India should emulate the Japanese model by mandating schools, both government and private, to involve staff and students in maintaining cleanliness, including proper waste disposal and toilet hygiene, with staff equipped with protective gear like gloves and masks. This requires a serious overhaul of school curricula to include environmental civics and sanitation ethics. Public campaigns must move beyond preachy slogans; humour, pride, and community ownership should become the driving forces. 'Swachh Bharat' will only succeed when cleanliness becomes a daily habit, ingrained in the cultural fabric rather than just posters and slogans. The War on Plastic and Air Pollution Plastic waste must be tackled at the source. Indore promoted cloth bags, ran buyback schemes for plastic, and encouraged eco-friendly packaging like areca leaves and coconut shells. Strict enforcement of single-use plastic bans is essential. Additionally, air quality must be integrated into sanitation efforts; dust suppression, mechanized street sweeping, and emissions control are public health priorities, not luxuries. Railways and rural adaptation Railways and transit hubs are critical fronts in the fight for hygiene. All trains must adopt bio-vacuum toilets with automatic locks when stationary, preventing waste discharge onto tracks. Major stations should be managed by professional cleaning firms under strict service-level agreements, with regular audits to ensure standards. Tracks must be maintained like hospital floors – clean and hygienic. In rural India, the focus must go beyond toilet construction. Toilets must be functional, with reliable water supply and maintenance. Village-level composting, segregated waste collection, and panchayat-linked funding can incentivize sustained performance. Awareness campaigns should address behavioural taboos respectfully, fostering long-term change. In conclusion, Indore is not a miracle; it is a model. If a city with all its complexities can lead the way, every municipality, district, and state in India can follow suit. But this requires political resolve, civic participation, and consistent, professional execution. The real lesson is not just how to clean a city but how to build a culture of cleanliness, one that endures. If India can do this, we can finally stop bowing to the Ganga with one hand while poisoning her with the other. Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
