top of page

By:

Kuldeep Ambekar

22 September 2024 at 10:02:18 am

New Names, Old Realities

Renaming hostels may soothe stigma, but it does little to fix the conditions that define students’ lives AI generated image Pune: Recently, the Social Justice and Special Assistance Department decided to excise the term ‘Backward Class’ from the names of its government hostels and rechristen them after revered historical figures. While the move to replace them with names that evoke dignity and achievement is, on the face of it, a step towards psychological emancipation, it is also a reminder...

New Names, Old Realities

Renaming hostels may soothe stigma, but it does little to fix the conditions that define students’ lives AI generated image Pune: Recently, the Social Justice and Special Assistance Department decided to excise the term ‘Backward Class’ from the names of its government hostels and rechristen them after revered historical figures. While the move to replace them with names that evoke dignity and achievement is, on the face of it, a step towards psychological emancipation, it is also a reminder of a familiar tendency in public policy: to mistake symbolism for substance. Across Maharashtra, more than 400 such hostels house thousands of students from rural, tribal and economically weaker backgrounds. For many, these institutions are not mere lodgings; they are the first foothold in an unfamiliar urban landscape, the fragile bridge between deprivation and opportunity. If India’s promise of social mobility is to mean anything, it must begin in places such as these. Sobering Reality But the reality within their walls is sobering. In numerous hostels, access to clean drinking water remains erratic; during the punishing summer months, students rely on water tankers. Sanitary facilities are often in disrepair, with broken drainage systems and irregular cleaning. Food, a basic determinant of health and cognitive ability, is frequently reported to be of poor quality, nutritionally deficient and sourced from substandard supplies. Regular health check-ups are rare, and medical emergencies are handled with alarming uncertainty. These are not minor administrative lapses. They strike at the heart of what ‘social justice’ purports to achieve. A system that promises uplift but delivers neglect risks entrenching the very inequalities it seeks to erase. The contradictions extend beyond infrastructure. In the name of safety, some hostels lack even basic surveillance, while others deploy it in ways that constrain students’ autonomy. Communication between staff and residents is often strained, marked by indifference rather than empathy. Urban hostels, predictably, fare somewhat better. Rural ones lag far behind, reflecting the broader unevenness of state capacity. More troubling still is the creeping culture of control. Under the guise of discipline, students are discouraged and sometimes explicitly threatened from participating in social or political movements. This is a sharp departure from the historical role these hostels once played. They were incubators of ideas, crucibles of leadership and, at times, engines of social change. It was in such spaces that B. R. Ambedkar’s exhortation of “Educate, Agitate, Organize” found its most fertile ground. Education, in this conception, was never meant to be a narrow accumulation of degrees. It was a means to awaken critical consciousness, to challenge hierarchy and to imagine new social arrangements. To strip hostels of this spirit while polishing their names is to honour Ambedkar in form while neglecting him in substance. The government’s decision to rename these institutions after great icons underscores this tension. Names can inspire, but they also impose a standard. A hostel that bears the name of a social reformer or national leader implicitly promises to embody the values associated with that figure. When the infrastructure falls short, the tribute rings hollow. Meaningful Reforms What, then, would constitute a more meaningful reform? The answer is neither obscure nor prohibitively expensive. Dedicated funding for infrastructure upgrades is a starting point. Annual social audits could ensure accountability, while student representation in management would bring much-needed responsiveness. Regular health services and counselling, nutritional monitoring of meals, and access to digital libraries and competitive-exam guidance would transform these hostels from mere shelters into genuine platforms for advancement. The sums involved are modest when set against the scale of public expenditure. Governments routinely announce schemes worth thousands of crores. That a comprehensive plan to improve institutions affecting thousands of vulnerable students has yet to materialise suggests a failure not of resources, but of prioritisation. To be sure, language is not trivial. The removal of a term that connotes backwardness may, over time, chip away at internalised hierarchies. But it cannot substitute for clean water, safe sanitation or intellectual freedom. Nor can it compensate for a system that disciplines initiative rather than nurturing it. The deeper question is whether social justice is understood as a matter of optics or outcomes. If it is the former, then renaming hostels is progress enough. If it is the latter, then the task is far more demanding. It requires policy-level resolve, administrative competence and, above all, the willingness to confront uncomfortable truths about the state of public institutions. For now, the risk is that the signboards will change while the lived experience remains stubbornly the same. Maharashtra’s students deserve better. A hostel, after all, is not merely a place to sleep. It is a university of life that shapes aspirations and builds resilience.

Choking Mumbai

For decades, Mumbai was perceived as a rare urban oasis, where the saline sweep of the Arabian Sea blunted the worst ravages of India's air pollution. That illusion has now been dispelled. A meticulous four-year study by Respirer Living Sciences (RLS), using data from its AtlasAQ platform, reveals the bleak truth that the city’s air is thick with pollutants all year round, with no ‘clean season’ left.


Mumbai’s annual average levels of PM10 (particulate matter ten microns or less in diameter) have consistently breached the national safety threshold of 60 micrograms per cubic metre (μg/m³). This is not merely a seasonal malaise tied to cooler winter months, as once assumed. Alarmingly, the city’s pollution levels persist even through the hot season, a time when improved atmospheric dispersion should offer natural reprieve.


Across the city - from Chakala in Andheri East to Deonar, Kurla, Vile Parle West and Mazgaon - pollution has become an unrelenting, ubiquitous presence.


The culprits are well known: traffic emissions from a burgeoning number of vehicles; unregulated dust from frenzied construction; industrial activity in and around the ports; and a conspicuous lack of dust control measures. Mumbai’s ceaseless growth now risks becoming a chronic liability.


Worryingly, the regulatory response remains sluggish. Mumbai’s urban planning continues to treat clean air as a peripheral concern, not a foundational necessity. Development plans rarely integrate environmental impact assessments in a meaningful way.


A sharper, citywide strategy is urgently needed. Dust suppression rules at construction sites must be enforced strictly, with financial penalties for violators and incentives for best practices. Traffic management systems should be overhauled to ease congestion and encourage the use of public transport. Expansion of clean, reliable mass transit network needs to be urgently prioritised. In addition, comprehensive real-time air monitoring at the ward level should be deployed, enabling authorities to respond to localised pollution spikes swiftly rather than relying on citywide averages that conceal dangerous hotspots.


Longer-term, clean air targets must be hardwired into the city’s master planning and transport policies. Green buffers along major traffic corridors, stricter emission norms for commercial vehicles and incentives for rooftop gardens and urban afforestation could all play a part. Industrial zones near port areas should be subjected to rigorous air quality compliance measures, not token self-certifications. Private developers and large infrastructure firms, often among the worst offenders, must be made stakeholders in the clean air mission through binding regulations.


Mumbai’s commercial dynamism - as a magnet for migrants, entrepreneurs and investors - depends not just on glittering skyscrapers but on something far more basic: the ability to breathe. Unless clean air becomes an unshakeable priority, the city risks suffocating its own future. For a metropolis that prides itself on its resilience against terror attacks, monsoon floods and economic shocks, the real test will be whether it can muster the will to fight an invisible, pervasive enemy slowly corroding the lives of its 20 million citizens.

Comments

bottom of page