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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Monsoon Malaise

The substantial showers over Maharashtra this year have predictably demonstrated that it is not the skies but the government that has failed the state. The intense downpour once again exposed the frailty of the infrastructure that the ruling establishment has been celebrating. From Mumbai’s paralysed roads to the shocking deaths in open manholes sans guardrails, to the collapse of transport links between Mumbai and Pune, the rains have held up an unforgiving mirror to official complacency....

Monsoon Malaise

The substantial showers over Maharashtra this year have predictably demonstrated that it is not the skies but the government that has failed the state. The intense downpour once again exposed the frailty of the infrastructure that the ruling establishment has been celebrating. From Mumbai’s paralysed roads to the shocking deaths in open manholes sans guardrails, to the collapse of transport links between Mumbai and Pune, the rains have held up an unforgiving mirror to official complacency. For a city that witnesses monsoons every year, Mumbai’s monsoon paralysis can scarcely be described as inevitable. Roads have disappeared beneath the floodwaters and commuters have been left stranded. These are not natural disasters but administrative failures. The Pune-Mumbai Expressway, the state’s most important transport corridor, was partially shut after a concrete pillar fell near the newly inaugurated Missing Link section. Opened barely two months ago, the 13-km engineering showcase was presented as a symbol of Maharashtra’s modern infrastructure ambitions. It promised shorter travel times and smoother connectivity through the Sahyadris. Instead, the first meaningful encounter with the monsoon has raised uncomfortable questions over the quality of execution. Was there a comprehensive structural assessment of the project before it was opened? Were engineers confident that it could withstand the very weather conditions for which such infrastructure is designed? These are not partisan questions to be merely asked by the Opposition, but matters of public safety. More worrying is the cascading effect of these failures. With the Missing Link closed, the old Mumbai-Pune highway disrupted and Tamhini Ghat also rendered unusable, connectivity between Maharashtra’s political and commercial capitals has been severely compromised. Legislators themselves reportedly face uncertainty over reaching Mumbai for the ongoing Assembly session. If the state’s elected representatives struggle to move across Maharashtra, one can only imagine the plight of ordinary citizens whose livelihoods depend on functioning roads, reliable transport and basic civic services. Infrastructure earns its reputation during crises, not during inaugurations. Roads are built for rainy days and bridges are meant to withstand storms. Drainage systems exist precisely because monsoons are neither rare nor unexpected. Maharashtra has not been surprised by an eclipse or an earthquake. It has been visited by the same seasonal rains that return with remarkable punctuality every year. Invoking climate change cannot become an alibi for poor planning, weak oversight and inadequate maintenance. Resilient infrastructure is the minimum standard that citizens deserve. The first weeks of the monsoon have delivered an unmistakable verdict. Maharashtra’s infrastructure has failed its annual examination. The government can no longer hide behind the clouds. Monsoons are annual appointments, not surprise inspections. If the state cannot prepare for the one disaster it knows is coming every year, it forfeits the right to claim competence.

Lingua Pragmatica

Updated: Mar 20, 2025

As Southern leaders like M.K. Stalin rage against Hindi, Andhra Pradesh’s Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu offers a model of pragmatism over parochialism.

Chandrababu Naidu
Andhra Pradesh

Amid the cacophony of opposition in southern states to Hindi, Andhra Pradesh CM N. Chandrababu Naidu has taken a markedly pragmatic stance by remarking recently in the state Assembly that there was no harm in learning other languages. Hindi, Naidu noted, was useful for communication across India, particularly in political and commercial hubs like Delhi. His remarks, though avoiding explicit mention of the NEP, were widely seen as an endorsement of multilingualism and a rebuke to the linguistic chauvinism that has gripped parts of the South.


Few issues in India stir political passions quite like language. It is not merely a means of communication but a marker of identity, a relic of colonial resistance, and a source of political mobilization. In the southern states, where anti-Hindi sentiment has long been entrenched, the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and its three-language formula have reignited old tensions. No state embodies this defiance more than Tamil Nadu, where the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) led by M.K. Stalin has framed the policy as an assault on its linguistic autonomy.


Naidu’s words, welcomed by his ally and Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan, mark a sharp contrast with the DMK’s position. Tamil Nadu’s hostility towards Hindi dates back to the 1930s, when C. Rajagopalachari’s attempt to introduce it in schools met with fierce resistance. The anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s cemented the DMK’s ideological stance, with its first Chief Minister, C.N. Annadurai, famously warning that Hindi imposition could push Tamil Nadu towards secession.


The question, however, is whether this rigid opposition serves Tamil Nadu’s interests. While Stalin, with an eye to the upcoming Tamil Nadu Assembly polls, has been relentlessly portraying Hindi as a threat to his state’s regional identity, Naidu, a partner of the BJP-led Centre, is framing it as a tool for economic mobility. His argument is not that Hindi should replace Telugu or English but that it offers a competitive advantage.


The economic case for multilingualism is compelling. Indians who speak multiple languages tend to have better job prospects, higher earnings and greater geographic mobility. Andhra Pradesh’s Telugu-speaking diaspora is a case in point. Telugus make up a significant proportion of Indian-origin professionals in the United States, the Gulf, and Southeast Asia as Naidu pointed out, hinting that this success story was built not on linguistic rigidity but on adaptability.


In a country where inter-state migration is rising and where Hindi remains the most widely spoken language, refusing to learn it amounts to self-imposed isolation. Tamil Nadu’s approach, by contrast, risks limiting its youth. The DMK government has refused to implement the three-language policy, keeping schools strictly bilingual with Tamil and English. Its justification that Hindi is not necessary for global success could be true in a narrow sense but ignores the domestic context. If Tamil filmmakers can dub their movies into Hindi to expand their audience, why should Tamil students be denied access to the language that could open more doors for them within India?


The DMK has accused successive central governments, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), of pushing Hindi at the expense of regional languages. Yet, rejecting Hindi outright is an overcorrection. The reality is that Hindi is an important language in India’s economic and political landscape. Naidu’s position, one of accommodation rather than confrontation, offers a middle ground that other Southern leaders would do well to consider.


Some states already recognize this. Karnataka, despite its own history of linguistic pride, has allowed Hindi to be taught as an optional language. Kerala, whose migrants work in Hindi-speaking regions and the Gulf, has been less hostile to Hindi education. Naidu’s model, balancing regional identity with practical necessity, offers a way forward. Languages should be embraced, not politicized. Southern leaders would do well to listen to him.

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