The Beam That Blinds the Drone

As cheap drones reshape the battlefield, India’s T-SHUL BEAM points to a future in which electronic warfare may matter as much as firepower The drone has definitively become the weapon of choice for the modern battlefield. Cheap, expendable and increasingly autonomous, unmanned aerial vehicles can now threaten troops, armour, airfields and critical infrastructure without requiring the attacker to risk a pilot. Their proliferation has created a corresponding demand for counter-drone systems...

min read

As cheap drones reshape the battlefield, India’s T-SHUL BEAM points to a future in which electronic warfare may matter as much as firepower The drone has definitively become the weapon of choice for the modern battlefield. Cheap, expendable and increasingly autonomous, unmanned aerial vehicles can now threaten troops, armour, airfields and critical infrastructure without requiring the attacker to risk a pilot. Their proliferation has created a corresponding demand for counter-drone systems that can respond quickly and at a cost proportionate to the threat. This is where beam-based anti-drone technology enters the picture. Broadly, such systems fall into two categories. Hard-kill systems use concentrated laser energy to physically damage or destroy a drone. Soft-kill systems, by contrast, use radio-frequency or electromagnetic energy to disrupt the electronic links that allow a drone to communicate, navigate and transmit information. Sophisticated Weaponry Hard-kill laser systems focus an intense beam of light on a vulnerable part of an incoming UAV - its carbon-fibre structure, control surfaces, battery or other critical components. The concentrated energy rapidly heats the target, potentially burning through its structure or disabling optical sensors and bringing the aircraft down. India’s DRDO has demonstrated a 30kW laser system, while Israel’s Rafael has developed the Lite Beam system. Soft-kill systems take a different route. Rather than physically destroying the aircraft, they interfere with the electronic architecture that keeps it airborne. Directional radio-frequency energy can disrupt command-and-control links, video feeds, telemetry and satellite-navigation signals such as GPS or other GNSS services. Depending on the drone and the nature of the disruption, the aircraft may be forced to land, return to its launch point or lose control. It is in this category that the T-SHUL BEAM system developed by Indian defence company IG Defence deserves attention. T-SHUL BEAM is a man-portable, directional counter-drone system designed for tactical deployment. Its multi-band radio-frequency architecture is intended to target several of the links on which unmanned aerial systems depend, including command-and-control, telemetry, video transmission and GNSS navigation. Its directional configuration allows an operator to concentrate electronic countermeasures on a particular aerial target rather than indiscriminately radiating energy across a large area. That matters on a battlefield where the warning time against a small UAV or first-person-view drone may be measured in seconds. The appeal of such a system is therefore not simply that it can counter a drone. It is that it can potentially bring counter-drone capability closer to the soldier and to the tactical edge. Large counter-UAS installations have their place, particularly around fixed and high-value assets. But forward units require systems that can move with them, be deployed rapidly and operate against small, low-cost unmanned platforms without imposing the logistical burden associated with conventional weapons. The T-SHUL BEAM’s significance also lies in its proposed integration with an artificial-intelligence-enabled battle-management architecture. IG Drones, the original equipment manufacturer, has stated that T-SHUL BEAM has been integrated with GRID, its indigenous AI-powered platform. The GRID architecture is intended to bring sensors, intelligence systems, unmanned platforms and command elements into a common operational framework. The attraction of such integration is obvious. Countering drones is increasingly less about a single weapon and more about the speed of the kill chain: detecting a threat, identifying it, deciding what response is appropriate and directing that response before the target disappears. An AI-enabled command architecture can potentially improve situational awareness, facilitate real-time threat detection and coordinate different systems operating simultaneously. This is particularly relevant as drone warfare evolves from isolated attacks towards increasingly complex and potentially swarming operations. A battlefield crowded with drones cannot be managed effectively if every sensor and weapon operates as a separate island. The advantage will increasingly belong to forces capable of turning disparate streams of information into a coherent picture and responding at machine speed. The T-SHUL BEAM’s reported demonstration at Pokhran represents another step in India’s attempt to build a domestic ecosystem spanning drones, counter-drones, artificial intelligence and electronic warfare. Counter-drone warfare is likely to be a recurring requirement rather than a niche capability. Importing every component of such an ecosystem would leave India vulnerable to supply-chain disruptions, technology restrictions and foreign-exchange pressures. Indigenous development, even when undertaken by relatively small private-sector companies, can broaden the country’s technological base and give the armed forces greater freedom to adapt systems to their operational requirements. Economics of the Contest Yet the real measure of any counter-drone system will ultimately be operational rather than promotional. Electronic warfare is inherently a contest between countermeasure and counter-countermeasure. Drone designers can alter frequencies, communications protocols, navigation methods and levels of autonomy. A system that is effective against one generation of drones may require modification against the next. The battlefield, in other words, will remain a technological arms race. The economics of the contest nevertheless favour directed-energy and electronic-warfare solutions. A conventional interceptor expends a missile or projectile against each target. A beam-based system can, subject to its power supply, engagement envelope and other operational constraints, engage targets without expending conventional ammunition. The marginal cost of an interception can consequently be dramatically lower. The beam also travels at effectively the speed of light, removing the flight time associated with kinetic interceptors. In densely populated areas or around sensitive infrastructure, bringing down a drone with a projectile can create its own hazards. Electronic disruption, when properly controlled, offers the possibility of neutralising the threat without sending an interceptor crashing back to earth. These advantages should not obscure the limitations. Soft-kill systems depend on the vulnerabilities of the target’s electronic architecture and may be less effective against increasingly autonomous drones that require fewer external communications. Weather, range, power availability, frequency management and the sophistication of an adversary's electronic countermeasures can all affect performance. No single technology is likely to provide a complete answer. The future of counter-drone warfare will therefore belong not to the beam alone but to layered defence combining. The emergence of systems such as T-SHUL BEAM suggests that India is beginning to build the technological pieces of that architecture at home. (The writer is a retired naval aviation officer and a defence and geopolitical analyst. Views personal.)

Rukmani’s Enduring Strength

Dr. Kailash Atkare

Mar 11

3 min read

In Nectar in a Sieve, Kamala Markandaya crafts a timeless portrait of rural womanhood, resilience and the human cost of change.

Even after International Women’s Day, works that illuminate women’s resilience remain worth revisiting. In Nectar in a Sieve, Kamala Markandaya creates a memorable portrait of Rukmani, a character shaped by strength, patience, and moral courage, all of which are forged in the context of poverty, patriarchy, and social change.

This post-colonial narrative follows Rukmani and her husband, Nathan, as they struggle to survive amid economic pressure, social upheaval and cultural change. Kamala Markandaya’s compassionate storytelling captures the dignity of the human spirit in harsh circumstances.

More than a rural tragedy, Nectar in a Sieve is a testament to resilience and a poignant reflection on alienation, modernisation and the human cost of economic change. Through Rukmani’s eyes, Markandaya paints a landscape of hope and despair, tradition and transformation.

The novel follows a simple chronological, episodic structure, blending everyday village life with larger socio-economic forces. Told in the first person, it draws readers into Rukmani’s emotional world, making them companions in her journey rather than distant observers.

Markandaya’s language mirrors rural life — simple, patient and rooted in natural imagery. Villages, monsoons, harvests and barren fields are not mere backdrops but active forces in the story. For Rukmani and Nathan, the land is more than a livelihood; it symbolises continuity, hope and belonging.

Rukmani’s life is marked by repeated loss — of children, land, stability and security — yet she endures with remarkable strength. Markandaya does not romanticise suffering. Hunger, disease, debt and social stigma weigh heavily, but the novel never slips into despair.

Its central message is resilience — not passive acceptance, but an active struggle to hope, work and preserve dignity. In Markandaya’s world, resilience is inseparable from the larger forces reshaping rural India. Rukmani’s private struggles unfold against a backdrop of economic transition, where the rhythms of agrarian life are steadily disrupted by industrial modernity and social dislocation. In this world, labour is more than survival; it is identity, pride and a moral anchor amid relentless change.

Tradition and Change

Markandaya wrote Nectar in a Sieve at a time of rapid change in India, as colonial rule ended and industrialisation began reshaping rural life. The novel captures the anxieties of this transition.

The arrival of the tannery symbolises that shift. It brings temporary work but also disrupts agrarian rhythms, weakens community bonds and erodes cultural continuity. For Rukmani, it represents both livelihood and loss, as the steady cycles of farming give way to uncertainty.

As poverty deepens, younger villagers move towards the town and tannery in search of work, reflecting a growing alienation from land, community and inherited ways of life. Yet Markandaya does not simply romanticise tradition. She recognises the necessity of change while mourning the fragmentation it brings.

Rukmani’s Resilience

Rukmani is remarkable not only for her resilience but also for the depth with which she represents rural womanhood. She embodies patience, empathy, strength and moral clarity. Her identity is shaped not only by her roles as wife and mother but also by her capacity to endure and adapt.

Markandaya is deeply aware of the burdens placed on women. Rukmani’s agency is constrained by patriarchal norms — her opinions are undervalued, her labour is taken for granted, and her body is tied to expectations of fertility and obedience.

The losses she endures, including the deaths of her children, reveal the gendered cruelty of poverty. Her daughter Ira’s exploitation and abandonment further expose the vulnerability of women in a changing society.

Yet Markandaya’s portrayal is never reductive. Through Rukmani and other women, the novel honours a quieter strength — emotional, moral and spiritual. Their worth lies not in dramatic heroism, but in enduring courage.

A Lasting Relevance

Nature, too, is deeply symbolic. Rain becomes a metaphor for life’s unpredictability, while crops, soil and seasons suggest continuity and hope. Drought and famine signify despair. Even the title, Nectar in a Sieve, reflects life’s fragile sweetness slipping away through pain and loss.

Though rooted in the Indian milieu, the novel transcends geography. Its themes — economic hardship, the clash between tradition and modernity, the dignity of labour and maternal endurance — resonate far beyond India. The rural-urban divide, migration and the erosion of cultural identity remain global concerns.

Markandaya offers no easy resolutions. Through Rukmani’s life, she reveals harsh truths about society and survival while affirming an unshakeable faith in human resilience.

In the days after International Women’s Day, Nectar in a Sieve remains a powerful reminder of women’s endurance. For contemporary readers, it is both a mirror and a lamp — reflecting social realities while illuminating the moral courage needed to endure. In an age of rapid change and widening inequality, Markandaya’s voice remains urgent, compassionate and deeply relevant.

(The writer is an assistant professor of English literature. Views personal.)

1 Comment

Amey Santre

May 20

One of my favourite novel ❤️