Better to fight war with Pakistan than suffer daily: Ramdev

Kochi, Feb 29: When Major Abdul Rahim, a soldier in the Afghan army, died in a bomb blast in Kabul on February 19, a tear was shed for him in far away Ernakulam district of Kerala.

The major had received a transplant of hands from Eloor native T G Joseph back in 2015, and the latter’s family had grown attached to the Afghan soldier.

Maj. Abdul Rahim, a bomb disposal expert, had lost his hands in an explosion in 2012. For three years thereafter, he struggled with his handicap. Then, when 54-year-old Joseph passed away in a road accident, it was decided to give his hands to the Afghan major.

The transplant procedure was successfully performed by a team of doctors led by Dr. Subrahmania Iyer at the Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences in Kochi.

After the transplant and an intensive spell of physiotherapy, Abdul Rahim could regain a considerable part of his hands’ functions. He rejoined the army and returned to defuse bombs in his war-torn country.

In gratitude, Major Abdul Rahim would visit Kochi every year to meet Joseph’s family. 

“We were shocked to hear of the demise of Major Abdul Rahim. Though Joseph left us, a part of him lived on. Abdul Rahim was a living memorial for us. Whenever he came to the Amrita institute for a consultation, we used to visit him,” Joseph’s wife was quoted as saying by Mathrubhoomi daily.

Major Abdul Rahim struck up a good friendship with his predecessor, in a way of speaking: the first person to have had a successful hand transplant at the Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences. T R Manu became a close friend of the Afghan solider and kept regularly in touch.

New Delhi, Jul 10: Nepal has banned all Indian news channels, except DD News, for alleged propaganda against the country.

Reports say that Nepal cable operators have stopped getting signals of Indian news channels.

Nepal government spokesperson Yuvaraj Khatiwada said: "We request all not to disseminate news that infringes sovereignty and self-respect of Nepalis. This includes the media of neighbouring countries. We might seek both political and legal remedies."

Earlier, Nepal has amended its map which show some Indian territory as part of it.

Nepal's parliament on June 13 adopted unanimously the Constitution Amendment Bill, paving the way for accommodating the updated political-administrative map, which includes Indian areas of Kalapani, Lipulekh and Limpiyadhura, in its symbol.

Jan 13: For the first time in years, the government of India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi is playing defense. Protests have sprung up across the country against an amendment to India’s laws — which came into effect on Friday — that makes it easier for members of some religions to become citizens of India. The government claims this is simply an attempt to protect religious minorities in the Muslim-majority countries that border India; but protesters see it as the first step toward a formal repudiation of India’s constitutionally guaranteed secularism — and one that must be resisted.

Modi was re-elected prime minister last year with an enhanced majority; his hold over the country’s politics is absolute. The formal opposition is weak, discredited and disorganized. Yet, somehow, the anti-Citizenship Act protests have taken hold. No political party is behind them; they are generally arranged by student unions, neighborhood associations and the like.

Yet this aspect of their character is precisely what will worry Modi and his right-hand man, Home Minister Amit Shah. They know how to mock and delegitimize opposition parties with ruthless efficiency. Yet creating a narrative that paints large, flag-waving crowds as traitors is not quite that easy.

For that is how these protests look: large groups of young people, many carrying witty signs and the national flag. They meet and read the preamble to India’s Constitution, into which the promise of secularism was written in the 1970’s.

They carry photographs of the Constitution’s drafter, the Columbia University-trained economist and lawyer B. R. Ambedkar. These are not the mobs the government wanted. They hoped for angry Muslims rampaging through the streets of India’s cities, whom they could point to and say: “See? We must protect you from them.” But, in spite of sometimes brutal repression, the protests have largely been nonviolent.

One, in Shaheen Bagh in a Muslim-dominated sector of New Delhi, began simply as a set of local women in a square, armed with hot tea and blankets against the chill Delhi winter. It has now become the focal point of a very different sort of resistance than what the government expected. Nothing could cure the delusions of India’s Hindu middle class, trained to see India’s Muslims as dangerous threats, as effectively as a group of otherwise clearly apolitical women sipping sweet tea and sharing their fears and food with anyone who will listen.

Modi was re-elected less than a year ago; what could have changed in India since then? Not much, I suspect, in most places that voted for him and his party — particularly the vast rural hinterland of northern India. But urban India was also possibly never quite as content as electoral results suggested. India’s growth dipped below 5% in recent quarters; demand has crashed, and uncertainty about the future is widespread. Worse, the government’s response to the protests was clearly ill-judged. University campuses were attacked, in one case by the police and later by masked men almost certainly connected to the ruling party.

Protesters were harassed and detained with little cause. The courts seemed uninterested. And, slowly, anger began to grow on social media — not just on Twitter, but also on Instagram, previously the preserve of pretty bowls of salad. Instagram is the one social medium over which Modi’s party does not have a stranglehold; and it is where these protests, with their photogenic signs and flags, have found a natural home. As a result, people across urban India who would never previously have gone to a demonstration or a political rally have been slowly politicized.

India is, in fact, becoming more like a normal democracy. “Normal,” that is, for the 2020’s. Liberal democracies across the world are politically divided, often between more liberal urban centers and coasts, and angrier, “left-behind” hinterlands. Modi’s political secret was that he was that rare populist who could unite both the hopeful cities and the resentful countryside. Yet this once magic formula seems to have become ineffective. Five of India’s six largest cities are not ruled by Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party in any case — the financial hub of Mumbai changed hands recently. The BJP has set its sights on winning state elections in Delhi in a few weeks. Which way the capital’s voters will go is uncertain. But that itself is revealing — last year, Modi swept all seven parliamentary seats in Delhi.

In the end, the Citizenship Amendment Act is now law, the BJP might manage to win Delhi, and the protests might die down as the days get unmanageably hot and state repression increases. But urban India has put Modi on notice. His days of being India’s unifier are over: From now on, like all the other populists, he will have to keep one eye on the streets of his country’s cities.