Celebrate I-Day and show us video proof: Yogi’s directive to madarsas

Thiruvananthapuram, Apr 23: Amid opposition charges, the Kerala government on Tuesday constituted a two-member committee to examine whether the privacy of personal and sensitive data of COVID-19 patients has been protected under the agreement entered by it with US-based IT firm Sprinklr.

The committee, headed by former Special IT Sscretary M Madhavan Nambiar and former health secretary Rajeev Sadanandan, will also ascertain whether adequate procedures were followed while finalising the arrangements with the private company.

The Opposition Congress has been levelling charges that the collection of data by the US firm violated the fundamental rights of the patients.

In its order, state government said it had initiated steps to set up a Data Analytics platform to integrate data from various sources available in the government to meet the "exigency of a massive and unprecedented surge of epidemic".

The committee will also examine whether deviations, if any, are fair, justified and reasonable considering the extraordinary and critical situation faced by the state, it said.

Meanwhile, the Kerala High Court on Tuesday asked the state government to file its reply by April 24 on a plea seeking to quash its contract with the US-based firm.

Expressing concern over the confidentiality of the citizen's data processed by a third party, the court sought to know why the sanction of the law department was not taken before finalising the agreement.

The court hailed the state government's fight against COVID-19, but said it is concerned about data confidentiality.

The government informed the court that the agreement with Sprinklr has safeguards for data protection "as per standard practices of software as a service model."

The ward-level committees, set up by the government for the anti-coronavirus fight, collect information of those under home isolation, the elderly and those at the risk of the disease, using a questionnaire and later uploads it on the server of the private agency.

Jun 5: Underworld don Dawood Ibrahim and his wife Mahzabeen have tested positive for COVID-19, a top government source told CNN News 18. They were admitted to the Army Hospital in Karachi.

Some of Dawood's personal staff and guards have also been quarantined, the report said on Friday.

Dawood was the mastermind of the 1993 Mumbai blasts and is one of the most-wanted gangsters by India. He has allegedly been living in Pakistan but the neighbouring country has always refusing to accept it.

Earlier in the day, a senior diplomat of the American embassy in Pakistan has tested positive for the novel coronavirus, a media report said.

In a statement, the embassy's spokesman said that while maintaining the privacy, the name of the citizen would not be disclosed.

The US State Department is responsible to protect its citizens, wherever they are, the spokesman added. In coordination with the Pakistani authorities, the consulate is working to enforce the coronavirus protocol in order to stem its spread. The spokesman added that isolation wards, contact tracing and quarantine facility are part of such protocols.

Meanwhile, Pakistan has 89,249 COVID-19 cases and the death toll is 1,838.

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.