M M Akbar arrested in Hyderabad en-route to Qatar; likely to be grilled by Kerala police

Mangaluru, Feb 2: A local court on Saturday remanded Aditya Rao,the suspect in the Mangaluru International Airport (MIA) bomb case, to two weeks judicial custody.

Rao was produced before the Sixth Judicial First Class Magistrate Court after the 10-day police custody expired.

Rao has been in police custody since January 22 after he surrendered before the police in Bengaluru on January 21 and was later brought here.

He had allegedly planted an Improvised Explosive Device (IED) at the airport on January 20 triggering panic and later made a hoax call to the airport terminal that a bomb had been planted in an IndiGo flight.

During the last ten days, police took the accused to several places in the city and Udupi where he had frequented in the recent past.

He was also taken to the room where he stayed while he was working at a hotel in the city.

Kasaragod, Apr 19: Kasaragod, Kerala's COVID-19 hotspot, is the only district in the southern state lacking adequate health infrastructure.

In spite of treating the highest number of COVID-19 patients in the state with meagre infrastructural facilities and even without the support of a medical college in the north Kerala district, no deaths have been reported due to coronavirus.

The state health department views the performance of M Kunhiraman and his team, consisting of Janardhana Naik and Krishna Naik, at the General hospital in Kasaragod as a success story.

"Not only did they control the situation quickly with minimum infrastructure, they also started turning out a large number of negative cases within a few weeks and creditably ensured zero mortality.

This can be showcased as a best global model," Chairman of the Information Education and Communication (IEC) Committee and Project Director Kerala State Aids Control Society, R Ramesh said.

Recalling the ordeal, Janardhana Naik said his first major challenge was the physical examination of a patient with suspected COVID-19.

"Even with the PPE kit, nobody knew how effective they were and it took a whole 30 minutes to wear them properly.

But as time passed, we got accustomed to it," he said.

The traditional method of dealing with a patient involved knowing his or her history, observation and physical examination.

For hundreds of years, the hands-on body approach has been the soul of the doctor-patient relationship -- taking the pulse, tapping on and listening to the chest, feeling lumps.

With the onset of COVID-19 all that has changed.

"In fact, the whole exercise was fraught with grave risks because everything connected with COVID-19 was new.

Doctors have to keep a distance even though the physical examination wearing a Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) is difficult.

Sounds from the body are inaudible, vision is blurred through the smog-covered goggles and a stethoscope seldom has any use," Janardhana Naik said.

It was from March 15 that the hospital started receiving COVID-19 patients, primarily from Dubai.

By the time the first person came, the hospital was ready for him.

Soon, patient numbers began to swell and in a couple of weeks they reached about 91.

From then on, it was teamwork.

Committees were formed for each and every task, including the help desk, IT, treatment, medical board, training, food, waste disposal and data maintenance.

Initially, patients had many misgivings about the hospital.

"Some were disillusioned and even aggressive. Some were not happy with the facilities the hospital had to offer.

But gradually through good treatment and counselling by a psychiatrist, who visited the hospital on alternate days, the confidence and mood of the patients changed and they became friendly with the staff," Naik elaborated.

Counselling was also given to the concerned family members of the patients.

Besides treatment, the medical staff had to spend a considerable amount of time clearing the doubts of patients.

When they got discharged some patients insisted on seeing the faces of the medical staff, who till then were anonymous entities covered from head to toe.

Some even wanted to take selfies with them.

However, the medical team politely turned down their requests and preferred to remain hidden in their work attires.

The mood of the patients also rubbed off on the doctors and hospital staff.

All the physicians and hospital staff are now more confident of dealing with contagious diseases after treating COVID-19 patients.

"Our previous experience of treating H1N1, Chikungunya and Dengue cases helped us a lot.

Words of encouragement from the Health Minister K K Shailaja, Health Principal Secretary Dr Rajan N Khobragade and Health Services Director Dr Sarita R L gave us the impetus to build up confidence.

Moreover, the field health workers did a wonderful job in containing the viral spread," Naik added.

As the number of coronavirus cases rose, the state government on April 5 deputed a 26-member medical team from Thiruvananthapuram to set up a COVID-19 hospital in the district.

They turned a block of the under construction Government Medical College as a hospital-like facility, setting up a 200 bed facility to treat coronavirus patients.

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.