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With the recent acquittal of former Delhi University Professor G.N. Saibaba after a torturous 10 years of imprisonment under the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA), we take a look at one of the most important tools in the market of India’s barely-there-democracy: the UAPA.

In the Athenian State of 621 BCE, lived a statesman named Draco. Draco prescribed death for all criminal offences. Laws that were written in blood, not ink. Think of the word ‘draconian’ named after this infamous statesman, but in the Indian context, and perhaps what comes to mind is the notorious Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) of 1967. 

Student activist Umar Khalid spent a total of three years behind bars in Tihar, with his bail pleas rejected consistently. The case moved from bench to bench. 84-year-old Stan Swamy, booked under the Bhima Koregaon case during his imprisonment, had asked for a sipper and straw in jail, citing Parkinson’s disease. It took the authorities a month to approve his request. On July 5, 2021, he passed away in jail, still awaiting trial. Journalist Siddique Kappan, on his way to cover the Hathras rape case, was arrested and detained similarly for a period of two years without trial. 

What brings these cases together is UAPA. Stringent conditions for bails (the accused will not be given bail if the first impression of the court is that they are guilty), the ability to declare an individual ‘terrorist’, and detention without producing any incriminating evidence have ensured the overturning of the precept of innocent before proven guilty. The investigating agencies are allowed to take up to 180 days even to file a chargesheet, which, in the case of Kappan, he claims to never even have received firsthand.

The process thus becomes the punishment. The asymmetrical power balance between citizen and state is clearly exploited to the citizen’s disadvantage. Dissecting the acquittal judgement of Professor G.N. Saibaba, Karen Gabriel, and PK Vijayan write for The Quint that the law comprises both the set of legislation that the state has to enact and uphold as well as the rules of procedure that the state must adhere to while doing so. They assert, “Procedure is an invaluable protective measure, not an incidental convenience.”

A Brief History

In the year 1967, the Indira Gandhi administration sought to bring out a law against the secessionist activities that the government observed in the country. The Parliament thus passed the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act. What initially emerged as legislation to counter the problem of secessionist tendencies, however, would quickly assume an altogether different colour. 

After the Prime Minister’s death and with the advent of the Punjab insurgency, the Terrorist and Disruptive Activities Prevention Act (TADA) was introduced. Criticised widely by human rights organisations for its arbitrary tendencies to centralise the onus of justice, it was later withdrawn. TADA trickled down in 2001 to POTA (the Prevention of Terrorism Act) in 2002, which met with concerns of misuse and was scrapped by the UPA government in 2004. The provisions of POTA, however, were in essence transferred onto the UAPA, which was the first introduction of anti-terrorism into the primarily anti-secessionist legislation. The central government could now overlook rules of evidence when it came to interception of communication and vested in its hands the power to declare any organisation as a terrorist organisation without trial. 

In 2008, the Act was further amended to include longer police custody, longer jail time, and harder bail provisions. The latest and most important amendment in 2019 empowered the NIA further and gave the government powers to declare individuals terrorists. 

But It Works, Right?

The hardlined stringency should then naturally warrant efficiency in curbing the “disturbances” that it claims to protect us from. The Home Ministry’s 2020 report, on the other hand, tells us that only 212 of the 24000 convicted in UAPA cases in 2016–2020 were found guilty. As Kappan puts it, “a conviction rate of less than 3%.”

Acquitting DU professor G. N. Saibaba, who has been in prison for 3600 days, the Bombay High Court noted:

No evidence has been led by the prosecution by any witness to any incident, attack, act of violence, or even evidence collected from some earlier scene of offence where a terrorist act has taken place, in order to connect the accused to such an act…

The court further stated that there had been an evident “failure in justice” in the flouting of mandatory provisions in Saibaba’s case. The appalling conditions of his imprisonment, along with those of many others, lead one to wonder whether the crushing impact that callous state persecution has on an individual’s life can ever be undone with mere acquittal. 

The persecution of intelligentsia, which asks difficult questions of institutions, is no new phenomenon. Considering, however, that as we function under that nimble concept of what is known to some of us as a democracy, the state would do well to clothe its atrocities better and be less conspicuous about them. The UAPA, with its in-your-face authoritarian tendencies, does not seem to be helping in that front. 

Read also: The Donkey Dance of UAPA: Criminalising Dissent in a Hollowing Democracy

Deevya Deo
[email protected]

The Department of Economics at Hindu College, Delhi University, conducted its annual fest, L’Economiste, on February 23, 2024. The fest included a speaker session by Mr. Vinod Rai and three competitions, namely, Potentate, Ranjan Roy Memorial Debate, and Hindu Stock Exchange.

L’Economiste 2024, the annual fest of the Department of Economics at Hindu College, was held on February 23, 2024, where economic insights, ideas, and solutions interacted with each other. The inauguration ceremony began with a melodious performance by Alankar, the Indian Music Society of Hindu College. The fest included an engaging and insightful speaker session by Mr. Vinod Rai, the 11th Comptroller and Auditor General of India, at 10:30 a.m. His brilliant sense of humour and intellect shone through his thought-provoking discussions on social auditing, electoral bonds, the vast field of economics, and his personal experiences as he reminisced about his time at Hindu College as a student.

 What are certain things in a person’s life? One is that they say death; everybody is going to die. The other is, what? I refer to it as paying tax. That’s also going to happen to you. The third is the day you were born.

 –  Remarked Mr. Vinod Rai.

A variety of competitions with exciting cash prizes were organised as a part of L’Economiste 2024. The Ranjan Roy Memorial Debate Competition, with debates centred around economic motions and a legacy of 10 years, was a test of both oratory skills and social science knowledge. “Panel, try to understand!” from St. Stephen’s College bagged the first position, with team “Mavericks” from Atma Ram Sanatan Dharma College being the first runner-up.

‘Potenate’, structured around World Economy and Politics, the second competition in this event, was a perfect amalgamation of auctions, negotiations, crises, and policy formulation. With deeply engaging and highly energetic bidding rounds, this competition offered the participants a policy discourse simulation. Team “Aces” from Hansraj College bagged the first prize, with team “Syndicates” from Ram Lal Anand College and team “Chocolate Cake” from SRCC bagging the first runner-up and second runner-up positions, respectively.

Lastly, the Hindu Stock Exchange offered participants, or rather traders, an opportunity to transport back to the 1990s stock market and indulge in a battle to get themselves declared as the best portfolio managers, cruising through one of the toughest stock market simulations.

“Utkarshharc” from Hansraj College bagged the first position, followed by “CB-sites” from Shaheed Sukhdev College of Business Studies and Tamanna Goel and Ujjwal Mittal from Kirori Mal College, begging for the first runner-up and second runner-up positions, respectively.

Rounding up, the flagship event provided in-depth financial global insights for ‘econ-enthusiasts’ and otherwise!

Read Also: Commemorating the Golden Jubilee of the Zoology Department: A Health Check-up Camp at SVC

Featured Image Credits: Himanshu Kumar for DU Beat

Gauri Garg

[email protected]

Beyond the heteronormative confines, let’s celebrate love that is real, joyful, innocent, and proud!

A student from Delhi University shares their love story—something that started off as a childhood crush, a relationship ended on unfinished terms, and a friendship that’s mature and understanding.

“So, as a kid, our family moved around a lot, so I was always the new kid that could never really make good friends as I wasn’t a conventional “girl.” I used to cut out pictures of Deepika Padukone from magazines, but obviously I was straight! The first boyfriend I ever had also turned out to be queer, so that was great. When I was in the 8th grade, our family moved to Orissa, and we lived in a corporate township. There was this girl with curly hair who soon became my benchmate. Since we lived pretty close to each other, bicycle rides, study sessions, and long conversations soon became the norm and blossomed into friendship. I started penning poems for her in my diary: “Her hair glistened in the sun,”  reminding myself of the fact that “I’m definitely straight.”.

Soon I realised that “kuch toh hai.” I don’t want to be just friends with her. I started justifying my identity too. The pandemic sort of gave me a sense of stability as well. I assured myself that “being a lesbian is valid.” After the lockdown, we started hanging out again. I used to call her up at night, asking her “homework samjhado.” She knew I had done the homework, yet she explained everything. One day I just called her (it was the 14th of July), and a cyclone was about to hit, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to meet up with her for some time. We met up, and I told her, “Oh, I think I’m gay,” and she said, “I think I’m gay too,” and we just cycled back to our homes. We met up again on the day of our SST exam. She said, “I’m not into girls,” and again, we cycled away. A couple of days later, she tells me, “I like you,” and again, we just cycle together. There is just a lot of delusion going on. Time passed by, and she was about to move out to go for JEE coaching. I knew I couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. So I just told her, “I like their pronouns.” We just cycled together again. We were having a 6th standard type of love story in the 11th standard. She finally moved away.”

(Trigger warning: s**cide.)

 “We started flirting over Whatsapp. She came back from the hostel, and we held hands and walked around; she was stable. My mom thinks, “She’s a very good friend.” Yes, a friend, with whom I used to spend hours in my room studying (making out). Thanks to my sister for always being there for me. Letting me “hang out” with my “friend” in my bedroom. My sister has always been my biggest support system. She used to always ask the barber to cut my hair just a little more. She bought me binders and fought for me to have even the little bit of freedom I could in my house. When I came out to her, she said, “I knew since the time you were simping over Deepika Padukone.” ! The second standard made me extremely s**cidal. Our parents started to question our sexuality. Her parents thought I was a bad influence on her. We were constantly pitted against each other. Family and academic pressure were extremely high. We broke up without even speaking to each other. I didn’t want to see her anymore. And we left on unfinished terms.”

“During our CUET exams, she came back. I saw her on the day of my first slot. Our eyes just locked together across the exam centre. My mom asked me to go say hi to her. I was extremely shocked, and I just stared at her. And I ran away; it seems like we were just always running away. On the second day of CUET, we met again. This time, we hugged each other and just bawled our eyes out. Then, we left things on unfinished terms again. After our CUET results, we were both getting into the same college, but her parents didn’t want her to go near me. They didn’t allow her to come to DU. We then called each other up. I guess we were much more mature then. We spoke to each other for hours and decided to end our relationship. She said how I should have always known she liked me back in school. “You were giving me gay panic back when we were bench-mates, and you used to run your fingers through my hair’, she said. We are still extremely good friends. I did love her first, and I guess I’ll always love her, but this is not a love story. We left things on unfinished terms so many times that we didn’t realise when our relationship became toxic. I guess I was always the red flag. But I just want to say that I’m much more confident, mature, and just a better human being now. We just grew up. We still sometimes flirt with each other. By the way, she’s in a relationship with someone now, and she constantly reminds me to stop flirting with her, but I guess old habits die young. She sends me origami swans, and I like to bind books, and I always do it for her. I once gifted her a hand-bound copy of “The Blue Umbrella,”  her favourite book, and that’s just our love language. I still love her. I always will. We sometimes joke about how, when we’re 50 and neither of us have wives, we will just marry each other. But again, just to reiterate, this is not a love story. I think it’s a story of friendship and support. Her, my sister, my friends in college now, my people—they are all my love.”

A student from Hindu College shares their journey of self-love, self-acceptance, and being loved.

 “I went through a lot of internal strife before even considering sharing this. You’ll realise why when I tell you who I am—a gray-romantic bisexual AFAB (she/they) dating a straight cis man.

Throughout my life, when I was aware of things like my romantic and sexual orientation, I’ve always been at odds with my feelings. It took me so much effort to come to terms with who I am—the constant question of, Am I straight? Am I gay? Or am I just seeking attention? coupled with the feeling that something’s wrong because, as much as I find men and women and envy people hot, I did not cry desperately like my friends did for love. I had no clue why I had to be bi when I didn’t feel the need for love only?! I sought validation in queer media and online queer spaces, where again I could relate to the struggles of being bi, the biphobia, etc., but my other half of the struggle was left unseen.

Then I met a friend who suggested the term “aromantic.” She identified me as Aro-ace, and yet again, I was torn—it seemed like I was an anomaly. My two halves would never be reconciled. I dehumanized myself and saw myself as some heartless monster who could never enjoy the beauty within people. I had come to terms with the fact that I would just not be able to relate to love; everybody is hot, and it is okay. I would get myself a cat, and I would be the single crazy cat lady forever.

That was until I met my partner. I am that extroverted person who can talk people’s ears off and yet not open up a single thing about herself. I had trauma growing up, and it created giant walls around myself, and because of my nature, very few people notice it and try to get past the walls.

It is safe to say that the people I let in just created more trauma for me. They saw me, but I never felt seen. And here comes this shy but playful boy, who saw me at one of my worst times, holding my hand and telling me, “It’s okay. You’re not a monster. You’re just another human who was let down by people who should’ve never done that in the first place. I promise that I’ll try my best not to join them.” For the first time in my life, I felt seen. I had not known what it’s like to feel love, but for me, that was it—to  be seen. To be understood. To be supported.

Now I smile whenever his text pops up on my screen. I love him with all my heart; he’s been nothing short of wonderful, caring, and supportive. I am happy and content with everything I have in my life. Then what’s the strife? Again, I’m a gray-ro-bi AFAB dating a straight cis man. Every word of that sentence is a plot twist. There aren’t days when I don’t feel like maybe I’ve just been lying to myself and everyone all along—that maybe I’m just a straight woman who might not have “found the right guy yet.” I thought I had defeated my internalised aro-phobia and biphobia long ago, but now I realise it’s never as simple as that. Queerness is never a static thing; it flows and does so in beautiful ways. I might feel like I’m a walking and talking contradiction and that I’m not queer enough to be in queer spaces. But those are just that—just feelings. I’m still gray-romantic, still bi. Still queer, and a loved one at that too.”

Dear reader, let’s not let “love” be restricted to an idea, romance, or mainstream holiday. I believe it’s a celebration, something we experience every day, and there’s love in our joys, our sorrows, our laughter, and our tears. Your love story is valid; it’s real, and it’s yours. Let there be love, and let there be light!

 Read Also: https://dubeat.com/2024/02/11/feminism-a-belief-or-a-tagline/

Featured Image Credits: Sukriti for DU Beat

Gauri Garg

[email protected]

The Bharat Literature Festival 2023, organized by Kirori Mal College in the most extravagant way possible, celebrated traditional Indian literature through engaging dialogues, debates, and readings. Eminent writers, scholars, lyricists, and government officials were part of the diverse lineup. While well-received, some criticised the event’s politicisation. 

The Bharat Literature Festival, organised by Kirori Mal College on November 28th and 29th, 2023, is a  LitFest that focuses on celebrating the diverse body of traditional Indian literature and facilitating engaging dialogues, literary debates, and celebratory readings. Over the course of the festival, scholars, writers, lyricists, poets, and renowned personalities from all walks of life were engaged in discourse about varying topics such as art, literature, culture, history, politics, and social issues. It went beyond its title as a literary event by housing art exhibitions, facilitating pertinent political discourse, and particularly attracting visiting students to the pursuit of the civil services with VisionIAS  as its Knowledge Partner.

Eminent public figures such as the Hon. Governor of Telangana, the commercially successful lyricist Prasoon Joshi, and Union Minister of Labour and Employment, Bhupendra Yadav, were invited too, amongst many, many more. It is indisputable that the line-up of scholars, experts, and esteemed speakers ranging from Indian cinema to Cabinet Ministers served as the major attraction for the fest. Students from across the University of Delhi flocked to the event to witness some of their favourite personalities share their insights on the central theme alongside issues that specifically pertained to the speaker’s field. Students were able to firsthand engage and interact with journalists, scriptwriters, historians, filmmakers, and lyricists. As the guests and speakers individually have their own publicity from the media, press, and fanbases, these speakers were able to cause an influx of visitors to the event too.

Other than providing a platform for these public figures, the fest even conducted a variety of competitions for students that included slam poetry, stand-up comedy, a photography contest, and a talent hunt—all of which were met with a sizable number of responses and registrations. The food stalls, youth activities, and musical evening incentivised even those who aren’t necessarily interested in literary discourse to participate in the fest.

I really liked the event, especially the different speakers that were called. A session that stood out for me was- “Cinema: The Reflection of Society.” Amit Rai, Chandraprakash Dwivedi, and Priyanka Shakti Thakur talked about how modern films disregard ethics to show what sells the most. It was quite an insightful talk.’

-A third-year student from Kirori Mal College who had attended both days of the event. 

Something that caught everyone’s attention was BLF’s attempt to encompass the diverse cultures of India. Speakers ranging from author Yadvinder Singh Sandhu from Punjab to Telangana’s governor, Dr. Tamilisai Soundararajan, blessed the event with their powerful words. Even the numerous stalls had books of various Indian languages, showing the level of richness the event tried to achieve

I enjoyed the talk by Dr. Sachchidanand Joshi Ji. I got a good perspective on the tussle between modernity and culture, how the two often don’t go along well.

– An attendee in reference to the session- “Sanskriti Aur Chunotiya – TV – Cinema – OTT.

However, this mega event was heavily criticised by student groups and had a lot of negative responses too. People raised questions about the politicisation involved and criticised it. Many students stayed anonymous or avoided sharing opinions because of the potential risks involved due to the involvement of college administration in the event.

I have attended literature festivals before, and this is not what a literature festival looks like. This was clearly right-wing propaganda.

-A critic of the event 

Few felt that the event was more of an attempt to push right-wing ideologies than focus on literature. They claim that the speakers called and the topics they talked about were clear signs of the political intentions of the events. 

Numerous criticisms about the festival surfaced online, with concerns focusing on the event’s agenda. Critics pointed out that the topics discussed, such as “Pranam Main Hindu Hun” and “Sanghe Shakti: Bharat @2047,” raised controversy due to their alignment with Hindutva ideologies. Some online discussions also highlighted the problematic stance of certain invited speakers who openly support the regime and have advocated for the genocide of Muslims in the past.

In addition to the ideological alignment, student groups disclosed, under anonymity, the kind of pressure the administration placed on members of various college societies about volunteerism and promotion. Students from many departments also brought attention to the abrupt disruption in their classes..  

Additionally, there were complaints about the lack of linguistic diversity, as most discussion titles were in Hindi, neglecting representation from North-East and South Indian literature. Critics argued that the event’s themes and titles seemed to align closely with the policies and marketing strategies of the ruling regime, further fueling online dissatisfaction. 

Featured Image Credits: @bharatliteraturefestival Instagram

Shireen Peter 

@[email protected]

Shatadru Sen

@[email protected]

Under the guise of the Bharat Literature Festival (BLF), there is a discernible attempt to spread Hindutva ideology in academics and on campus. With declining academic freedom, BLF appears to be a facet of the regime’s wider effort to systematically alter academic discourse and the college environment.

On November 28th and 29th, 2023, Kirori Mal College (KMC) hosted the Bharat Literature Festival (BLF), which drew severe criticism from college students. BLF, which “intends to connect the learnings of the complicated past with the hope & aspirations of a fascinating future,” organised its Litfest in partnership with KMC. Various renowned authors and journalists were invited for the discussions. However, the event drew more criticism as its itinerary was released, which included discussions regarding RSS and Hindutva. “Pranam Main Hindu Hun: Exploring Inner Hindutva in Popular Culture”, “Sanghe Shakti: Bharat @2047”, “Indian Continent in the Era of Prime Minister Narendra Modi”, etc. were among the topics discussed. Not only the topics, but several of the invited speakers openly support the regime and have called for the genocide of Muslims in the past. 

When viewed in the context of the government’s increasing influence on academic structures, courses, academic discourses, and crackdown on academicians critical of the government, such discussions and events in a central university college with the college as co-organisers highlight how BLF is not just a litfest but a part of a broader movement seeking to assert and disseminate Hindutva principles within the realms of academics.

The Academic Freedom Index (AFI) report, published by the Global Public Policy Institute, placed India in the bottom 30% of 179 countries in 2022, with a score of 0.38 out of 1. Down to Earth extracted the Academic Freedom Score of India and found out that, “The country’s freedom index score was high in the past, ranging from 0.60-0.70 between 1950 and 2012, except from 1974-1978, data showed.” The AFI report reads, “Around 2013, all aspects of academic freedom began to decline strongly, reinforced with Narendra Modi’s election as Prime Minister in 2014.”

TW// Mention of suicide

The suicide of Rohit Vermula, the arrest of Umar Khalid, Natasha Narwal, and many other students under UAPA for participating in anti-CAA protests, the increasing crackdown on Kashmiri students, and the recent controversy over a research paper by an Ashoka University professor titled ‘Democratic Backsliding in the World’s Largest Democracy’, which alleged voter suppression to favour Modi in the 2019 election, all highlight the country’s deteriorating academic freedom. 

All of this, when reviewed in the context of NEP and CUET implementation, points to a more concerning scenario. With the adoption of CUET, student population diversity has decreased, with the majority of students being affluent ‘apolitical’ CBSE students from the North Belt. This apolitical student group fails to understand and acknowledge the hidden politics behind these events, and they fall into the trap that gradually shapes their way of thinking in the direction the regime wants. 

On the condition of anonymity, a third-year KMC student stated, “A lot of my friends and classmates were there, posting stories about BLF.” They are the same folks that will go and discuss casteism, patriarchy, and Islamophobia in their events and discussions. This set of students only wants to talk about these topics in order to feel good about themselves and fall into the category of ‘Progressive Liberal DU Student,’ while failing to understand the real-life ramifications and implementations of the same.”  

In a message circulated in Whatsapp groups, the principal wrote, “During the event, I expect you to (i) Be very disciplined and well behaved, (ii) Be appropriately well dressed according to the theme of the festival…Please note that there is no change in the teaching schedule of the college.” In contrast, students reported disruptions and class cancellations as a result of classrooms being converted into visitor rest areas. A volunteer from the BFL organising committee spoke about the threats posed by the conveners of their college societies. A person said, “We had pressure from the administration, who threatened us. The context for that is hard to explain, but we are being heavily monitored.” 

Another thing to notice here is the indirect imposition of Hindi throughout the event. The majority of the discussion titles were in Hindi, and there was no representation of North-East and South Indian literature at the event. Not just the language, but even the titles, were linked to the regime’s policies and marketing strategies. “Mann ki Baat: Confluence of Policy and Communication in New India” and “Namami Gange” are a few examples.

While all of these are sufficient to understand that the BLF is more than simply a litfest, it also serves as a means of spreading Hindutva ideology and BJP politics. Events like these, as well as the government’s growing control over academics, limit academic freedom, further eroding it. The AFI report explains, “Pressure on institutional autonomy and campus integrity combined with constraints on academics’ freedom of expression is what distinguished India from other countries’ scores on the index. The attacks on academic freedom under Modi’s Hindu nationalist government were also possible due to the absence of a legal framework to protect academic freedom.” The report’s authors further called on higher education policymakers, university leaders, and research funders to promote academic freedom in their own academic institutions as well as abroad.” But until then, the only ways to tackle religious politics and prevent them from impacting colleges and universities are through critical study of such events, self-education, and civil disobedience.

Read Also: The Fear of Being Identified

Featured Image Credits: KMC Instagram Page(@kmcollegedelhi)

DU Beat

 

Good-byes are the hardest; even harder with our professors. But what do we do when we find ourselves amidst the ad-hoc crisis?

What does college life mean to us? Does it mean romanticizing the red-brick walls? Or does it mean romanticizing the kurta– tote bag- chai inner core? Whatever it means, it surely stands for something unique for each of us. However, amidst the beauty of this chaos, lies a hard feeling of being lost, a feeling that could only be felt as words fall short to describe it. But how did we land up to this position? Is it because of the cute little fights over lunch breaks or are those never-ending assignments to be blamed? To be fair here, I feel these are the memories we take along with us and the reason to feel lost has another story behind it.

When we transition from school to college, we bring along a bag full of expectations. Apart from to-be-realized life-long friendships, we do expect to find mentors and guides who would not just be limited to the pale-yellow walled classroom but would bring solace when life happens to us. However, what happens if the “academic universe” decides to take them away from you? What happens when you find yourself alone again? What happens when you get the guidance you yearned for only to realize it to exist for a short-run? This is what it feels when we encounter the issue of ad-hoc displacement.

Currently, the Delhi University (DU) is underway with hirings for permanent positions. According to a report by Indian Express, as of April 2023, 4500-5000 permanent positions were to be filled and by then 100-150 ad-hoc teachers were already displaced in the process. The interview process for filling of the permanent posts began in the later half of 2022.

To give you a jest of how these applications are processed; the interviews are taken by a selection committee. Under the University Grants Commission (UGC) Regulations, this committee comprises of the principal of the college; the chairperson of the college’s governing body, or their nominee; the head of the department in charge of the subject; two V-C nominees; two external subject matter experts; and, in the event that any other members of the selection committee do not fall into one of these categories, an academician representing the SC, ST, OBC, minority communities, women, or differently abled categories.

If we go by the text-book, everything looks clean. However, I find myself incapable of judging whether things are fair or not. Due to this paucity, I will only be presenting you all with facts and figures and perhaps the questions that loom in every corner of my mind.

Recently, the sociology department of Indraprastha College for Women (IPCW) went through a whirlpool when five ad-hoc professors of the department, who were teaching at the college since years, all of a sudden found themselves out of job as the list with (new) permanent teachers was released. In a similar fashion, a (former) ad-hoc teacher, Pankaj Sarma of Kirori Mal College, suddenly found himself jobless, though he gave his ten years to the institution.

Similarly, late Samarveer of Hindu College, died by suicide as told by his family member due to his sudden removal from his job. Samarveer was an ad-hoc professor in the Philosophy department of the college. You name a college and this is the same story spinning everywhere.

To pin point here, if you get a sudden news that your professor resigned, it could either be that they finally understood what is about to unfold and voluntarily resigned or they met their fates of getting displaced. As sad as this reality would sound, this is what has been happening in the institution that is supposed to nurture the next-generation leaders, changemakers, and thinkers.

Even though I try to reel out of the pain of losing a mentor who not just guided me through the dreadful semester exams but showed me what I am capable of, what more I can achieve, and how much more power is to be realized as we move ahead in our lives, I stand dejected to know that my guiding light may have lost their shine. Though I know they are better-off and a place like this may not deserve them but I also know how blessed the students were to have a person like them in their lives. No words could give anyone a “job-security,” especially for a job they love. But as I come to the end, I could only hope to meet them again, perhaps while discussing our next adventure together.

Read Also: Social Media Vilification of Nerd Archetype

Featured Image Credits: The Quint

Ankita Baidya

[email protected]

 

Against the background of an ongoing onslaught on the University’s gender-minority colleges, we seek to explore what it means to exist in DU’s so-called ‘safe spaces’ and why any threat to their sanctity must be dealt with the gravity of an ‘invasion’.

Introducing yourself as the student of a women’s college is an act that elicits a wide range of responses. From blatant objectification of yourself and your peers as ‘dream girlfriend material’ to feigned concerns about how the institutional absence of men is hindering your ‘holistic’ development, it is evident that gender-minority spaces are no safe haven from patriarchy. If anything, patriarchy operates in covert ways within and outside the walls of these institutions.

Beyond sexist stereotyping and disparaging remarks, it manifests as the very real and physical threat of gender-based violence, of which these students often become primary targets. As our campus witnesses a rise in public displays of male entitlement and territorial chauvinism, it is imperative that we learn to contextualise these incidents and understand that no violation of a safe space happens in isolation.

Before delving into the subject of gender-minority spaces and what threatens them, it is crucial to understand what these spaces symbolise for their students in the first place. The very need for exclusive spaces for women and gender minorities points to a history of sexual violence that has endangered these groups for simply existing in public. Delhi itself hosts the track record of being one of the most unsafe metropolitan cities for women in the country, with the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) recording 14,277 registered cases of crimes against women in the Union Territory in 2021 alone. The fear of violence is thus statistically backed up and deeply embedded in the collective psyche of gender-minority groups, who are forced to live much of their lives on ‘survival mode’.

In the midst of an overwhelming threat to life and autonomy, gender-minority spaces emerge as a cocoon of safety for historically marginalised groups. Hence, Priya Agrawal, a student of the Indraprastha College for Women (IPCW), Delhi University’s (DU) oldest women’s college established in 1924, comments,

There is a reason why our parents and relatives feel very comfortable with the fact that their daughter is in an all-girls’ college. They feel that she’ll be safe there.

In fact, this dichotomy between unsafe public spaces and the safe space of gender-minority colleges is epitomised by the daily experience of commuting to the latter. Any student of these institutions is all too familiar with the sense of relief that rushes over you as soon as you step inside your college gates and are no longer bound to check the length of your skirt or feel the gaze of a man staring down your chest. As Sobhana, a student of Miranda House, relates,

The journey from my house in Vijayanagar to the Miranda House campus, which is no longer than 3 minutes by rickshaw or 10 if you walk, gives me more trauma and catcalls than the entire day I spend on campus.

It is apparent why, despite the conflictual nature of the inner workings of these colleges, they hold sanctity as a form of ‘private space in public’ universities (to borrow author Shelly Tara’s idiom, who used it originally in the context of women-only coaches on the Delhi Metro).

All of this is not to paint gender-minority colleges as infallible institutions above any and all forms of discrimination. Caste, class, religion, queerness, and other social cleavages dictate the inner anatomy of these institutions, and indeed, the very notion of a ‘safe space’ comes to be contested in the face of social hierarchies and exclusionary cliques. Any sense of safety is accorded on the basis of privilege and it is crucial that we keep this intersectional standpoint at the back of our minds while examining the remainder of this issue.

So, it is not the case that DU’s gender-minority colleges represent some sort of progressive, feminist utopia, but more so that they unite students under the banner of shared experience and solidarity against patriarchal injustice. Payal Krishnan, an LSR alumna from the batch of 1996, says,

Even in a women’s institution, you would routinely face instances of internalised misogyny and homophobia, and it takes time and dedicated efforts to shatter. Just stepping inside a women’s institution doesn’t automatically make you a certain way. But luckily, we always had people come out in support of individuals and communities which were discriminated against, and that unwavering support and dedication towards creating a safe space is what mattered.

Despite the numerous problems that permeate such institutions, she speaks of a “culture of cooperation, respect, and holistic growth” and concludes, “There is power in the collective.” This power—this collective front put up against the omnipresent violence of gender norms—is what poses an existential threat to patriarchy. While it is not within the scope of this article to delve into the rich history of these colleges, it is true that dominant society has always felt a sense of unease in the presence of such highly-educated and liberated women. Whether it be the 1990s matrimonial ads declaring ‘Girls from JNU, LSR or Miranda House need not apply’ or the aforementioned judgemental remarks, the autonomy of gender-minority spaces has always existed as an open challenge to the hetero-patriarchal foundations of our society.

Perhaps it is this challenge, this daring not to conform, that has resulted in the repeated targeting of these spaces and attempts to infringe upon their boundaries. Case in point is that of the recent DUSU election campaigning rallies that have barged into women-only campuses, but also of much earlier incidents, such as the 2020 Gargi College fest, the 2022 Miranda House Diwali mela, and the 2023 IPCW fest. It is evident that these are not isolated incidents but rather a pattern of invasions that legitimises male entitlement to spaces clearly not meant for them. Even relatively normalised behaviours, such as men deliberately hanging around outside women’s college gates, are not to be dismissed either, since they form the root of this very patriarchal problem of ‘space and who occupies it’.

The cases of women’s college fests being invaded by men are some of the most publicized events within this scenario. These incidents, which become grounds for rampant sexual harassment in the form of catcalling, groping, and unwanted advances, and actively put the students’ safety at risk, have been meticulously covered by national media houses as well. What is often left out of the conversation, however, is the aftermath of such events. Sharing her traumatic experience during the IPCW fest invasion and how that permanently changed her perception of the college environment, one student relates,

The purity of the place was gone for me. I did not go to college for 1-2 weeks straight because there were many protests, but also because I didn’t feel like it. Many of my friends didn’t go either. Even months after, as soon as we’d enter, we’d get flashbacks from that night.

It should be made clear then that men climbing walls and trying to barge into gender-minority spaces are not a case of them doing just that. These are incidents that reinstate the fear of violence and re-establish the norm of male proprietorship over women and gender minorities. They serve as a painful reminder to the latter that no space that they construct with love and care for themselves is truly theirs forever. It is forever dangling under the threat of patriarchal violence and could be overcome, at any moment, by the ever-destructive male ego. As the above-quoted IPCW student went on to share,

Even after all this went down, people still don’t realise that this was not about a college having a concert, where people simply climbed the walls and chaos and stampede happened. No, it’s not about that. It’s about men trying to enter the space of women, trying to harass us in our own spaces, and telling us, ‘We can come here too; what will you do about it? Your administration is not going to help you out either.

Indeed, it is only within this context that one can begin to understand the visceral reaction of gender-minority students against their spaces being invaded. Recently, when the political rallies for the DUSU 2023 elections barged into Aditi Mahavidyalya and Miranda House, students of both colleges were quick to label these as ‘invasions’ and expressed dissent against them. Unfortunately, they were dismissed under the claim that such hooliganism is just ‘part and parcel’ of the DUSU election fever. Such statements, that ring too close to the common adage of ‘boys will be boys’, fundamentally fail to understand the sanctity that safe spaces hold for gender minorities and the reason why they might get so protective about them.

It is no far-fetched remark to also suggest that the way elections season has panned out over the past month in DU has been nothing but a display of power under patriarchy. Yes, money and muscle power reign supreme in this University’s (and by large, the country’s) electoral politics, but must we be so quick to accept that as the norm, as students and conscious voters? Must we allow our gender-minority spaces to be violated for the sake of more noise and pamphlet-litter? Of course, one also wonders why it is always the same political outfits, like ABVP and NSUI, that choose to engage in this chauvinist brand of student politics. Perhaps, someone will tell us to quietly accept that just as boys will be boys, ABVP and NSUI too will be ABVP and NSUI.

Ultimately, what matters, however, is the safety of our spaces. One of the most disheartening outcomes is always the immediate reaction of administrative authorities, who seem quicker to police the gender-minority students than take action against the perpetrators. Whether it be barbed wire being put up on college walls or student protestors being detained before the men who invaded IPCW, the question of who will protect our safe spaces remains unanswered.

Read also: The Invasion of IPCW – A Student’s Account

Featured Image Credits: Anshika for DU Beat

Sanika Singh
[email protected]

TW// Misogyny, casteist slurs

You may have heard the line “Hamare ghar mai toh ye ladka-ladki ke beech bhedbhav or caste wagera ka kuch nahi hota,” in discussions based on gender and caste-based discrimination. Slowly, we all start labelling ourselves and our homes as “progressive”. So, let’s decode “our progressive homes.”

One of my favourite parts about Delhi University (DU) is the availability of safe (debatable) spaces for discussions or events based on the subject of gender and caste. Dialogues over gendered or caste-based division of employment, as well as discrimination in public settings, are held often. If you attend such gatherings, you may have heard comments like, “hamare ghar mai toh papa bhi help karte hai”, “Mere ghar mai toh caste wagera ki baat hi nahi hoti thi”, and so on. Soon, a large portion of the audience begins to agree with these views and begin to label their homes or families as forward thinking. But are our homes truly progressive?

One thing that I started to notice recently in these discussions is this distorted line of equality. 

“Mere ghar mai essa nahi hota, mummy khana banati, and papa hi sabzi wagera kaat dete.” Patriarchy is so deeply ingrained in our society, particularly in our homes, that even a slight shift in the notion of, “Aadmi kamaega and aurte ghar ka kaam karegi” (Men will earn and women will do household chores) makes us progressive and blocks us from challenging the ever persistent patriarchal roles in our homes. Does the gender-based division of labour vanish if men partake in household chores? Is this what we mean by an equal work division, at home? Will the men in one’s household perform all of those, “acts of help” in front of relatives or guests? One of the most important things to realise is that we are too quick to label ourselves as open-minded. Help is not the same as work. A working woman is expected to undertake household chores, but if men help even a little, it’s as though the foundations of patriarchy have shattered. Why are domestic tasks the responsibility of women if the house belongs to both?

To quickly understand gendered division of labour and how help is not the same as equal work division, here is a part of an extract from a document by the ILO International Training Centre, Module on Gender, Poverty and Employment– “The way work is divided between men and women according to their gender roles is usually referred to as the ‘gender division of labour’. This does not necessarily concern only paid employment, but more generally the work, tasks and responsibilities that are assigned to women and men in their daily lives, and which may, on their turn, also determine certain patterns in the labour market.”

A person, when asked about the division of labour in his house, told me that they have a maid in his house since both of his parents work. As a result, no such patriarchal standards exist. It’s amusing how people perceive gender issues as a separate entity while completely ignoring the caste and class aspect that intersect with the former. This gendered division of labour, in which women are often underpaid, is fueled by patriarchy. 

“3000 milte hai 1 ghar se. 2 ghar mai kaam karti hu 5-5 ghante”

A maid who works in the houses of Malka Ganj.

Liberation from patriarchy for the upper class involves exploitation of the lower class. 6,000 for a 30-day interval, 10 hours of work per day. Would you choose a job where your salary for a 10-hour shift is the same? The sad reality is that most of the so-called “safe and progressive spaces” in DU are dominated by upper-class and upper-caste individuals who typically describe themselves as centrist or apolitical. They fail to look outside of their own narrow bubble, which limits their knowledge on these issues. 

Another part from the extract from the ILO document reads- “In the context of gender, horizontal segregation refers to the extent to which men and women are located in different occupational sectors. Women are usually highly concentrated in the sectors that require lesser skills (e.g. agriculture), that promise little chance for career advancements (e.g. services) and that are related to care-giving (e.g.: nursing), which often coincide also with low wages. On the other hand, vertical segregation refers to the extent to which men and women occupy different hierarchical positions within the same occupational sector. Within the same sector, women tend to occupy the lower ranks of the hierarchical ladder (and consequently the lower salary ranges).”

While “help” is categorised as “progressive” in the case of patriarchy, “not talking about caste” is termed “progressive” in the case of casteism. You may have heard claims from critics of reservations that they were unaware of caste prior to their entrance exams. They think that casteism is a thing of the past while turning a blind eye to the way it prevails in everyday life. They fail to notice how their parents have domestic staff sit on the floor while they sit up and how they are made to  use different utensils to eat or drink tea. Beyond households too, the use of casteist slurs like chappri, bhangi, etc normalises them. Taking pride in one’s caste is also a way of propagating casteism in everyday life.

The majority of us, the so-called liberal progressive people who take part in these conversations, come from privileged backgrounds. The majority of our discussion on gender issues within the four walls of class comes from a second or third-person perspective. One wasn’t aware of caste since one didn’t have to regularly experience such discrimination as privilege always acted as a line of defence. In college, we slowly attempt to comprehend these problems, while remaining well within the boundaries of our privilege. We fail to cross those boundaries and understand these issues. 

We must not be blinded by our privilege and attempt to empathise with the lived experiences of other individuals, and consider how caste, class, and gender all interact with one another in various ways. The only way to truly understand these issues is to recognise intersectionality. Along with this, claiming to be “apolitical” or “centrist” will not be of any help, as politics is deeply rooted in society. 

Thus, the next time you describe yourself or your homes as “progressive”, stop and consider if this is actually the case or if structured patriarchy and casteism have masked the true meaning of the word.

Featured image credits: Hindustan Times

Read Also: Conditioned By Patriarchy 

Dhruv Bhati

[email protected]

 

There is a distinct enthusiasm and fascination for the Civil Services entrance exam among the Indian Youth. Despite the slim chances of passing the three-level test, nearly 100,000 people from all over India sit for this exceedingly competitive exam each year. Let us decode this hype of UPSC through the perspectives of students. 

The craze for the UPSC is nothing new in our country, it’s something we’ve all seen but never given much thought to. We all have friends, family, and neighbours who occasionally encourage us to consider this field as a career option. Or, we have all probably seen viral clips on social media of officers performing their regular duties while a catchy sound or patriotic song is added, giving the image of the officer a completely different tone.

Delhi is known as the pilgrimage to prepare for such government exams. A large proportion of Delhi University students are UPSC applicants, with many having passed the exam and currently working in this profession. Being a student at Delhi University, I’ve encountered a lot of students who choose to complete their graduate degrees in the capital in order to simultaneously prepare for this exam.

Simply visiting Old Rajinder Nagar or Mukherjee Nagar, one might experience this atmosphere of stress. Here everyone from rickshaw drivers to tea vendors, teachers, learners, and residents are invested in this exam. From current affairs magazines hoarded in stalls to coaching centres claiming to have guided the rank holders. Aspirants’ rooms are set up with world maps, LBSNAA posters and sticky notes with capsule notes to memorise. The day seems to go on forever here. Some aspirants get up at four in the morning to study, while others stay up till the dawn. It’s popularly said that “UPSC is a marathon, not a sprint.” This determination of aspirants can be witnessed in such places.

After leaving my hometown for greater prospects in Delhi, I’ve dealt with the passive pressure to take the exam, and many others, like me, develop the same sense of insecurity that they will miss out on something amazing if they don’t sit for UPSC once in their lives. Many young people are motivated to apply for jobs in the government by both – the exam and the personality of the officers. I personally witnessed this during the first week of my college, when a well-known civil servant was brought to our institution and the auditorium was packed with young students; it was crowded, but the students were willing to sit on the floor only to hear the officer speak. This officer had just passed the exam two years before, and she had only just begun her actual journey, but she was already a star in the eyes of these young brains yearning to hear her views. It was like seeing a swarm of admirers adoring their favorite movie star; such is the allure of a civil servant.

We learnt from our conversations with students across Delhi that they view the job profile of a public servant as very dynamic. With the added benefits of being a government officer, a well-respected position in society, and the appreciation and love one gets after passing the exam as something many people desire. Many students nevertheless hold the view that what genuinely drives them is the chance to work at the grassroots level and the ability to change the world.

Before profession, the process itself makes most of the individuals disciplined, hardworking, diligent and responsible which then reflects in the work they do on field. The study for this exam is such that it gives you knowledge important to understand the working of the society and in turn makes you a well-informed citizens. The position demands a lot of responsibility from the individual which keeps him/her committed to the work.” – A graduate from Hansraj College, DU.

An aspirant from Jamia Milia Islamia adds,

I’ve analysed my skill-set and I hope to make an informed decision of going into the services and using them to the best of my ability. Apart from that, a will to give back to society in whichever way possible and the perks of a government job do not hurt the goal as well.”

One of the main reasons why the exam is so popular and hence favoured by students is that they believe the administrative positions thus offer exceptional benefits, as well as respect and plenty of possibility for advancement.

Even though thousands of students prepare for the exam each year, not all of them excel. The success rate for UPSC is less than 1%. The harsh competition makes it difficult to place everyone where they want to be, despite the fact that people may have ambitious goals. This is the reality of numerous competitive exams in India. The exam offers a certain number of attempts to the candidates, which is also dependent on their age and category. For the Civil Services, on an average, it takes candidates more than two years to pass the exam, or roughly three to four attempts to raise their chance of being chosen. There is a peculiar fascination to this exam even when only a small percentage is chosen. Many students simply ‘appear’ for the exam for the experience, but the pressure it produces is difficult to overcome

According to a Byjus study,

Among lakhs of candidates appearing for the exam, only a few thousand are serious about this exam, and we can roughly keep the number of serious candidates as 45,000.”

While students may be driven to work in administration, the quality of their preparation determines their success, therefore there is a fine line between those who dream of the UPSC and those who actually aim for it.

Taking career risks is still uncommon in our nation, where individuals prioritise employment security, rewarding careers, and recognition. In this atmosphere where a well-established career is valued, it’s surprising to see how students take multiple drops to try their luck again.

However, one cannot completely dismiss the other reasons why flocks of students prepare for the exam. It is also a sad reality that societal expectations and familial pressure influence the bulk of students’ decisions, with UPSC contributing a part in it. Schools and colleges sell the dream of UPSC to students without properly analysing the child’s interests. While many students wish to take this exam, some believe that even if their family influenced their decision, they finally came to like it. Among these two groups, we must not overlook individuals who are compelled to pursue UPSC as a career option without identifying what the work actually entails.

Once you tell your relatives that you’re preparing for UPSC, the respect for you shoots up but so do the expectations. This is because of the public image of the job. A common person can’t see the prime minister or Elon musk for that matter, but they’ve definitely been close to the DM or SDM of their area and saw their might. People believe what they can see.”– A student from Hindu College, DU.

We are bombarded with success and failure stories every year after UPSC results are declared. What stays hidden from us is that many people might clear the exam but are conflicted about whether they like their job or not. Not all successful candidates are happy and satisfied with their jobs. This field provides a lot of benefits, but it does not guarantee a happy and comfortable life for all. The actual groundwork necessitates a significant amount of strength, patience, and sacrifice, for which many students are unprepared.

Although social media has let us have a glimpse into their life, it has certainly made us glorify them and make them our staunch ideals. In this regard, we often forget that each person’s experience and journey would be different and while something may work for them, it may not work for another aspirant.”

The buzz around this exam is enormous, it is justified given the power and perks involved. Yet, Not every other bright child around is meant to sit for this exam. Along with money and fame, a person’s interests, personality, and, most importantly, how they intend to live their life are all crucial variables to consider while choosing a profession.

The Civil Services is a choice that students can make at any time, after assessing one’s own flaws and skills. However, there is no harm in exploring other viable options first. Students, particularly in places like Delhi, have a plethora of chances and experiences that can help them create a career in academia and business. Along with it, we are transitioning to a world where active learning and the development of diverse skills are given preference more. College-level students have the opportunity to study many areas of knowledge, hone their talents, adopt a growth mindset, and encourage creativity in their ideas. This can be Young India’s strength.

The appeal of ‘sarkari naukari’ persists in our country and many people still lack the freedom to pursue careers of their own choice. Yet, it’s critical to fully comprehend the requirements of any given exam and career before determining whether you are a good fit for it and whether the exam is a good fit for you.

Read Alsohttps://dubeat.com/2018/09/26/are-universities-culpable-of-glorifying-the-indian-civil-services-as-the-only-viable-career/

Featured Image Credits – Google images

Priya Agrawal

Kegs, ragers at frats, plush campuses, a perfectly disheveled middle-aged professor to swoon over, boys-every 2000s film depicting the typical college life had these staples, so one can imagine the shock of then landing up in Indian public university and realizing that the aforementioned may have all been too good to be true.

Shows like the Sex Life of College Girls created unmatchable expectations of a college life bustling with enthusiasm, but the reality was disappointing. I entered DU, with crumbling infrastructure, disinterested faculty, and well, an all-girls college. The plush campuses were mostly replaced by an uncomfortably warm metro and auto ride, wading through the crowds of white collar workers. Moreover, the Western college myth perpetuated this idea of a constant sense of community and complete freedom, but this seemed false too.

In Delhi, most friends are scattered across the city, frequently occupying paying guest accommodations or hostels, so the idea of a shared dorm already goes out the window. Furthermore, a really important myth was of course, that of complete and utter freedom, from family and from parents. Most hostels or student housing, have curfews or restrictions to leave during certain hours. Moreover, these restrictions seem to be applied more harshly against women, sometimes understandably (Delhi is one of the unsafest cities in the world) but almost always unfairly. The infamous scenes of jungle juice at frat parties and sorority rushes are closely equated to DU fests, however, in recent years, they’ve become extremely unsafe, with reports of women’s colleges’ fests being attacked, tales of harassment but right-wing student parties etc.

This isn’t an attack on DU, but rather a sense of dissonance created by exposure to Western Media which glosses over the harsh realities, probably faced by most students in South Asian public universities, like that of finances. American uni experiences conveniently escape the discourse on student debt, how a lot of the glamor is usually resting on an exorbitantly high tuition fee, perhaps a tenth of what we pay at state school. Nevertheless, the difficulties of living on allowances, budgeting are often not depicted, while there is some justification that most of these are fictional accounts, they create unhealthy expectations of college life.

Finally, between all the binge-drinking and night outs, movies also fail to depict the loneliness of college, which for many of us is the first time living away from home. The difficulties adjusting to new people, finding friends, and really learning how to exist as an adult, make it less of a four year party, and more of life experience, with its fair share of highs and lows.

Image Credits: Movies Universe
Chaharika Uppal
[email protected]