(MENAFN- Kashmir Observer)
Representational Photo
The Omar Abdullah-led National conference (NC) coalition government, which completed its first month in office on November 18, has played up among its achievements the resolutions calling for the restoration of the special constitutional status and the statehood respectively. On November 6, the Jammu and Kashmir Legislative Assembly passed a resolution urging the central government to engage with J&K representatives to restore the special status that was revoked on August 5, 2019. The resolution, introduced by Deputy Chief Minister Surinder Choudhary, reasserted the significance of the former special provisions, stressing their role in preserving the region's identity, culture, and rights. It, however, highlighted that any discussions on restoration should balance national unity with the legitimate aspirations of the people of Jammu and Kashmir.
Earlier on October 18, the cabinet passed a resolution urging the central government to restore statehood for the union territory. Following day, Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha cleared the resolution. The Chief Minister Omar Abdullah traveled to New Delhi to handover the draft of the resolution to the Prime Minister Narendra Modi and urged him to reinstate statehood as it existed before August 4, 2019.
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Among other achievements, the ruling party has also outlined the restoration of the annual exam session for Class 1-9 back to November and the relaxation in age eligibility to youth for applying for government jobs. All these moves are a part of the NC's manifesto and by moving fast on them the party has tried to signal the seriousness of its intent to live up to the document. However, it is also true that J&K being a union territory, a ruling party has little power to realize all of its political and governance agenda. More so, when it is as ambitious as the reinstatement of the special status and the statehood, botb of which are within the jurisdiction of the national government. However, this is not to detract from the significance of the two resolutions. They certainly have a certain symbolism attached to them, and reflect the broad public opinion. And as for statehood, the centre is believed to be favourably disposed towards restoring it. The CM too has claimed to have had very positive meetings with the PM Modi and the home minister Amit Shah to this end.
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Going forward, the people of the union territory face pressing governance challenges that demand immediate attention. Employment opportunities in the region remain scarce, particularly for the youth, who are bearing the brunt of limited job prospects. Additionally, as winter approaches, the region faces a yearly struggle with power shortages. Given the formidable nature of these challenges, it is time that the government gets down to the hard business of governance and goes about addressing the bread and butter issues facing the people. The recent army recruitment rallies in Srinagar and Baramulla should be an eye-opener.
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What is the connection between a Bharat Benz double-decker and the Swachh Bharat campaign? It might surprise you, but there is one. During a journey from Jammu to Delhi in this luxury coach operated by Delhi-based Laxmi Holidays, the driver stopped a few kilometers at an unknown place in Panipat near a public washroom, and asked the passengers if they needed to relieve themselves after the long overnight trip.
Unable to hold their bursting bladders, many passengers disembarked and, in complete disregard for public decency, lined up in a disorderly fashion to urinate in the open. The sight was shameful-a blatant mockery of the Modi government's Swachh Bharat campaign, unraveling in full public view with a luxury bus as the backdrop.
I have never urinated in the open, and when the Modi government launched the Swachh Bharat campaign urging a large section of the population to stop defecating and urinating in public, I became one of its most vocal supporters.
Had I joined the group of violators, I would have never forgiven myself. However, there was a glimmer of hope. A public washroom was just a few meters away, and I decided to lead by example. Leaving everything behind in the bus-my mobile phone, laptop, a bag with important documents, including two passports-I hurried toward the washroom. It took me about five minutes to relieve myself, and I returned to the bus, only to find it missing. It had vanished, as if the passengers had fled in a hurry, avoiding the law. For a brief moment, I felt invisible. All my documents-my proof of identity-were gone, and I feared that if the police stopped me, I would be treated with suspicion, as though I were a criminal.
I stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Fortunately, another passenger had also missed the bus. Suddenly, we were two instead of one, and in typical Indian fashion, one and one don't add up two, but eleven-much like Modi's 2AB formula. We were now eleven, as my savior quickly assessed the situation. He pulled out his mobile phone, dialed a number, and within moments, the driver was on the line.“Where have you been?” the driver yelled, as if we had caused the problem. My savior explained the situation, and the driver promised to stop at a flyover near Murthal, known for its
dhabas
and food stops. But as the conversation continued, my new companion's phone suddenly died-its battery drained completely. The situation had taken a turn for the worse.
Stranded on the road with nothing to help us out of this predicament, we felt utterly disoriented. As a movie buff, I couldn't help but think of Dilip Kumar, the legendary method actor of the Indian cinema. In his film Mashaal, he finds himself on the road with his ailing wife, Waheeda Rehman, and attempts to stop every passing car for help. The only difference between Dilip Kumar and me was that my Waheeda Rehman-my precious luggage-was still on the bus, over sixty kilometers away.
I decided to try my hand at a Dilip Kumar moment, and unlike him, I was fortunate. A young man driving a small car stopped, immediately sensing our urgency, and offered us a lift. Grateful beyond words, we quickly piled into the car, thinking our ordeal was finally coming to an end. We reached Murthal, only to find that our bus was nowhere to be seen. The kind man who had helped us had his parents waiting for him, and we were once again back on the road.
We didn't want to waste any more time, so we used the local transport as far as it could take us. My friend managed to find a brief opportunity to recharge his phone, and when the battery finally exceeded two percent, he was able to get in touch with the driver. As expected, the driver's first words were a yell:“How dare you switch off the phone?” To our surprise, the bus had already reached Delhi.
My friend explained to the driver that his phone had died, preventing him from making a call. He then informed the driver that another passenger had been left behind as well. The driver responded,“Ah, now I understand why a mobile phone in one of the upper berths kept ringing non-stop.”
After confirming my seat number, he asked for our location, which was somewhere in Sonepat. The driver also mentioned that another Laxmi Holidays coach was en route to Delhi and that we could catch it to continue our journey.
We made our way through various local transport options and, by luck, found the bus waiting at the MCD toll
naka
near the Singhu Border. We rushed toward the bus, much like the Afghans scrambling for a transport plane when the US abruptly announced its exit from their war-torn country. Once on board, the driver reassured us that our luggage was safe.
Our original bus driver had dropped all passengers at ISBT Kashmiri Gate and was heading back. The new bus we boarded stopped at a signal, and we crossed the road. After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the bus that had cut short our journey finally appeared, and we reclaimed our baggage. My documents were intact, and so was my mobile phone. One of my anxious friends had called me 45 times. I took an
autorickshaw
to a nearby metro station and saw multiple display screens with the Prime Minister's smiling face. Though I'm not one for taking pictures, especially with politicians, for the first time, I felt compelled to take a selfie with the Prime Minister.“Ek selfie to banti thi.” I was home.
Disclaimer: Views expressed are the author's own.
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