There are moments in the life of a nation when politics must step aside and humanity must take over.
This is one of those moments.
For more than two weeks, Sonam Wangchuk—an engineer, education reformer and one of India’s most respected public intellectuals—has been on an indefinite hunger strike at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar. His fast is in solidarity with students demanding accountability after repeated examination failures, including the NEET-UG paper leak controversy and wider concerns over the integrity of India’s examination system. Among the demands being raised are the resignation of Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, comprehensive examination reforms, and accountability for failures that have affected millions of students and, according to the protest movement, contributed to immense psychological distress for many young people. (Reuters)
As I write this, reports indicate that Wangchuk has lost significant weight during his fast, prompting medical concern and even intervention from the Delhi High Court, which has directed authorities to monitor his health and act if medically necessary. Yet the larger political response remains one of silence rather than engagement. (Reuters)
Whether one agrees with his demands or not is almost beside the point.
What matters is that in a democracy, peaceful protest deserves to be heard.
Not necessarily accepted.
Not necessarily agreed with.
But heard.
This Is Bigger Than Left or Right
One of the saddest developments of our times is that every issue is immediately forced into a political box.
If you speak, you are labelled.
If you question, you are branded.
If you protest, you are presumed to belong to one camp or another.
But democracy is not meant to work that way.
You can be right-wing.
You can be left-wing.
You can be a centrist.
Or you may reject political labels altogether.
Yet if citizens undertake a peaceful democratic protest, particularly one involving a hunger strike, the government of the day has a constitutional and moral responsibility to engage with them.
Engagement is not surrender.
Dialogue is not weakness.
Listening is not defeat.
It is democracy functioning exactly as it should.
We Have Seen This Before
Many people have forgotten what happened during Anna Hazare’s anti-corruption movement.
Whether one agreed with every demand or not, the government led by Dr Manmohan Singh did not pretend the protest did not exist.
There were discussions.
There were negotiations.
There was communication.
The administration recognised that when a citizen undertakes an indefinite fast, particularly on an issue that resonates with millions, silence is not an acceptable response.
The government engaged because democratic governments are expected to engage.
Today, many observers—including political leaders from across the spectrum—have drawn attention to what they see as a stark contrast between that approach and the response to Sonam Wangchuk’s ongoing hunger strike. (The Times of India)
The comparison is not about glorifying one government or demonising another.
It is about asking whether democratic norms should remain consistent regardless of who occupies power.
Students Deserve Better
Every examination paper leak is more than an administrative failure.
It is a betrayal.
Students invest years of their lives preparing for competitive examinations.
Families sacrifice financially.
Young people postpone careers, relationships and dreams.
When examinations are compromised, it is not merely a question paper that leaks.
Faith leaks.
Trust leaks.
Hope leaks.
This is why so many young Indians have found themselves standing beside Wangchuk.
Not because they agree on every political issue.
But because they believe accountability matters. (AP News)
My Voice, Too
Today I wanted to attend the CJB protest at Azad Maidan.
Life had other plans.
There was a death in the family.
I attended a funeral instead.
Sometimes grief rearranges your priorities before you have a chance to make your own choices.
But not being physically present does not mean remaining silent.
So I am writing.
Because expression matters.
Silence helps nobody.
I Remember the Delta Wave
Perhaps this affects me more deeply because I remember another time when ordinary people screamed into the void.
During the Delta wave of COVID-19, I lost my aunt.
I nearly died.
My sister nearly died.
Hospitals were overwhelmed.
Families begged for help.
People cried out in desperation.
Many of us felt unheard.
Many of us felt invisible.
Those memories never truly leave you.
They remind you that institutions exist for people—not the other way around.
When citizens cry out, the system must listen.
If it doesn’t, it slowly loses not merely efficiency but legitimacy.
The Cost of Refusing to Listen
History teaches us that democracies are not destroyed overnight.
They weaken gradually.
One ignored protest.
One dismissed concern.
One silenced voice at a time.
The tragedy is not disagreement.
Disagreement is healthy.
The tragedy is indifference.
When governments stop responding to peaceful dissent, citizens begin to wonder whether peaceful methods still have meaning.
That is a dangerous place for any democracy to find itself.
My Hope
I am not asking everyone to agree with Sonam Wangchuk.
I am asking that we defend something even more important.
The right of peaceful protest to receive a meaningful response.
That principle should not depend upon who is protesting.
Nor should it depend upon who is in power.
Governments change.
Democracy must endure.
If we fail those who peacefully seek accountability today, tomorrow there may be nobody left willing to believe that peaceful democratic action can still make a difference.
And that would be a loss far greater than any political victory.
Democracy does not die because people disagree.
It dies when those in power stop listening.
Hearts Still Care 