Thursday, 23 October 2025

Kerala and PM SRI: Politics or Progress?

 

Kerala and PM SRI: Politics or Progress?

— V. R. Ajith Kumar

Kerala has long been known for thinking differently when it comes to education. The state has often deviated from traditional educational models followed elsewhere in India—an approach that has brought both advantages and disadvantages to generations of students. Interestingly, the Central Government’s National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 has incorporated many of the models that Kerala pioneered years ago.

However, due to political opposition, Kerala chose not to sign the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with the Union Government for implementing certain schemes under the NEP. As a result, the state lost substantial financial assistance, and more importantly, its students were deprived of a broader national educational vision. Many who care deeply about the future of education in Kerala now view this ideological tussle between the Centre and the state with concern.

In India’s federal system, development ideally moves forward in a “double-engine” manner—when both the Central and State Governments pull in the same direction, progress accelerates and efficiency improves. Unfortunately, in Kerala’s case, the engines seem to be moving in opposite directions. The Centre and the state are politically at odds, and this conflict often hampers effective governance.

It is essential to separate politics from governance. Availing the maximum benefits of Central schemes should not be seen as a political concession but as a practical step toward public welfare. It is immature to believe that cooperating with the Centre automatically strengthens the BJP or weakens the Left.

Kerala has undertaken extensive school renovations through KIIFB (Kerala Infrastructure Investment Fund Board) funding—funds that must eventually be repaid with interest. But what would be the harm in implementing centrally sponsored schemes like PM SRI, where 60% of the cost is borne by the Central Government? The financial benefit alone should make the state reconsider its stance.


What is PM SRI?

PM SRI stands for Prime Minister’s Schools for Rising India. The scheme aims to transform select existing schools into model institutions aligned with the spirit and philosophy of the National Education Policy 2020. It includes Kendriya Vidyalayas, Navodaya Vidyalayas, and other government schools, with the goal of raising educational standards and inspiring nearby schools to improve as well.

The PM SRI initiative promotes holistic education and shifts the focus from rote learning to competency-based learning. It emphasizes smart classrooms, digital learning tools, e-content, infrastructure upgrades, vocational training, IT and AI skills, as well as opportunities for internships and entrepreneurship.

The scheme also stresses collaboration with local industries, practical learning, and conceptual understanding. Furthermore, PM SRI schools are envisioned as green schools—implementing projects such as solar energy, LED lighting, nutritional gardens, waste management, plastic-free zones, water conservation, and rainwater harvesting.


Implementation and Scope

The project runs for five years (2022–23 to 2026–27). Schools are identified through a transparent selection process using UDISE (Unified District Information System for Education) data. Each state must sign an MoU with the Centre to ensure full compliance with the NEP.

A school will earn the PM SRI status only after a competitive evaluation and a field inspection. The School Quality Assessment Framework (SQAF) will be used to continuously monitor progress.

The total project cost is ₹27,360 crore, of which the Centre contributes ₹18,128 crore and the states ₹9,232 crore. Each block can have a maximum of two PM SRI schools, and it is mandatory to use the regional language as the medium of instruction at least up to Class V. Across India, 14,500 schools and about 18 lakh students are expected to benefit from the programme.


Kerala’s Missed Opportunity

Kerala’s decision to stay out of the PM SRI scheme was, in my opinion, a serious mistake. The initiative could have further enhanced the pioneering work done through IT@School and KITE, and elevated Kerala’s already commendable education system to new heights.

If recent reports are true—that the Centre has agreed to include Kerala in the scheme even at this late stage—it would be wise for the Chief Minister and the Education Minister to seize the opportunity. They should rise above political resistance, including that from the CPI, and make a decision in the best interests of Kerala’s students and the future of education in the state.


Sunday, 12 October 2025

A Crisis of Justice: The Daswanth Verdict and the Urgent Need for Judicial Reform

 

A Crisis of Justice: The Daswanth Verdict and the Urgent Need for Judicial Reform

*******************************

The Supreme Court’s recent acquittal of Daswanth, who was on death row in Chennai's Puzhal Central Jail, serves as a searing indictment of our investigative and legal system. In 2018, the Chengalpet Mahila Court had sentenced him to death for the 2017 kidnapping, rape, and murder of a seven-year-old girl—a verdict upheld by the Madras High Court. Adding to the gravity of the case, Daswanth was also accused of murdering his own mother while out on bail. The Supreme Court, however, released him, citing "serious lapses in the investigation and trial."

This verdict is more than just a legal technicality; it's a profound failure of justice. A system that acquits an individual "under the shadow of suspicion" has failed to provide justice to a murdered seven-year-old child and a woman.

If Daswanth is not the culprit, then who is the real killer, and who enabled his escape? Does a reliable system even exist to find the truth in the aftermath of a failed trial? We hide behind the grand legal theory that "even if a thousand criminals escape, an innocent person should not be punished." While noble in principle, who is accountable when this theory shields incompetence and denies closure to victims? Why are the courts and the government not showing the necessary urgency to reform this broken structure?

A Proposed Shift: From Adversarial Argument to Scientific Truth-Finding

The current judicial system, where a judge acts as a passive arbiter—listening to two adversarial lawyers, examining selective evidence, and then making an independent decision—elevates the judge to a position of near-divine power. We rely too heavily on the subjective "thinking field" of a single judge. This fundamentally adversarial structure must change. Cases should not be "argued and won"; they should be scientifically investigated and resolved.

My proposal for a reformed system is as follows:


  1. Specialized Investigation Teams: The initial First Information Report (FIR) and preliminary criminal identification should remain with the local police. However, the subsequent interrogation and scientific investigation must be handed over to a higher-level, multi-disciplinary committee.
  2. Expert-Driven Inquiry: This team should comprise not just police but also a criminologist or forensic psychologist, a dedicated forensic expert, and an IT/cyber expert. The trial should only commence once this expert committee certifies that the evidence in the FIR is robust and scientifically sound.
  3. Inquisitorial Trial Structure: We need to move away from oral combat between two lawyers. The trial should be led by an Expert Judicial Committee (including a judge and potentially other specialists) that directly questions the accused, the plaintiff, and the witnesses to establish the truth.
  4. Lawyer as Helper, Not Controller: Lawyers should be permitted to participate, but their role must be limited to assisting their client and the court in presenting facts, not controlling or manipulating the narrative.
  5. Mandatory Continuous Trial: The most critical reform is continuity. Instead of endless postponements that drag cases on for years, a system of continuous trial and judgment must be enforced. Cases that currently languish for decades could be decided within months.
  6. Concise and Focused Judgments: Judgment reports can be significantly streamlined. Instead of thousand-page documents, final judgments should be precise, focused, and limited to a maximum of one hundred pages, ensuring clarity and quicker judicial review.

Our judicial system is a relic, a century behind the needs of a modern nation. An urgent, concerted effort to reorganize and modernize it is necessary. The question is, who will take the initiative? We must wait for the day our legislative bodies transform into venues for this critical, transformative debate.


Friday, 10 October 2025

A gentle soul remembered :Dr.K.Mohandas

 

A Gentle Soul Remembered: Dr. K. Mohandas

Dr. K. Mohandas, former Director of the Sree Chitra Institute and the first Vice-Chancellor of the Kerala University of Health Sciences, passed away on October 9, 2025. My association with him was that of a tenant and landlord—but it soon became much more personal and meaningful.

In 2005, after leaving Delhi, I returned to my hometown, determined to settle down in Pattom, Thiruvananthapuram. Since both my children were studying in Kendriya Vidyalaya, Pattom seemed the most convenient location. My wife Jayashree and I, along with my friend Satish, a PSC officer, visited several houses. None of them felt quite right, though we finally decided on one just to end the search.

It was then that I remembered my family friends Raji and Shammy, who lived in Vrindavan Gardens. We went there to meet them, and during the visit, Shammy’s mother mentioned that a flat nearby was vacant. It belonged to the Director of Sree Chitra Institute. Without delay, Shammy’s sister Sheela called him, spoke briefly, and handed the phone to me. I introduced myself.

When Dr. Mohandas said, “I’ll give you the house, but…,” I thought he was about to ask for a high rent. At that time, rents in the area were around ₹5,000 and above, and I was prepared to agree to any reasonable amount because we liked the place at first sight. But that “but” meant something entirely different.

“That house is my first investment,” he said gently. “Would you take good care of it as your own?”
I assured him that I would. Then he added, “The previous tenant paid ₹3,500 per month. Can Ajith give me that much?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied immediately.

He then said, “If it’s convenient for you, please come to the institute. I’ll give you the keys.”

We went straight there, and after a pleasant conversation, he handed over the keys. He spoke with such warmth about that house—the first property he had ever bought—with the innocence and affection of a child. I felt a deep respect for him that day.

After settling in, I mentioned that a few maintenance works were needed. He said, “Do whatever you want; I’ll pay for it.” I got the house painted and repaired, and later invited him to see it. When he visited after many years, we spent some wonderful moments together. As we offered him apples and other fruits, he smiled and said, “When I wanted to eat all this, I didn’t have the means. Now I can buy anything, but I can’t eat it—diabetes doesn’t allow that.” He drank his tea without sugar and left with a smile that I can still recall vividly.

Later, I would handle all the small repairs myself, never bothering to ask him for reimbursement. Every month, I went to Sree Chitra to pay the rent. He would ask, “Did you do any work on the house this month?” and I’d say “No.” Then we would chat about politics, administration, and the world in general.

One day, he said, “Ajith, don’t trouble yourself coming in person every time. I know you’re busy with official duties—just hand the rent over to my PA.” After that, it became our routine.

We continued living in his flat until I bought another one in Vrindavan Gardens, encouraged by Justice Thankachan Sir. When I returned the keys, Dr. Mohandas said, “Thank you for taking good care of my beloved house.” His voice reflected how deeply his heart was tied to that first possession of his.

Over time, as often happens, I lost touch with him—something I regret to this day. But the memories remain—of his kindness, his humility, and his gentle smile. I also remember how, during those years, I was able to help many people who visited Sree Chitra for treatment, thanks to that association.

That handsome, gracious man and his warm smile are now just a memory.
Farewell, Dr. Mohandas. You will be remembered with affection and respect.