Separatist violence in Kashmir has fallen to its lowest level since an anti-India insurgency began nearly two decades ago.

However, people are still killed in daily firefights and occasional attacks by suspected militants, mostly in rural and mountainous areas.

Is Pakistan still aiding militants fighting Indian troops in Kashmir, despite Islamabad’s assurances and a slow-moving peace process between New Delhi and Islamabad?

Senior Indian security officials say Pakistan is still arming, training and sending militants to the disputed Kashmir region, making it difficult to end violence in the war-weary region.

“In this situation we should not expect that terrorism can be finished,” said Kuldeep Khuda, police chief of Jammu and Kashmir state - arguably the most difficult policing job in the country.

But Pakistan has consistently denied its involvement in abetting Kashmir militancy that has killed tens of thousands of people across the scenic region since 1989, has left nothing untouched and has brought untold misery to a once carefree society.

Kashmiri residents and local leaders, both pro-India and separatists, attribute the fall of violence involving troops and Muslim militants to the India-Pakistan peace process which started in early 2004 following a ceasefire between two armies on the highly militarised Line of Control, which divides Kashmir between the two.

But a sort of non-violent struggle in the form of near daily street protests could be potentially more challenging to New Delhi than militancy and could provide fertile ground for a new anti-India insurgency.

A columnist putting the Kashmir question in the context of an emerging cold war in the region predicts renewed violence in Kashmir.

“A new phase of deadly militancy is most likely to hit Kashmir again. This is not to press the panic button but to understand the outcome of fresh geopolitics in South and West Asia,” Syed Tassadque Hussain wrote in the daily newspaper Rising Kashmir.

Is Kashmir headed toward renewed violence, even as Pakistan says it is cracking down on militant groups it has backed in the past to fight Indian troops in Kashmir?

State-run Air India, which enjoyed a monopoly in the country till the deregulation of the aviation sector in 1991, is besieged by ballooning debt and a litany of woes, pushing it to the brink of collapse.

Unless, of course, the central government steps in to bail out the national flag carrier.

Air India is now seeking a 39.81 billion rupees package from the state, though the airline has been asked to come out with a plan of action to make its existence viable.

The money may come as federal aid in the form of equity and loan.

But some say the airline needs a credible action plan to rescue it.

The civil aviation ministry says the 31,000 workforce should be trimmed to keep it viable. Estimates put the average number of employees per aircraft at nearly 1:230, while as per international standards, an airline needs 1:100 -150 employees.

Others question whether the ministry, which presides over the National Aviation Company Ltd created to run the merged Indian and Air India, can absolve itself from the faultlines posed by the bloated workforce.

Complimentary travel in business class for its employees is one of the perks authorities seek to curb. How much would such a measure help the carrier?

But is the high employee-aircraft ratio the sole reason for the airline’s woes, though it accounts for 40 billion rupees as wages annually for the troubled airline?

Air India’s debt in June 2009 more than doubled to 152 billion rupees from 65 billion rupees in November 2007. And that was mainly due to massive aircraft orders placed by the beleaguered firm with aircraft makers — 68 with Boeing and 43 with Airbus.

The orders were placed when the country was beginning to witness an aviation boom, but some analysts say the airline did not have the much needed aircraft when it really wanted them.

The opposing point of view is that you always need aircraft to catch up on a boom next time around.

Forty-nine aircraft have been received so far, but the aviation boom did not last long enough to justify the huge orders for the struggling airline, which placed orders worth nearly 440 billion rupees.

Four out of ten seats are vacant now, but that statistic can be tagged to many airlines as a global economic recession and soaring oil prices dented appetite for air travel.

Were the additional aircraft ordered without properly identifying the potential?

Nearly 30 airlines have become defunct globally in the past one year alone.

Now, wonks seek a renegotiation as part of the umpteen measures needed to lift the sagging fortunes of India’s state-run airline.

But any cancellation or deferring of placed orders would also invoke some penalty from aircraft makers.

Air India’s international market share dipped to about 18 percent in the last fiscal from 21.7 percent a year ago, while a percent of its domestic market share also declined to touch 16.9 percent in the period.

Airline passenger numbers dipped about 8 percent in the first half of 2009, adding to the mountain of woes faced by Air India.

In punctuality too, Air India’s domestic service stood fourth with a 75.7 percent record, behind Indigo (87 percent), Jet Airways (86.4 percent) and Go Air (83.4 percent).

Many bilateral agreements also allegedly ceded Air India’s market share to foreign air lines, while some huge revenue earners like ground handling operations in Bangalore and Hyderabad were gifted on a platter to foreign players.

Aviation experts say the merger of Air India and Indian also did not have the desired impact.

So what would a turnaround for the airline involve?

Many say it will surely be a herculean task for the top brass of the airline. They are charting a rescue plan which would be whetted by SBI Caps before it is placed to the federal government for approval.

Can privatisation revive the dipping fortunes of Air India? Does it need aviation experts rather than bureaucrats to pull off a turnaround?

If the early comments on the Great Debate are anything to go by, it seems there is still a lot of goodwill towards Elattuvalapil Sreedharan.

The man behind the Delhi metro, seen as one of India’s most successful infrastructure projects, resigned on Sunday after part of a rail bridge in the capital collapsed and killed six people.

Sreedharan had enjoyed a towering profile as a civil engineer who got things done — and quickly. In the words of his spokesman, Sreedharan “can walk into the prime minister’s office. He has a reputation that he carries.”

Business students from as far away as Harvard have studied the metro’s success.

In contrast to the delays, cost-overruns and red tape that have plagued projects for decades, the subway’s first phase finished on budget and nearly three years ahead of schedule, with 99.5 percent of trains running on time.

All eyes were on the second phase, which is due for completion when the city hosts the 2010 Commonwealth Games.

But the deaths have raised questions whether the quick building came at the expense of human lives.

When he submitted his resignation, the 77-year-old Sreedharan won praise for accepting “moral responsibility” for the accident.

I interviewed Sreedharan recently, and his words now seem almost prophetic. His drive for speed was clear.

In his office, as in many others in his organisation, hangs a clock counting down the days to the next deadline.

“For us, time is money,” he told me. “We can’t allow one day to waste.”

But Sreedharan also outlined his well-known spiritual bent which he encourages his employees to follow. He fits yoga and meditation around his workday.

Behind his desk, reads a sign quoting Sanskrit scriptures: “Whatever to be done I do, but in reality, I do not do anything.”

He emphasised the importance of integrity, which he said made the government trust his organisation enough to let go of most of the decision-making.

“People should be prepared to take decisions and not pass on the buck,” he said. “We should be able to trust people in power, which means people in power should have a proven integrity.”

Delhi’s chief minister Sheila Dikshit has since persuaded Sreedharan to withdraw his resignation. Many want him to keep his job, saying the project is better off with him on board.

An editorial in the Indian Express said the resignation was “decidedly not what the Metro project needs.”

“This, in a sense, is a test case for infrastructure policy: will it continue to revolve around individuals and their differing degrees of commitment to these projects, or can we ensure that these crucial projects, which undergird our economic future, roll out successfully with stronger institutional checks and progress reviews?

Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has recruited Nandan Nilekani, the engineer-entrepreneur who co-founded Infosys Technologies and helped propel India’s rise as an IT giant, to head a government authority on national ID cards.

Singh said India needed experts like Nilekani from outside the political system. Singh may feel the same about Sreedharan.

As Dikshit said: “The metro and the country needs him, because he has done good work not only in Delhi, he has done it all over India.”

More than 130 people died after consuming bootleg liquor in Gujarat last week.

While prohibition is in place in Gujarat, liquor is often smuggled in from neighbouring states and people are forced to buy it at inflated prices.

What can the poor do? They cannot afford to buy branded alcohol so they consume illicit liquor. Plastic pouches called ‘potlis’ of illegally brewed liquor are available for as little as ten rupees.

Some have said that Gujarat’s prohibition policy encourages bootlegging. Liquor baron Vijay Mallya argues that apart from loss of revenue this leads to “illegal, unhygienic and unsupervised production of deadly cocktails which claim innocent lives.”

During the Great Depression, the ‘Noble Experiment’ prohibition policy in the United States was repealed just 14 years after the sale of alcohol was banned.

An article in the Foreign Policy magazine, a couple of years ago, argued:

“A ‘drug-free world,’ which the United Nations describes as a realistic goal, is no more attainable than an ‘alcohol-free world’ - and no one has talked about that with a straight face since the repeal of Prohibition in the United States in 1933.”

In the context of legalising use of marijuana, author and journalist Christopher Hitchens argues that:

“It’s beyond the competence of the state to decide a question like this. You can’t hope the government to go out and control what substance somebody puts in their own body. So even if I thought that marijuana was poisonous I would still say the government is not going to be able to stop it, so it shouldn’t try.”

In the 1990s, Andhra Pradesh took up and abandoned the prohibition policy in less than two years.

“Despite our best efforts, the prohibition-related offences, particularly illicit distillation and smuggling, have been steadily increasing in the state,” the state Excise minister said when the ban was being lifted.

In New Delhi, you have to be above twenty-five years of age to be legally served alcohol in a bar.

I have been occasionally asked for identification but have got away with a little bit of bluster. I am well over twenty-five but bartenders have no means of confirming it if

I refuse to produce proof of my age.

The age policy is routinely flouted.

In Gujarat, the more resourceful “get a medical certificate from a designated civil surgeon, who prescribes a dose of liquor necessary for curing an ailment.”

The Constitution mandates in Part Four (carrying the legally unenforceable provisions which ideally should be enforced by governments):

“To bring about the prohibition of intoxicating drinks and drugs that are injurious to health.”

If banning alcohol puts people in the way of more harmful drinks, then is the government fulfilling the constitutional mandate?

China’s troubled Xinjiang region shares borders with eight countries, which is perhaps one reason President Hu Jintao dropped out of the G8 summit to head home, underscoring the seriousness of the situation and the need to quickly bring the vast oil-rich region under control.

Xinjiang touches Russia, Pakistan, Afghanistan, India, Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, besides the Tibet Autonomous Region.

China, as this piece for the Council on Foreign Relations points out, has long been concerned that these states on its periphery both in central and south Asia may be tempted to back a separatist movement in Xinjiang because of the Uighurs’ cultural ties to its neighbours.

To that extent it has cultivated close ties with some of these neighbours, even trying to promote direct trade between Xinjiang and the provinces of neighbouring countries just over the border.

In April this year, the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region signed an agreement to establish friendly provincial relations with Pakistan’s North West Frontier Province, according to this report in the state-run China Daily.

The two sides agreed to explore partnership in oil and gas resources, bilateral trade and agriculture besides vowing to accelerate work on a long-planned direct rail link.

More importantly, Pakistan’s ambassador to China, Masood Khan, who signed the agreement, said the two sides must deepen their partnership to oppose “terrorism, extremism and separatism.”

Beijing’s concerns over the instability in Pakistan especially in the NWFP spilling over into Xinjiang have frequently surfaced, although in perhaps characteristic style, they have gone about it in low-key manner, quite different from the Western approach.

In March this year, Xinjiang governor Nuer Baikeli, speaking on the margins of China’s annual parliament meeting said his region faced threats from violence rippling across south and central Asia. Militant attacks in Pakistan and even the one in Mumbai and the violence in Afghanistan showed Xinjiang had reason to fear, he said.

The links go back to the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan. As the piece for the Council of Foreign Relations noted, many Uighurs travelled into Pakistan and Afghanistan in the 1980s and 90s, where they were exposed to Islamic extremism.

China has worried ever since about the militants slipping in and out Xinjiang.

Pakistan’s Daily Times noted the Chinese concerns, but said Islamabad could only play a limited role given that it was itself fighting to regain control of its territory in the northwest from the militants.

[PHOTO: A boy runs past an overturned car just outside the Uighurs neighbourhood in Urumqi in China's Xinjiang Autonomous Region July 8, 2009. REUTERS/Nir Elias]

The Jamestown Foundation, a U.S.-based think tank, has warned of a renewed threat to India from the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba.

It quotes intelligence sources as saying the LeT’s marine wing may be planning a Mumbai-type incursion to target vital installations in the coastal states of Gujarat, Maharashtra and Goa.

The group is also reported to have funneled huge amounts of money from its Gulf-based networks to fund activities in India.

It is not the first time such a warning has been issued, since the attacks in November. The U.S. embassy still has a warden message on its website dated June 2, 2009, warning U.S. citizens there is a “high threat of terrorism throughout India.

India’s Home Minister P. Chidambaram wasn’t too happy with the advisory when it was issued, arguing the country was safe to travel. But if his own intelligence agencies are talking of a second 26/11, you have to ask yourself if you should not be taking these warnings seriously.

The Jamestown Foundation said the LeT was using the Gulf networks and hawala channels to route money for operations not just in India, but in Pakistan itself.

Is it a tactical shift to ride out international pressure that New Delhi has been trying to bring on Pakistan to act against a group long regarded as a ”strategic asset” ?

This week Pakistan has appealed against a court decision to free LeT founder Hafiz Mohammad Sayeed, accused by India of plotting the Mumbai attack. And simultaneously,  the United States moved against the group, launching sanctions against three senior operatives along with one from al Qaeda.

Some people are already speculating if the Lashkar is the new al Qaeda.

There was a television ad some time back where a village leader played by Bollywood actor Abhishek Bachchan cutely decrees that feuding villagers would be known by their mobile numbers rather than names denoting caste or community.

It’s an idea that no longer seems far-fetched.

This week, the finance minister allocated 1200 million rupees to  the Unique Identification Authority of India, headed by former Infosys chief Nandan Nilekani.

The project provides a unique identity number, something like the U.S. social security number, to India’s billion-plus citizens.

It involves setting up a database with the identification details of citizens.

“It also uses an advanced technology like biometrics on a scale which has not been used anywhere in the world,” said Nilekani.

The biometric details will make identification foolproof.

Multi-purpose National Identity Cards have already been issued to a million citizens under a test scheme in some districts.

These will be combined with the unique identification number scheme.

Once implemented, the project is expected to help the government identify beneficiaries of various welfare schemes and help security agencies.

It will also link the database to the election commission and the income tax department.

“The Unique ID number, the number, not the card, is going to be the unifying attribute of all these cards. In other words, you may have four to five cards from different sources but all of them will have the same unique ID of yours that will act as a unifier,” Nilekani said.

However, there are misgivings about the project.

Tavleen Singh, writing for the Indian Express says the project may just add “to the massive infrastructure of our bureaucracy.”

“The BPL (below poverty line) folks that I know in Mumbai and Delhi do not have birth certificates, identity cards or any proof of nationality. Even if they did, they have no means of knowing how to access the benefits that accrue to them. Will a national identity card make their lives less difficult?”

“And, besides how will the card work in villages that do not have adequate supplies of electricity leave alone computers?” she asks.

Columnist Swaminathan Anklesaria Aiyar writes — “If the implementers have no interest in service delivery, can a smart card outsmart them?”

It’s an appealing idea to be able to put down a number instead of filling details in a form on one’s father, mother, locality and surname and be immediately slotted.

But having practically lived as a stateless citizen in my own country for a while (no voter id, no ration card, no permanent address, a bank account but on the office address) I am all for letting the state know that I exist, occasionally outside my office in my unofficial capacity as well.

But will everyone trust the government or the bureaucracy with all their details available at the click of a button?

Misuse of voters list to target communities during riots has been alleged. Data can leak.

Who for instance will or can have access to someone’s fingerprints on a biometric database?

In a situation where the government in general has less information about people than more, this question seems a forced one.

But with the first set of numbers to be issued by late 2010, this issue would need to be resolved.

Is Nilekani by uniting “databases in disconnected silos“, going to be our Harold Bluetooth, the eponymous Viking warrior after whose unifying efforts the  wireless technology is named, or a Big Brother?

Think Vespa, and images of Audrey Hepburn and rides down cobble-stoned streets immediately come to mind.

How about families of four riding precariously on the choked streets of Mumbai or Delhi?

Piaggio, the Italian vehicle maker that has made the Vespa since just after World War II, has made a big success of its three-wheeler auto rickshaws and commercial vehicles in India, and intends to relaunch the iconic brand here soon.

Why now, when vehicle sales are sluggish, at best? Why now, when the two-wheeler market has moved pretty much decisively to motorbikes? Why now, when a certain low-cost car is close to actually rolling into homes of a lucky 100,000?

But not so long ago, which middle-class Indian family didn’t aspire for — and wait months for — a Bajaj Chetak?

Now, despite gravity-defying motorbikes endorsed by the likes of Hrithik Roshan and Mahendra Singh Dhoni, scooter sales are slowly but surely ticking up.

Sure, many of these are the gentle, gearless variety so popular with the ladies. And yes, they cannot hope to match the numbers of their more macho cousins.

But scooters are also enjoying a bit of a comeback in the west, particularly among college goers, celebs and eco-warriors, because of high fuel prices and the downturn, and a nostalgia that has revived such icons as Volkswagen’s Beetle or Fiat’s Cinquecento.

In India too, scooter sales are ticking up as Honda, Bajaj and TVS explore new, stylish and more fuel-efficient options.

Vespa — Italian for wasp, and named some say because of the high-pitched noise of its two-stroke engine or because of its shape — is no stranger to the Indian market: it was made by Piaggio and then LML in past years.

Now, Piaggio’s wholly owned subsidiary will undertake the task of wooing the Indian masses with the Italian classic.

All we need perhaps, is a scene, a la Roman Holiday or La Dolce Vita, in one of our Bollywood flicks, featuring the new Vespa, to kickstart a new generation of Vespa-lovers in India.

Who would be our own Hepburn and Peck?

“Freaking unbelievable. Absolutely speechless!”
Gay rights activists in India have been posting congratulatory messages on blogs and Twitter ever since the Delhi High Court on Thursday ruled gay sex was not a crime.
human rights.

Some see the ruling as crucial for the country’s battle against HIV/AIDS.

India has the world’s second highest HIV/AIDS caseload and gay advocacy groups say fear of persecution by law enforcement agencies often leaves homosexuals without easy access to health information and preventive care, rendering them more vulnerable to infection.

The gay sex debate and repealing of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code that makes “unnatural sex” a punishable offence will have wide- ranging implications in the months to come.

But it’s difficult to predict whether conservative Indians would change their perception of the gay community.

India has traditionally been a study in curious contradictions that are deeply interwoven in its social fabric through centuries. If it is embracing and tolerant of alien customs, it is also proud and conservative of its own.

Visitors to the ancient temples of Khajuraho, built in the 10th century, would find homosexual couples immortalised in its stone carvings.

Yet, in the 21st century, gay men and women in India find it hard to come out of the closet in a society that frowns on public display of affection even among heterosexual couples.

While there rarely has been a conviction under section 377 in the last two decades, gay rights activists say it remains a powerful tool in the hands of the police to harass homosexuals.

It also remains to be seen if the territorial jurisdiction of the Delhi High Court will be extended to encompass homosexuals in all Indian states.

The government’s reaction following the court ruling has been cautious.

Analysts say it would need to take the debate forward without antagonising religious sentiments especially those of Christians and Muslims, who are traditionally opposed to homosexuality.

For now, the court ruling will hold unless challenged in the Supreme Court or replaced by an act of Parliament.

The main debate that remains still is to find a common law that allows constitutional rights to gays having consensual sex without letting off paedophiles and same-sex rapists.

But are Indians ready to accept a same-sex couple moving in next door, gay parents at PTA meetings or at social events?

A few days ago, a friend called to share plans for a week-long holiday. She had convinced her family to take the vacation in Kashmir, the perfect opportunity to escape the scorching heat of New Delhi.

It was a good time to visit the Valley. The uproar over the May 29 Shopian case — in which locals blamed the death and rape of two women on Indian security forces — had died down.

Or so it seemed.

Then my friend called again. She sounded glum and I soon knew why. The trip had been cancelled.

Her family had decided not to risk it. A curfew was in place in parts of Kashmir after security personnel in Baramulla were accused of harassing a woman.

Four protesters had died and scores injured in subsequent protests. Much of the Valley remained shut for a strike called by separatists. The streets were empty and there was little sign of tourists.

In the coming days, there is no doubt that Kashmiris will need to choose between protests and tourism — a major source of income.

Many of the Kashmiris I spoke to seemed upset that frequent protests and strikes were keeping tourists away.

“Earlier, we used to make frequent trips to tourist places like Gulmarg and Pahalgam, once in two days or even twice in one day but now we make one trip in 15 days,” said taxi operator Ghulam Rasool.

Rafique Quadri, a high-ranking state tourism official, said that regular clashes and curfews were affecting tourism in Kashmir.

Even Chief Minister Omar Abdullah has spoken out against the negative effects of such strikes and protests.

“Frequent strikes deprive thousands of people from earning their livelihood,” he told a meeting in Srinagar.

How important is it to Kashmiris for the world to catch a glimpse of what a Mughal emperor once called “Paradise on Earth”? What is their priority - azadi (freedom) or economic gain?