Editor,
At the very onset , I want to make one thing very clear – I am not particularly fond of politicians. It’s not that I hate them; detest them or even bear any ill will. No nothing of the sort. It’s simply that I take them as something that I have to live with; something cheerless I can do without! This reaction springs mainly from the actions (mostly nonsensical), performance (purely selfish) , attitude (pomposity personified) and lack of good judgment so very often displayed by most of our elected representatives, past and present, which makes us, the citizens, wonder if all our enthusiasm during election time, is really worth it? I happen to know it’s a feeling most people harbour but are reluctant to express. Then suddenly out of this gloom of despondency a politician does something totally unexpected; an act that cries for attention; something small but hugely humanely emotive! Suddenly optimism springs back to life. Perhaps we can still drink from this fountain called democracy. Perhaps all is not lost. Perhaps Meghalaya can still afford to hope.
I speak of the viral social media post of our Chief Minister, Conrad Sangma, visiting Iewduh on May 19, this year. He is definitely not the first politician or minister to do such a thing. The difference however is previous visits by other personalities or VIPs (as they liked to be called) were , to put it mildly – fair weather drop-bys. The ‘hellos’, the ‘How do you dos’ and handshakes under a bright lenient sky or if it drizzled, then a chat or two under the roof of some accommodating shopkeeper. The visit on the 19th was utterly different. During the visit the heavens opened up; it poured by the bucketful; rooftops turned into torrential drainpipes; the narrow Iewduh lanes turned into torrents of black, foul smelling drains; the torrent carried all the waste of Iewduh ( stinking putrid floating garbage).
What impressed most was not what the CM said nor the funds for Iewduh development he promised that day. Not the entourage accompanying him. It was his body language as he underwent the wet ordeal; his interactions with the people; the matter of fact manner he faced the camera with his wet hair plastered to his forehead; the way he waded through the muck mentioned above. The Chief Minister of Meghalaya that day exemplified to a tee the misery that thousands of shoppers suffer from every rainy day at Iewduh. On the 19th we saw the CM personally experiencing this common man’s problem. He simply shared what the man on the street and every housewife of Shillong experienced everyday of their lives. People saw it and they liked it. I would like to term it as Political Empathy with the electorate. An example perhaps for every politician to emulate. Hats off to you Conrad! Please keep it up and follow up this visit with solid action on the ground.
Yours etc.,
Toki Blah,
Via email
A seat of respect: Lack of civic sense or just plain apathy
Editor,
Recently, during a visit to Nazareth hospital as a patient, I not only witnessed but also experienced something both troubling and disappointing. A glaring lack of basic empathy in one of the most critical aspects of care. The waiting area was packed, as is often the case, but what stood out was the number of visibly pregnant women standing, waiting for their turn, some for as long as 45 minutes without being offered a seat. These were not just early pregnancies; many of these women were heavily pregnant, some leaning against walls, holding their backs in discomfort, others clearly struggling with swelling in their legs and feet.
While hospital waiting areas are understandably crowded with patients from various departments of neurosurgery, orthopaedics, and more, it remains baffling that attendees accompanying these patients do not voluntarily offer their seats to heavily pregnant women. The weight of their condition, both literally and figuratively, seems invisible to those who choose convenience over compassion.
It is reasonable to acknowledge that attendees are present to support patients, and some may be dealing with their own fatigue or health concerns. However, the fundamental question that lingers is -are these waiting area seats meant for patients or for attendees? If space is truly limited, should there not be a system in place ensuring that those with greater need, such as pregnant women, have priority access?
What’s more disappointing is that nothing was done by the hospital administration to address the issue. There was no intervention by staff, no designated seating, no announcement requesting that those more able-bodied offer their seats to pregnant women. It felt as though the suffering of these women (including mine ) was invisible both to the people around them and to the system meant to support them.
This is not just about a lack of chairs. It’s about a lack of awareness, accountability, and compassion. While we talk about maternal health and dignity in public forums and policy documents, the reality on the ground tells a very different story.
Yours etc.,
Name withheld on request
Via email
Stray dog crisis demands urgent, statewide action
Editor,
The Meghalaya High Court’s order to extend the stray dog control measures beyond Shillong to the entire state is not just timely—it is essential. Just as the government ensured no citizen was left behind during the COVID-19 vaccination campaign, a similar no-exception approach is now needed for the state’s growing stray dog population. The situation in several localities within Shillong has reached alarming proportions. Unchecked birthing among stray dogs has led to a kind of population explosion that is not only a public health concern but a serious safety risk for residents, especially children and the elderly.
One cannot help but wonder what the Animal Husbandry Department and civic authorities have been doing all this while. Despite the evident crisis, there is little to no visible action from either of these crucial departments. In fact, public memory does not serve a single instance where these departments have led any substantial or sustained effort to curb the stray dog menace in any part of the state.
It is commendable that the court has invoked the Animal Birth Control (Dogs) Rules, 2001, following a PIL, and directed the formation of a committee to implement sterilization and vaccination protocols. However, implementation must not be a tick-box exercise. Without a committed, campaign-style initiative—mirroring the intensity and coverage of COVID-19 vaccination drives—the situation is unlikely to improve. The comparison may seem unusual at first glance, but the underlying principle is the same: universal coverage, accountability, and urgency.
This is no longer a matter of isolated dog bites or nightly disturbances—this is a question of civic sanity and public health. The state machinery must wake up to the reality and act decisively, or else this issue will spiral further into an urban catastrophe.
Yours etc.,
Ranjit Bose
Shillong – 1