Editor,
In response to Bhogtoram Mawroh’s letter titled “Law Misquoted, Questions Deserve Answers,” (ST July 8,2025), I wish to correct several factual inaccuracies and address the misleading assertion that I “invented” a section of law to support my argument.
Mawroh claims that I cited a “non-existent” Section 10 (1) of the Street Vendors (Protection of Livelihood and Regulation of Street Vending) Act, 2014. A simple reading of the Act, available through official government portals and legal databases, would show that Section 10 exists in full and is titled “Cancellation or Suspension of Certificate of Vending”. The provision explicitly states:
“Where a street vendor who has been issued a certificate of vending under this Act commits breach of any of the conditions thereof or any other terms and conditions specified for the purpose of regulating street vending under this Act or any rules or schemes made thereunder… the Town Vending Committee may… cancel or suspend the certificate…”
In other words, a vendor who violates the terms of their certificate, or refuses to cooperate with regulation, is acting unlawfully. This is not my opinion. It is the language of the law, as passed by Parliament and applicable across the country including in Meghalaya. Mr. Mawroh’s claim that there is “no subsection (1)” is incorrect. While the Act may not use numeric subsection labels in the traditional way (1, 2, 3…), the opening paragraph of Section 10 is understood as its primary operative clause. Legal readers and drafters routinely cite the main operative paragraph as “subsection (1)” for clarity, a common practice across Indian legislation. Furthermore, the suggestion that I distorted facts because I did not cite the entire legislative framework is disingenuous. My article made a focused argument: that vending is protected when legal, but unlawful when it defies the conditions set under the Act and disrupts public safety. This does not contradict the spirit of the Act, it upholds it.
While the Gurnam Kaur judgement dates back to 1989, the principal it establishes, that vending must not obstruct public space- remains good law. It has neither been reversed nor diluted by subsequent Supreme Court rulings or the 2014 act. Age alone does not make a precedent invalid. If Municipal Corporation of Delhi v. Gurnam Kaur were truly outdated and invalid , then why is it still being actively cited by High Courts as recently as May 2025, including in Malkit Singh v. State of U.T. Chandigarh? In that very case, the Punjab and Haryana High Court upheld the core principle laid down in Gurnam Kaur, that while street vending is a protected livelihood, it is not an unregulated or absolute right. So I must ask: what gives Mawroh the authority to dismiss a Supreme Court ruling that continues to shape legal interpretation across the country? Is his opinion more valid than binding precedent reaffirmed by multiple High Courts? If the judiciary still finds this case relevant in defending a balance between regulation and rights, legal precedent is not undone by personal ideology or selective readings. It is tested and affirmed in court, and Gurnam Kaur has passed that test time and again. Dismissing it because it doesn’t suit a political narrative is not legal reasoning, it’s evasion.
Mawroh also presents two scenarios, that I am either misinformed or deliberately misleading. I would counter that there is a third, and more accurate, possibility: that my position is informed, legal, and grounded in lived realities, those of citizens who walk these crowded footpaths daily, including the elderly, schoolchildren, and persons with disabilities.
I do not speak from an ivory tower. I am a student and a resident of Laitumkhrah. I witness firsthand the chaos caused by encroached pavements, ambulances blocked near Nazareth Hospital, and vulnerable pedestrians forced onto the road, causing accidents etc. These are not imagined problems. They are daily dangers. The Government of Meghalaya has established a legal vending zone at the MUDA Complex and other venues. Out of 400 stalls built, 248 vendors have already agreed to relocate. If relocation were truly a “death sentence” to livelihoods, as some have claimed, why have the majority agreed to move? Why would vendors voluntarily want to shift to “cages,” unless they saw value in legal stability, shelter from the elements, and the support of government compensation?
Mawroh’s concern about irregularities in vending certificates should absolutely be addressed, but that does not justify threats, aggression, or refusal to vacate clearly marked no-vending zones. The law is not a buffet from which one picks only what suits their narrative. It is a framework that balances the rights of vendors with the safety and accessibility of all citizens. And yes, threatening government officials who are just following orders, no matter the reason, especially with a dangerous weapon is a crime.
My article did not deny the dignity of street vendors. It only said that dignity should be protected within the framework of legality and shared urban space. That is not cruelty. That is order with compassion.
Yours etc.,
Lyzander E. Sohkhlet
Via email
A step towards inclusive healthcare and cultural validation
Editor,
Through these columns I would like to express my appreciation for your recent coverage of two significant developments: the reports – “Traditional medicine key to achieving global goals of universal health coverage” and “4 Garo traditional healers get NECU accreditation”.
Together, these stories mark an encouraging shift in public health discourse, wherein indigenous knowledge systems—often sidelined in mainstream medical narratives—are finally receiving the recognition they deserve. The accreditation of four Garo traditional healers by the North East Christian University (NECU) is not only a proud moment for the Garo Hills, but also a significant milestone in the evolving relationship between traditional medicine and modern healthcare frameworks.
As a sociologist who explored indigenous healing practices and traditional medicine during my MA dissertation, I find this recognition both meaningful and timely. These traditional systems are not merely curative but are deeply cultural—woven with oral traditions, spirituality, ecological knowledge, and community trust.
The mainstream validation of traditional healers—through scientific protocols, ethical training, and certification—represents a step toward integrating community-based knowledge into national health frameworks without erasing their identity. It signals a more democratic approach to healthcare, where diverse medical epistemologies are acknowledged and respected.
However, this effort must not stop at certification alone. The greater challenge lies in ensuring that such systems are preserved with integrity and passed on responsibly to future generations. Community voices and the custodians of this knowledge must remain central to any policy dialogue. At the same time, further research—particularly interdisciplinary studies exploring the interface between culture, health, and development—should be actively encouraged.
Incorporating local healing systems into broader health strategies not only strengthens public health resilience but also affirms the dignity and intelligence of indigenous communities. I hope this initiative opens further pathways for documentation, structured learning, and respectful collaboration between modern science and traditional wisdom.
I commend The Shillong Times for spotlighting these vital developments and for giving space to indigenous voices in the broader conversation on health equity and cultural recognition.
Yours etc.,
Chingsan R. Sangma
Williamnagar
Curious case of the missing flag
Editor,
Can someone please explain why the massive Indian flag in our city keeps disappearing like it’s doing part-time work as a magician’s assistant? Apparently, the flag’s into modern dating, because it ghosts a lot. Maybe it’s polyamorous too, with multiple states on rotation, too busy fluttering wherever convenient. One week, it’s flying high and commanding us all to stand a little straighter and suddenly remember the national anthem. The next week? Gone, vanished without a trace. No note, no “BRB”, no cheeky “Gone for dry-cleaning.” Not even a cryptic tweet. Just empty skies and confused pigeons. Some say it’s maintenance and others whisper about secret night ops or alien research on nationalism. Is this a flag or a celebrity cameo? Why does it have more off-days than a government office? If it’s going to keep ghosting us, at least give it an Instagram account @SpotTheGhostingFlag. Until then, we shall remain emotionally invested in this accidental game of hide-and-seek. Just a mango citizen here, trying to click one decent photo of the flag for the 20th time.
Yours etc,
Shivani Pde
Via email