Editor,
It was appalling for all of us to witness the high decibel shouting match which started from the Opposition bench and was aimed at putting the Government on the mat. What should have been a serious discussion of an important issue turned into a shouting match. If legislative discourse on Government failures and delivery gaps are found wanting and require deliberation these could have been sorted out in a more reasoned manner with facts and figures and with a calm demeanour. The Chief Minister had to also join in the discussion to tell the Opposition side that if they were serious about pursuing the issue of Inner Line Permit (ILP) then both sides should have converged and taken the matter to Delhi. But it seems like the ILP has become a blame game where one Party can take credit for raising a fiery storm in the Assembly. The Chief Minister is correct in pointing out that not once have the Opposition Parties written to the Home Ministry or even visited Delhi to pursue the matter. Such a manner of settling political scores undermines the ethics of legislative procedures and violates the sanctity of the House. Democracy gives us the right to question, to ask and to demand but not by banging tables and raising voices thereby reducing legislative debates to a slanging match.
Yours etc.,
Dominic S. Wankhar,
Via email
Meghalaya’s Journey into India’s Consciousness
Editor,
I recently travelled to Mumbai, a city that never seems to pause for breath. The moment I stepped out of the airport, I was greeted by the familiar rush of humid air, honking taxis and an endless stream of people moving with purpose. Mumbai has always fascinated me, its energy, its resilience and its remarkable ability to make room for every dream.
As I settled into a local taxi, I struck up a casual conversation with the driver. It is something I often do when I travel; I find that taxi drivers are the best storytellers of a city. He asked me where I was visiting from. When I replied, “Meghalaya,” he immediately nodded and said, “Oh haan, North East mein.”
I was pleasantly surprised. He went on to mention Shillong and even spoke about Cherrapunji. For a moment, I simply listened, absorbing how he spoke about my home state. What surprised me even more was when he referred to the state’s famous haldi, saying he had heard about its quality. There was recognition, familiarity and even admiration in his voice.
That brief exchange transported me back five years to another visit to Mumbai. I remember sitting in a taxi then too, answering the same question about where I was from. When I said “Meghalaya,” the driver looked puzzled. I had to explain that it was in the North East. Even then, the most common response I received was, “Oh, Assam?” For many, the entire region was often reduced to a single name.
Back then, I would find myself explaining repeatedly about Meghalaya’s distinct identity, its culture, its people and its landscapes. Awareness was limited, and our state was often overshadowed by general references to the North East.
This time, however, the difference was striking. That simple conversation meant more to me than he probably realised. It reflected a quiet but meaningful shift. Meghalaya is no longer just a distant, lesser-known state tucked away in the hills. It is emerging as a recognised destination, a name that stands on its own.
The conversation made me reflect on how much has changed over the years. There has been a determined effort to strengthen the state’s identity, to showcase its culture, natural beauty, agriculture and tourism beyond regional boundaries. That sustained push has clearly begun to bear fruit.
Today, Meghalaya is not merely grouped under a broad reference to the North East. It is recognised in its own right, for Shillong, for Cherrapunji, for its unique heritage and even for its high-quality products such as turmeric, mandarin, ginger etc. Increasingly, when conversations turn to the North East, Meghalaya features prominently in people’s minds.
It is encouraging to see how strategic promotion, improved connectivity and consistent engagement have positioned the state on both the national and global map. The recognition feels organic, but it is undoubtedly the result of sustained vision and effort. As a Meghalayan, I feel a quiet sense of gratitude for the consistent efforts made to project the true identity of our state. The recognition we see today did not happen by chance; it reflects vision, commitment and sustained work in placing Meghalaya confidently on the national and global map.
As the taxi moved through Mumbai’s crowded streets, I felt a quiet sense of pride. Awareness may seem like a small thing, but it represents connection. It means stories are travelling. It means identities are being acknowledged.
Five years ago, I had to explain where I came from. Today, people know. They recognise. They appreciate our existence.
And in that ride across Mumbai, I realised that Meghalaya’s journey much like mine has moved forward, steadily and confidently, carving its own space in the national conversation.
Yours etc;
Jack Syiemlieh,
Via email
Traffic Jam in Khliehriat: A Daily Struggle for Students and Teachers
Editor,
Khliehriat, 19th February 2026 — What should have been an ordinary school morning turned into yet another frustrating reminder of a persistent problem. I left my home early, determined to reach my workplace in Rymbai on time. However, like most days, I found myself trapped in a long line of vehicles along the Khliehriat–Lad Rymbai route.
For the past two years, I have been travelling daily from Khliehriat to Rymbai, and the experience has become all too familiar. The primary cause of congestion is the regular movement of heavy trucks during peak school hours. These massive vehicles, often carrying materials, move slowly and occupy a significant portion of the already limited road space. As a result, smaller vehicles, school buses, teachers, and students are forced to wait helplessly in traffic.
This is not an isolated incident but a recurring issue. Almost every morning, commuters face delays that disrupt their schedules. Students, despite leaving home early, often arrive late at school. Unfortunately, many are scolded or even punished for circumstances beyond their control. Teachers, too, struggle to reach their workplaces on time, beginning the day under stress and pressure. Such repeated disruptions affect not only punctuality but also the overall learning environment.
Khliehriat is an important and growing area, witnessing increased commercial and transportation activities. While the movement of goods is essential for economic development, it should not come at the cost of students’ education and daily discipline. A balance must be struck between commercial transport and public convenience.
The concerned authorities may consider restricting the movement of heavy trucks during peak morning school hours. Fixing designated time slots for large vehicles, deploying traffic personnel at critical junctions, and exploring alternative routes for heavy transport could significantly reduce congestion. In the long term, road widening and improved traffic planning are necessary to accommodate the growing volume of vehicles.
Traffic management is not merely about convenience; it directly impacts education, productivity, and public well-being. It is time this daily struggle of students and teachers in Khliehriat receives the attention it deserves.
Yours etc.,
Zakaria Darnei,
Via email
