Editor,
Every day in Police Bazar we see blind singers sit by the nearby stalls or the bazar corners, mic in hand, a blue-tooth connected sound amplifier a bowl at their feet. Their songs are often beautiful and soothing. People drop a few coins and move on. The talent is real, but the setting reduces it to begging.
The problem is not in the singing. It is where the singing happens. When a blind artist performs on a dusty pavement, in the blazing heat, incessant rain and rushing crowds, the public first sees them as a beggar or a nuisance, and second as a musician. That perception decides the payment: pity money instead of an artist’s fee.
I sometimes wonder who promotes these blind performers to perform in these areas? Is it an organisation or an individual looking for quick earnings with the help of these blind singers? Are these singers paid well, fed and looked after or are they just left to fend for themselves after their stint everyday? Often, I have seen these singers walk back to their destinations in the evenings, each holding the shoulder of the person in front. If organizations are involved in making them perform in designated areas, are these organizations recognized by the authorities? Have their antecedents been checked?
Many towns and cities in India I have visited have spaces the government maintains for public programs — town halls, cultural centers, park amphitheaters, and designated street-performance corners. These stages were built so art could be shared with dignity. Moving blind singers from the market floor to these platforms changes three things at once:
Dignity of Work
On a stage, the singer is presented as a performer, not a petitioner. The audience comes to listen, not to donate out of guilt. A microphone and a posted name turn a “beggar” into “Smt. Or Shri ‘something’, Vocalist.”
Better Earnings
Organized shows can sell tickets, pass a hat at the end, or be sponsored by local businesses and Government cultural funds. A 30-minute set on a Saturday evening at the town square will collect more than a full day in the market, and it allows multiple artists to share the slot.
Public Awareness
When the government allocates time slots for blind musicians, it signals that disability is not inability. Children walking past learn that music is a profession, not a plea. This slowly shifts the market’s culture from charity to respect.
What needs to happen
Municipal list of venues: Publish the halls, parks, and weekly bazaar stages where approved artists can book a slot for free.
Simple registration: A blind singer should only need a disability certificate and a short audition to get on the roster. No bribes, no middlemen.
Fixed timings: Announce “Saturday/Sunday Evenings for Special Artists” so the public knows when to attend and vendors near the venue can benefit from foot traffic.
Basic equipment: Provide a mic, one bluetooth speaker, and a mat. The government already owns these for official functions.
Link with social welfare: Connect stage earnings to existing pension or skill-development schemes so artists do not lose benefits by performing.
The voices in our market deserve an audience, not just alms. The government has built the stages. We only need to open the doors and invite the singers up the steps. When we do, the market will be quieter, and the town will be richer — not in coins dropped from guilt, but in music chosen with respect.
Hope to see some changes in the future.
Yours etc.,
Casper Tariang,
Via email
How Prepared Are We to Face Fire Incidents
Editor,
The tragic fire in Delhi’s Malviya Nagar, which claimed 21 lives, is not just another news story. It is a warning for all of us. Reports suggest that the hotel did not have the required fire clearances, lacked adequate emergency exits, and failed to follow basic safety norms. A place where people expected safety and shelter suddenly became a death trap.
As I read about the incident, I could not help but think about our state. We have countless schools, colleges, hostels, hospitals, hotels, shopping complexes, and government offices where people gather every day. A fire does not announce its arrival. It can break out anywhere and at any time. The question we need to ask ourselves is: Are we really prepared?
This concern is not imaginary. Meghalaya has witnessed several major fire incidents over the years. The devastating fire at the Janata Furniture Building in Police Bazar highlighted the difficulties faced by emergency services in congested areas (The Shillong Times, October 15, 2023). More recently, the massive fire at Goenka Compound left around 200 families homeless (The Shillong Times, January 17, 2026). Another fire destroyed several roadside shops at Them Bijoy (The Shillong Times, May 10, 2026). Thankfully, these incidents did not result in a tragedy on the scale of the Delhi fire, but they should remind us that we are not immune to such disasters.
What worries me is that we often take safety seriously only after a tragedy occurs. We discuss fire safety after a fire, road safety after an accident, and disaster preparedness only after lives have been lost. By then, it is usually too late. I sincerely feel that the concerned departments and authorities should make fire safety a top priority. Schools, colleges, hostels, hotels, hospitals, commercial establishments, and government offices should undergo regular fire safety audits. Emergency exits must remain open and clearly marked. Fire extinguishers, smoke detectors, alarm systems, and other safety equipment should not merely be installed to satisfy regulations; they must be maintained and checked regularly. Mock drills should also become a routine practice so that people know exactly what to do during an emergency.
After all, prevention is always better than cure. A functioning fire extinguisher, a properly maintained emergency exit, or a timely inspection may seem like small things, but in a moment of crisis, they can save lives.
Let us not wait for a major tragedy in Meghalaya to teach us this lesson. The warning signs are already there. The time to act is now.
Yours etc.,
Jairaj,
Via email
Why Is Municipal Water Costlier?
Editor,
In some localities of Shillong, many families wake up each morning worrying , “Will there be enough water today? Or will the taps run dry yet again?” Having no choice, they call tankers to meet their daily needs.
The irony is that the Shillong Municipal Board, entrusted with public welfare, charges Rs. 900 for 1,800 litres of water, while private suppliers deliver up to 2,300 litres for Rs. 800. Why this huge difference? For ordinary households already burdened by rising expenses this gap feels unfair. Shouldn’t the Municipal authority be expected to provide water for “free?” When the poor must pay more to quench their thirst, it brings shame to the Board itself.
Many residents often voice their frustration openly and ask, “Is it not the responsibility of the Municipal Board to ensure a consistent supply of water to every nook and corner of the town? Instead of easing our hardship, why do they charge more than private suppliers?” This shows the growing disappointment of the people. They feel completely let down in their most basic need. Some say when they call the municipal tanker, it shows up only the next day. But the private supplier arrives promptly.
Therefore, in public interest, I fervently urge the Shillong Municipal Board to tackle this basic problem with utmost compassion and fairness. If the people are parched for want of water, accountability must rest on the Municipal Board. It’s high time the public received water from the Municipal without paying a single rupee.
Yours etc.,
Salil Gewali,
Shillong
