Here is wishing you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year!
When I sat in front of my computer screen and typing this piece, I was acutely aware of my own undefinable trepidations. Will I continue with my undiluted admiration for our famed judiciary or would I be bitter about it? The reason was today the Indian justice system (no less) would be on trial. The case involving Kuldip Singh Sengar, former MLA from Uttar Pradesh would go before the Supreme Court. Senger is serving life imprisonment for rape and kidnapping in addition to a 10-year sentence for the custodial death of the victim’s father. The Delhi High Court had suspended his life sentence and granted him conditional bail on a Fifteen Lakh bail bond. Today a three Bench apex court consisting of Justice Surya Kant, Justice K K Maheshwari and Justice Augustine Masih stayed this Delhi High Court’s bail order noting the seriousness of the crime and risks to the victim. This case underscores a critical balance in our criminal justice system – the rights of the accused versus the safety and dignity of victims. While bail is a constitutional safeguard against indefinite detention, the Court highlighted that in cases of grave crimes – rape of a minor and custodial death of her father – victim protection must take precedence. Granting bail risks intimidation, traumatisation, and erosion of public faith in justice. This case illustrates the limits of bail as a legal entitlement. Courts must weigh not only the presumption of liberty but also the gravity of the offence, the vulnerability of survivors and the broader social impact. In doing so, the judiciary reaffirms that justice is not merely procedural. It is also protective. In essence, the Sengar case is a reminder that bail jurisprudence must also evolve to safeguard victims in high-stakes crimes, ensuring that liberty does not come at the cost of justice or safety. Sengar sought bail on the ground that his appeal against conviction was pending and claimed that aggravated provisions under the POCSO did not apply in his case. Sengar’s lawyers had also argued that he was a legislator, a position that was not included in the list of ‘public servants’ under this law. The Delhi High Court accepted their argument, noting that without aggravated assault, the law mandates a minimum seven-year sentence – which Sengar had already served. Based on these arguments when the High Court suspended his sentence and granted him bail, it sparked a nationwide outrage. The Supreme Court’s stay on Kuldeep Singh Sengar’s bail was a necessary course correction that reasserts the judiciary’s duty to stand with the vulnerable rather than indulge in hyper-technical mercies for the powerful. The real test will be whether the final outcome turns this momentary relief into a durable doctrine that makes it clear that in cases of brutal sexual violence, especially by elected representatives, justice will not be outwitted by legal semantics. Thank you, Your Honour, we the ordinary citizens feel obliged.
In the high-stakes theatre of global aviation, IndiGo has long been the example as a successful behemoth. It was indeed a remarkable success story in aviation – a business model of clinical efficiency. With a domestic market share exceeding 60% and a reputation for clinical, point-to-point efficiency, the airline seemed invincible. However, December 2025 marked a watershed moment – an imbroglio that saw this carrier’s finely tuned machinery ground to a chaotic halt. This meltdown was more than an operational glitch; it is a case study in the perils of hyper-utilisation and the fragility of a near monopoly. The crisis, which peaked between third December and fifth, saw thousands of flight cancellations leaving nearly two lakh passengers stranded, thankfully not in midair! At the heart of the “meltdown” was a collision between IndiGo’s lean business model and the Directorate General of Civil Aviation’s (DGCA) new Flight Duty Time Limitation (FDTL) Rules. Neither of them were not new to this airline or any other. These regulations, aimed at combating pilot fatigue by increasing mandatory rest and capping night landings, effectively broke IndiGo’s crew rostering logic. What beats logic is that the airline had over a year to prepare itself but chose to prioritise aggressive expansion and a hiring freeze over regulatory compliance. The result was a “silent rebellion” among pilots and a system-wide collapse that eventually forced the government to cap fares and mandate a 10% reduction in IndiGo’s winter schedule. The financial fallout was swift. InterGlobe Aviation’s stock felt the tremor with a 7% decline as investor confidence wavered. Management was forced to slash Q3 FY26 growth guidance from high teens to single digits, and the company reported a deepening net loss despite rising revenues. This imbroglio exposed a systemic risk: when a single airline controls three-fifths of a nation’s domestic travel, its internal mismanagement becomes a national infrastructure crisis. Despite the reputational “blemish,” IndiGo’s future is far from grounded. The airline is currently navigating a strategic pivot characterised by three key pillars: IndiGo is aggressively shifting its focus from a 70:30 domestic-to-international ratio toward a 60:40 split by 2030. With orders for Airbus A350-900s and the long-range A321XLR, it is moving into the long-haul, “premium” territory once reserved for full-service carriers. The launch of IndiGo Stretch (business class) and direct routes to cities like London, Amsterdam, and Manchester signals a move away from the “no-frills” identity toward a dual-model powerhouse. To fix the current capacity crunch, the airline has accelerated wet-leasing agreements with Qatar Airways and Freebird Airlines. More importantly, it is building a massive MRO (Maintenance, Repair, and Overhaul) facility in Bengaluru to decouple its fate from global supply chain bottlenecks. The 2025 crisis has delivered a clear message: dominance without resilience is a liability. For IndiGo to reach its goal of being a “one-billion-passenger airline” by 2029, it must transition from a culture of “maximum utilisation” to one of “safety-led stability.” The future holds a more complex version of IndiGo – one that flies farther and offers more luxury, but one that is also under the sternest regulatory microscope in its 19-year history. If the airline can successfully integrate its wide-body ambitions while rebuilding its reputation for reliability, what happened in 2025 would be remembered not as the beginning of the end, but as the painful birth of a global aviation giant.
India (not just West Bengal or Kolkata) was looking forward eagerly to see the football legend Lionel Messi landing in Kolkata. The visit was seen as an opportunity to highlight the football crazy Bengal’s global face. Instead, it exposed a provincial, star struck state machinery that converted a celebration of football into a widely televised fiasco and a civic humiliation. What unfolded at Salt Lake Stadium at Kolkata was not just an organiser’s failure but a deeper indictment of an administration that wants the prestige of a Messi without accepting the responsibility of managing a Messi-sized crowd. Thousands of fans, many having paid upwards of ₹5,000 (a princely sum for a fan), waited for hours only to see Messi for barely 10–20 minutes from a distance, before he was whisked away behind a wall of politicians, security personalities and political bigwigs, making him barely visible to the stands. As the realisation set in, that the “event” was effectively a glorified photo-op for people on the pitch, anger spilled over, predictably. Bottles and chairs were hurled, barricades were torn, parts of the stadium were vandalised forcing the police to ultimately resort to a lathi charge to regain control of the crowd. A serious administration would have limited the stadium capacity to what the security could realistically handle, ring-fence fan sightlines from VIP encroachment, communicated Messi’s exact expected presence clearly in advance and staged the event as a structured show, not as a political durbar. Instead, Bengal got the worst of all worlds: a commercialised event outsourced to a private promoter, co-opted by political actors, underwritten by state security and redeemed only by belated arrests and apologies that came after Kolkata’s sporting reputation had already taken a needless hit. This tragedy was waiting to happen. In this scenario Bengal’s famed Renaissance legacy – home to Tagore, Bose, and a vibrant arts scene – fades into obscurity. The bhadralok intellectuals, once a bulwark against tyranny, now hastens decline through complacency, sidelining modern icons akin to Uttam Kumar or Mahasweta Devi. Film industry woes saw more than three hundred and fifty cinema halls shutter in four years, while literature, theatre and music stagnate amid funding shortages and political meddling. Transborder migration and cultural homogenisation dilute Bengal’s unique ethos, replacing intellectual ferment with populist inertia. This triple decline stems from decades of administrative mismanagement, industrial sabotage like Nandigram, and political parties’ patronage politics, turning a maritime giant into a laggard, nationally. It is a sad reminder that it does not take long for a state to become a national embarrassment from being a cultural icon.
When you see Donald Trump, the incumbent President of the United States of America on TV screens and newspapers, he is vicious when criticising and insincere while praising his predecessors. If you have noticed, there is one clear exception to this rule. Whenever, he eulogises the 25th President of the US, he looks truly genuine and frank. But who was that President and what has he done to the U S? Here it is. He is William McKinley, who is often remembered, for good reason, for his advocacy of high tariffs to protect domestic industries. It is another matter that while tariffs could protect domestic industries, this economic measure could result in higher consumer prices, trade retaliations while making domestic economy plainly inefficient in global competition. Back then in 1890, as a member of the Congress, before becoming President, McKinley championed this law which raised average import duties into the US to nearly 50%. His goal was to protect American manufacturers and workers from foreign competition thus aligning his action with core Republican protectionist policies. While it benefited certain industries, it sparked widespread opposition, contributed to higher consumer prices and led to a Democratic landslide in the 1890 elections. Prices of everyday goods rose, making tariffs unpopular among the public. The tariff was a major factor in the Republican Party’s electoral debacle in 1890. By artificially inflating domestic prices, tariffs reduced economic efficiency and limited consumer choices. President Trump has often invoked McKinley’s legacy to justify tariffs arguing that they protect American jobs. However, history shows tariffs are a double-edged sword; while they can provide short-term relief to industries, they often lead to higher costs, retaliation, and long term inefficiency. Invariably, these tariffs increase prices of everyday goods, making them unpopular among the general public. McKinley then and Trump now, conveniently forget that the effective burden of tariffs on outsiders disproportionately falls on the domestic consumers apart from breeding inefficiencies and reducing innovations. In essence, McKinley’s tariff experiment illustrates both the appeal and pitfalls of protectionism. Tariffs may serve as a political tool to rally domestic support, but their economic limitations, especially in today’s interconnected global economy make them a blunt instrument compared to more nuanced trade policies. But then, who will tell the emperor?
Donald Trump recently was in the news for all the wrong reasons (when was he not). His decision to rebrand the “Kennedy Center” as the “Trump-Kennedy Center” epitomises his broader self-promotion strategy. While it may give the impression that it helps consolidate his influence over cultural institutions, it has predictably sparked backlash from artists, raised legal questions, and highlighted the tension between personal branding and public heritage. His presidency has been marked by an aggressive pursuit of personal branding, extending beyond politics into cultural institutions. The renaming of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts to the Trump-Kennedy Center in December 2025 is the most striking example. The Board of Trustees, the Centre largely composed of his own appointees, voted unanimously to add his name to the iconic venue. Trump described himself as “honoured,” but the move predictably triggered a controversy. The renaming provoked strong reactions from musicians and performers. Several artists cancelled scheduled concerts, citing discomfort with performing under Trump’s name on building. Folk singer Kristy Lee explained that she “couldn’t sleep at night” if she legitimised what she saw as an erasure of history for personal ego. Jazz groups echoed similar sentiments, linking their cancellations to the values of freedom and integrity embedded in their art. This backlash has left gaps in programming during high-profile holiday events, undermining the Centre’s cultural mission. By attaching his name to a venue synonymous with American arts and heritage, Trump seeks to cement his legacy in the cultural sphere. This strategy mirrors his broader pattern of branding – hotels, golf courses, and now national institutions – turning public spaces into extensions of his persona. Supporters view it as true recognition of his leadership, while detractors see it as an attempt to overwrite history that would diminish Kennedy’s symbolic role in American culture. Trump’s self-promotion spree, exemplified by the Trump – Kennedy Center, underscores the tension between personal branding and public heritage. While it strengthens his symbolic footprint, it alienates artists, raises legal challenges, and intensifies cultural polarisation. The episode reveals how political power can reshape not just governance but the very symbols of national identity. Simply put, it sounds crass. Just as I finish writing this, here comes the news that a jazz ensemble and a New York dance company have cancelled their New Year’s Eve performances at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, intensifying the fallout at the arts Center after it was renamed to include President Trump.
When I bid adieu to 2025 and welcome a brand new 2026, I cannot but express this soliloquy. The world is running out of fresh adjectives for the word decline. By now, every new year arrives pre‑exhausted, heavy with recycled optimism and faintly embarrassed resolutions. 2025, for its part, has been less an age of upheaval than of exquisite stagnation – motion without progress and sound without substance. From its first weeks, the signs were plain: think‑tank essays declaring new beginnings, politicians rebooting old promises, executives unveiling products that had already looked obsolete. This spectacle had the rhythm of a ritual. Humanity marched forward gamely, mostly to prove that it could still walk. Technology remained the unchallenged faith of our time and artificial intelligence became its most pious idol. Everything, we were told, was on the brink of transformation – soon, learning itself would be automated, creativity algorithmic, judgment optional. The revolution mostly produced better marketing copy. Machines authored passable reports and humans wrote apologies for the machines. Progress now meant getting your chatbot to mislead you politely. Politics preserved its own dependable absurdity. Democracies clung to their institutions the way aging actors cling to spotlights – with visible strain and misplaced dignity. Leaders gathered at Summits to praise “global cooperation,” then flew home to fortify trade barriers and mistrust. Meanwhile, public life expanded into a theatre of noise: outrage as currency and confusion as policy. The economy, we were told, was “stabilising.” Translated, that meant most people could still afford less than they needed, while a handful of conglomerates redefined hoarding as growth. Inflation dipped only because expectations fell faster than prices. Stock markets celebrated their own detachment from reality, joined by central banks that measured prosperity in graphs rather than in lives. The climate, persistent as guilt, staged its annual reminders – storms too severe for metaphors, wildfires visible from space. Officials offered thoughts, funds and targets conveniently rescheduled for 2040. Sustainability became a branding exercise for those who had already made unsustainability profitable. Culture did not escape the entropy either. Art surrendered its daring to algorithms that promised engagement; cinema re‑discovered sequels to sequels with music blurring into ambience. Literature, heroic but cornered, still whispered warnings no one retweeted. Every platform, it seemed, had something to say; none had anything to add. And yet, amid the fatigue, there was a strange precision to 2025 – the sense of a species coming to terms with its own inertia. We now live in a permanent rehearsal of a crisis, sustained not by belief in better outcomes but by the habit of anticipation. The collective mood is neither despair nor hope, but the dull endurance of those who know both too well. Still, 2026 waits – tentatively, maybe mercifully. The world may not be on the cusp of renewal, but exhaustion can clarify; boredom can breed intention. Beneath the public noise linger quieter acts of repair; young scientists rebuilding trust in expertise, local communities choosing cooperation over spectacle, citizens remembering that civic life survives only when practiced. These are not heroic narratives fit for headlines, but they might, in time, amount to a movement. After all, centuries rarely pivot on grand epiphanies. They shift when people stop mistaking commentary for change. If 2025 was the year humanity perfected standing still, perhaps 2026 will test whether we remember how to walk – not quickly, not gloriously, but in the one direction that still matters – forward.
Thank you.
Venkat R Venkitachalam
