Friday, October 31, 2025

For information of all Subsidiary Offenders.

 Dear Comrades,

This is regarding recovery from a subsidiary offender namely Sri Nihar Ranjan Patnaik, a Postal Assistant, who faced disciplinary action for alleged negligence while working in the Summary Branch.He was accused of contributing to the misappropriation by funds of another employee, Narandra Kumar Balabantray. The applicant was charged under Rule-16 of CCS Conduct Rules 1965, with a penalty of recovering Rs.32,923 from his salary. The applicant's appeal against the penalty was rejected by the Appellate Authority.

Challenging the recovery order, Sri Pattnaik filed O.A. No. 260/479/2016 before the Hon'ble Central Administrative Tribunal (CAT), Cuttack. The Tribunal noted that the applicant was not directly responsible for the misappropriation and that other officials shared culpability. The Tribunal referenced previous cases where similar penalties were overturned due to lack of direct culpability and quashed the disciplinary orders against the applicant and directed the refund of the deducted amount with interest vide its Order dated 24.10.2019.

Since then, the Department sat on the above order just filing a writ Petition W P(C) No. 07/2021 before the Hon'ble High Court of Odisha with obtaining any Stay Order or otherwise which was viewed seriously by the Hon’ble CAT, Cuttack during a hearing on 10th October 2025. Hearing both sides, the Tribunal granted two weeks for the respondents to submit the compliance report or any stay order; failure to comply may result in costs or personal appearance scheduled on 3rd November 2025.

Now, on receipt of the personal appearance order with cost, the Department complied the Order dated 24th October 2019 with immediate with instructions to refund the alleged recovered amount.

Similar is the case also of another official namely Sri RN Sahoo. Hats off to both of them for continuing the struggle for last 11 years.

All the above orders are posted here for information and necessary action of / by all such subsidiary offenders.

Regards.

ЁЯЩПЁЯМ╣ЁЯЩП

-B SAMAL-

General Secretary 

Confederation Odisha State CoC 









Monday, October 27, 2025

рмкେрмирм╕рми рмЕрмиୁрмХрмо୍рмкା рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рмЕрмзିрмХାрм░

 


рмкେрмирм╕рми рмЕрмиୁрмХрмо୍рмкା рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рмЕрмзିрмХାрм░ 

рммୃрм╣рм╕୍рмкрмдି рм╕ାрморм▓

рм╕ାрмзାрм░рмг рм╕рмо୍рмкାрмжрмХ 

рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рм╢୍рм░рмоିрмХ рмкрм░ିрм╕ଂрмШ

рмУрмб଼ିрм╢ା рм░ାрмЬ୍рнЯ рм╕рморми୍рн▒рнЯ рм╕рмоିрмдି, рмнୁрммрмиେрм╢୍рммрм░

рмиିрмХрмЯрм░େ рмк୍рм░рмХାрм╢ିрмд рморм░୍рм╕рм░–рм╕ିрмПрмлрмП рмЗрмирм╖୍рмЯିрмЯ୍рнЯୁрмЯ୍ рмЧ୍рм▓ୋрммାрм▓ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмЗрмг୍рмбେрмХ୍рм╕ рнирнжрнирнл, рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмЕрмд୍рнЯрми୍рмд рмжୁрм░୍рммрм│ рмУ рмЕрм╕ୁрм╕୍рме рмкେрмирм╕рми рмк୍рм░рмгାрм│ୀ рмЙрмкрм░େ рмПрмХ рмжୃрмв଼ рмЖрм▓ୋрмХрмкାрмд рмХрм░ିрммା рм╕рм╣ рмдୁрм░୍рмХୀ , рмлିрм▓ିрмкାрмЗрми୍рм╕, рмеାрмЗрм▓୍рнЯାрмг୍рмб рмУ рмЖрм░୍рмЬେрмг୍рмЯିрмиା рм╕рм╣ рмнାрм░рмдрмХୁ рм╕рммୁрмаୁ рмиିрмХୃрм╖୍рмЯ рмк୍рм░рмжрм░୍рм╢рмХାрм░ୀ рмкାрмЮ୍рмЪрмЯି рмжେрм╢ рмормз୍рнЯрм░େ рм╕୍рмеାрмиିрмд рмХрм░ିрмЫି। рмПрм╣ି рм░ିрмкୋрм░୍рмЯ рмЕрмиୁрмпାрнЯୀ рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмЩ୍рмХ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмиିрм░ାрмкрмд୍рмдା рммିрм╖рнЯрм░େ рмжେрм╢ рмПрмХ рмнрнЯାрммрм╣ рмЕрм╕рморми୍рн▒рнЯ рмкрм░ିрм╕୍рмеିрмдିрм░େ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି। рмкୂрм░୍рмм рммрм░୍рм╖рм░ рнкрнк рмЕрмЩ୍рмХрм░ୁ рмЯିрмХିрмП рмдрм│рмХୁ рмЦрм╕ି рмнାрм░рмд рнкрнй.рно‌рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ (рмпାрм╣ା рммିрм╢୍рн▒рм░ рм╣ାрм░ାрм╣ାрм░ି рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рнмрнк.рнлрм░ୁ рмпрмеେрм╖୍рмЯ рмХрмо୍) рм╕рм╣ рммିрм╢୍рн▒рм░ рм╕рммୁрмаୁ рмиିрмо୍рми рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ, рмЕрм░୍рмеାрмд “рмбି” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ рм╕୍рмеାрмиିрмд рм╣ୋрмЗрмЫି। рм╕ିрмЩ୍рмЧାрмкୁрм░୍, рм╣рмЩ୍рмХрмЩ୍рмЧ୍ рмУ рмоାрм▓େрм╕ିрмЖ рмнрм│ି рмПрм╕ିрмЖрм░ рмЕрми୍рнЯ рмжେрм╢рмЧୁрмб଼ିрмХ рмпେрмЙଁрмаି рнорнж.рно, рннрнж.рнм рмУ рнмрнж.рнм рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗрмЫрми୍рмдି, рм╕େрм╣ି рмдୁрм│рмиାрм░େ рмнାрм░рмд рммрм╣ୁрмд рмкрмЫрм░େ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି। ‘рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмдрмдା’ (рнкрнж%), ‘ рм╕୍рмеାрнЯିрмд୍рн▒’ (рнйрнл%) рмПрммଂ ‘рм╕ାрмзୁрмдା’ (рнирнл%) рмнрм│ି рмдିрмиୋрмЯି рмкрм░ିрмоାрмкрмХ рмЙрмкрм░େ рмЖрмзାрм░ିрмд рмоୂрм▓୍рнЯାрмЩ୍рмХрми рмнାрм░рмдୀрнЯ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░ рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рмкାрм░ିрмкାрм░୍рм╢୍рммିрмХ рмк୍рм░рмгାрм│ୀрмХୁ рмк୍рм░рмнାрммିрмд рмХрм░ୁрмеିрммା рмЧрмнୀрм░ рм╕ଂрм░рмЪрмиାрмд୍рмормХ рмжୋрм╖ рмжୁрм░୍рммрм│рмдା рмУ рм╢ାрм╕рмирмЧрмд рмЕрмкାрм░рмЧрмдାрмХୁ рмк୍рм░рмХାрм╢ рмХрм░ିрмЫି ।

 рмкୃрмеିрммୀрм░ рммାрмЙрмирмЯି рмжେрм╢рм░େ рммାрм╕ рмХрм░ୁрмеିрммା рммିрм╢୍рн▒рм░ рм╕рмоୁрмжାрнЯ рмЬрмирм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯାрм░ рмк୍рм░ାрнЯ рмкрмЮ୍рмЪрм╖рмаି рм╢рмдାଂрм╢рмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмЧ୍рм▓ୋрммାрм▓ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмЗрмг୍рмбେрмХ୍рм╕ рнирнжрнирнл рмПрм╣ି рмоୂрм▓୍рнЯାрнЯрми рмХрм░ିрмЫି рмпେрмЙଁрмеିрм░େ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рм╕୍рмеିрмдି рмЕрмд୍рнЯрми୍рмд рмЪିрми୍рмдାрмЬрмирмХ । ‘рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмдрмдା’ ‌рмкрм░ିрмоାрмкрмХ, рмпାрм╣ା рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХрм░ рмЙрмкрмпୁрмХ୍рмд рмЬୀрммрмирмпାрмкрми рмкାрмЗଁ рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХ рмкрмбୁрмеିрммା рмк୍рм░рмХୃрмд рм╕େрммାрмиିрммୃрмд୍рмд рмЖрнЯрм░ рмкрм░ିрмоାрмгрмХୁ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмзାрм░ିрмд рмХрм░େ, рм╕େрмеିрм░େ рмнାрм░рмд рмоାрмд୍рм░ рнйрнк.рнн рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗ рмиିрмо୍рмирмдрмо “рмЗ” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି, рмпାрм╣ା рмк୍рм░рмХାрм╢ рмХрм░େ рмпେ рмЕрмзିрмХାଂрм╢ рмЕрммрм╕рм░рмк୍рм░ାрмк୍рмд рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХ рмпрмеେрм╖୍рмЯ рмЖрнЯ рммିрмиା рммрмЮ୍рмЪିрммାрмХୁ рммାрмз୍рнЯ । рм╕େрм╣ିрмнрм│ି‌ ’рм╕୍рмеାрнЯିрмд୍рн▒’ рмкрм░ିрмоାрмкрмХрм░େ рнкрнй.рно рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕рм╣ିрмд рмнାрм░рмд “рмбି” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି, рмпାрм╣ା рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯ рмХрм░ୁрмЫି рмпେ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмЕрм░୍рмермиୀрмдି рмЖрмЧାрмоୀ рмЬрмирм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯା рммୃрмж୍рмзି рмУ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмЪାрмкрмХୁ рм╕ାрмо୍рмиା рмХрм░ିрммାрм░େ рмЕрм╕рморм░୍рме । рмЕрмзିрмХрми୍рмдୁ ‘рм╕ାрмзୁрмдା’ рмкрм░ିрмоାрмкрмХрм░େ рнлрно.рнк рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕рм╣ рмнାрм░рмд “рм╕ି” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ рмеିрм▓େ рмормз୍рнЯ рмк୍рм░рм╢ାрм╕рмиିрмХ рм╕୍рн▒рмЪ୍рмЫрмдା рмУ рмиିрнЯрморми рм╕рмо୍рмкрм░୍рмХрм░େ рмжୃрмв଼рмдାрм░ рмЕрмнାрммрмХୁ рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯ рмХрм░ିрмЫି ।

рмПрм╣ାрм░ рммିрмкрм░ୀрмд рмнାрммେ, рмормЬрмнୁрмд рмУ рм╕୍рмеାрнЯୀ рмкେрмирм╕рми‌ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеା рмкାрмЗଁ рмиେрмжрм░рм▓୍рнЯାрмг୍рмб୍рм╕ (рнорнл.рнк), рмЖрмЗрм╕рм▓୍рнЯାрмг୍рмб (рнорнк.рнж), рмбେрмирмоାрм░୍рмХ (рнорни.рнй), рм╕ିрмЩ୍рмЧାрмкୁрм░ (рнорнж.рно) рмУ рмЗрм╕୍рм░ାрмПрм▓ (рнорнж.рнй) рмнрм│ି рмжେрм╢рмЧୁрмб଼ିрмХ рмЪрм│ିрмд рммрм░୍рм╖рм░ рм╢୍рм░େрм╖୍рма рмк୍рм░рмжрм░୍рм╢рмирмХାрм░ୀ рмжେрм╢ рмнାрммрм░େ “рмП” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░େ рмеିрммା рм╕рм╣ିрмд рм╕рмормдୁрм▓ рм╣ାрм░ାрм╣ାрм░ି рм╕ୁрммିрмзା рмУ рмжୀрм░୍рмШрмХାрм│ୀрми рмЕрм░୍рмермиୈрмдିрмХ рм╕ୁрм╕୍рмеିрмдି рм╕рм╣ рмЬрмирм╕ାрмзାрм░рмгрмЩ୍рмХ рмнрм░рм╕ା рмЬିрмдିрммାрм░େ рм╕рморм░୍рме рм╣ୋрмЗрмЫрми୍рмдି । рмХିрми୍рмдୁ рмЕрми୍рнЯрмкрмХ୍рм╖рм░େ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеା рмПрмХ рм╕ୀрмоିрмд рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмзାрм░ିрмд рм▓ାрмн рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмУ рмЦрмг୍рмбିрмд рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмзାрм░ିрмд рмЕрммрмжାрми рмк୍рм░рмгାрм│ୀрм░ рмоିрм╢୍рм░рмг। рмнାрм░рмдрм░େ рмПрмо୍рмк୍рм▓ୋрнЯିрмЬ୍ рмк୍рм░ୋрмнିрмбେрмг୍рмЯ рмлрмг୍рмб (рмЗрмкିрмПрмл୍), рмПрмо୍рмк୍рм▓ୋрнЯିрмЬ୍ рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╕୍рмХିрмо (рмЗрмкିрмПрм╕୍) рмУ рм╕େрм╣ିрмнрм│ି рмХିрмЫି рммୃрмд୍рмдିрмЧрмд рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмПрмХ рмЕрм╕рмормдୁрм▓ рм╕ଂрм░рмЪрмиା рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯି рмХрм░ି рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмЩ୍рмХୁ рм╕ାрм░୍рммрмЬрмиୀрми рмдрмеା рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмд рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рмжେрммାрм░େ рммିрмлрм│ । рм░ିрмкୋрм░୍рмЯ рмЕрмиୁрмпାрнЯୀ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмоୋрмЯ рм╢୍рм░рмоିрмХ рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░ рнпрнж% рмиିрнЯୋрмЬିрмд рмеିрммା‌ рмЕрм╕ଂрмЧрмаିрмд рмХ୍рм╖େрмд୍рм░рм░ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЦрм░େ рмиିрм╣ାрмдି рм╕୍рн▒рм│୍рмк рмЕрмерммା рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмиିрнЯрмоିрмд рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╕ୁрммିрмзା рмиାрм╣ିଁ ।

рмнାрм░рмдрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмпୋрмЬрмиାрм░ рмЕрм╕рмлрм│рмдା рмоୂрм│рм░େ рмдିрмиୋрмЯି рмЧୁрм░ୁрмд୍рн▒рмкୂрм░୍рмг୍рмг рмХାрм░рмг рм░рм╣ିрмЫି । рмк୍рм░рмермормдଃ, рмЕрм╕ଂрмЧрмаିрмд рмХ୍рм╖େрмд୍рм░рм░େ рмиିрмпୁрмХ୍рмд рм▓ୋрмХрмЩ୍рмХ рмормз୍рнЯрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╕ୁрммିрмзା рмЕрмд୍рнЯрми୍рмд рм╕ୀрмоିрмд। рмдрме୍рнЯ рмЕрмиୁрмпାрнЯୀ, рмнାрм░рмдрм░େ рммрм░୍рмд୍рмдрмоାрми рмХେрммрм│ рнирнп% рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмкାрмЙрмЫрми୍рмдି । рмж୍рммିрмдୀрнЯрмдଃ, рмжେрм╢рм░ рмЕрм░୍рмермиୈрмдିрмХ рммାрмз୍рнЯрммାрмзрмХрмдା, рмпାрм╣ା рмХ୍рм░рмоାрмЧрмд рмжାрммି рм╕рмд୍рмд୍рн▒େ рмормз୍рнЯ рм╕рм░୍рммрмиିрмо୍рми рм╕ାрм░୍рммрмЬрмиୀрми рмкେрмирм╕рми рмпୋрмЬрмиା рм▓ାрмЧୁ рмХрм░ିрммା‌ рмиେрмЗ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХ рмХ୍рм╖рмормдାрмХୁ рм╕рмЩ୍рмХୁрмЪିрмд рмХрм░ୁрмЫି। рмПрм╣ି‌ рмкрм░ିрмк୍рм░େрмХ୍рм╖ୀрм░େ рммିрм╢େрм╖рмЬ୍рмЮрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмормд рм╣େрм▓ା рмпେ рм╕ିрмЩ୍рмЧାрмкୁрм░ рмпେрмоିрмдି рмиିрмЬрм░ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрмХୁ “рм╕ି” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░ୁ “рмП” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрмХୁ рмЙрм░୍рмг୍рмгୀрмд рмХрм░େрмЗрммାрмХୁ рмжୀрм░୍рмШ рнзрнм рммрм░୍рм╖ рмзрм░ି рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрнЯрмнିрмд୍рмдିрмХ рмЕрм░୍рмермиୈрмдିрмХ рм╕ାрммрмзାрмирмдା рмЕрммрм▓рмо୍рммрми рмХрм░ିрмеିрм▓ା, рмнାрм░рмдрмХୁ рм╕େрм╣ିрмнрм│ି рм╕ୂрмд୍рм░ рмЖрмкрмгେрмЗрммାрм░ рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХрмдା рм░рм╣ିрмЫି। рмдୃрмдୀрнЯрмдଃ, рмоୂрм▓୍рнЯрммୃрмж୍рмзି рмУ рмЪିрмХିрмд୍рм╕ା рмЦрм░୍рмЪ୍рмЪ рммୃрмж୍рмзି рм╕рм╣ିрмд рмЙрмЪିрмд୍ рмоୂрм▓୍рнЯрм╕ୂрмЪୀ рм╕рморми୍рн▒рнЯрм░ рмЕрмнାрмм рмпୋрмЧୁଁ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмоୂрм▓୍рнЯрм░ рмХ୍рм░рмоାрмЧрмд рмЕрммрмирмдି рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмдрмдାрм░ рм╣୍рм░ାрм╕рмХୁ рмк୍рм░рмоାрмгିрмд рмХрм░ୁрмЫି।

рмЬрмирм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯା рммୃрмж୍рмзି рмжୃрм╖୍рмЯିрм░ୁ рмнାрм░рмд рмПрмХ рм╕рмЩ୍рмХрмЯрморнЯ рмкрм░ିрм╕୍рмеିрмдି рмЖрмб଼рмХୁ рмЕрмЧ୍рм░рмЧрмдି рмХрм░ୁрмЫି। । рмнାрм░рмд рмПрмЬିଂ рм░ିрмкୋрм░୍рмЯ рнирнжрнирнй рмЕрмиୁрм╕ାрм░େ рмПрммେ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмЬрмирм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯାрм░ рнзрнж%рм░ୁ рмЕрмзିрмХ рнмрнж рммрм░୍рм╖ рммрнЯрм╕рм░ୁ рмЙрм░୍рмж୍рмзрм░େ рмпାрм╣ା рнирнжрнлрнж рм╕ୁрмж୍рмзା рмжୁрмЗрмЧୁрмгା (рнирнж%) рм╣ୋрмЗ рнйрнк.рнн рмХୋрмЯିрм░େ рмкрм╣рмЮ୍рмЪିрмм। рмкାрм░ିрммାрм░ିрмХ рм╕рм╣ାрнЯрмдା рмУ рм╕рм╣ାрмиୁрмнୂрмдି рм╣୍рм░ାрм╕ рмдрмеା рм╕୍рн▒ାрм╕୍рме୍рнЯ рм╕େрммା рмЕрмд୍рнЯрми୍рмд рморм╣рмЩ୍рмЧା рм╣େрмЙрмеିрммା рм╕рморнЯрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмиିрм░ାрмкрмд୍рмдାрм░ рмЕрмнାрмм рмпୋрмЧୁଁ рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХрмоାрмиେ рмЙрмнрнЯ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмУ рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рмжୃрм╖୍рмЯିрмХୋрмгрм░ୁ рмЕрм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ିрмд рмормиେ рмХрм░ୁрмЫрми୍рмдି। рмПрм╣ି‌ рмкрм░ିрм╕୍рмеିрмдି рмХେрммрм│ рмПрмХ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмпୋрмЬрмиାрм░ рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рммрм░ଂ рмПрмХ рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рми୍рнЯାрнЯ рмУ рмиୀрмдିрмЧрмд рмжାрнЯିрмд୍рн▒рм░ рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми । рмпрмжି рмнାрм░рмд рм╕ୁрм╕୍рме рмУ рм╢рмХ୍рмдିрм╢ାрм│ୀ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеା рмк୍рм░рмЪрм│рми рмХрм░ିрммାрм░େ рмЕрм╕рморм░୍рме рм░рм╣େ, рмдେрммେ рмЦୁрмм рм╢ୀрмШ୍рм░ рмПрм╣ା рмиିଃрм╕рми୍рмжେрм╣рм░େ рмПрмХ “рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмЧрм░ିрмм” рмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмжେрм╢рм░େ рмкрм░ିрмгрмд рм╣େрмм ।

рмЖрми୍рмдрм░୍рмЬାрмдୀрнЯ рмжୃрм╖୍рмЯିрмХୋрмгрм░ୁ‌ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмП рмиିрм╖୍рмХ୍рм░ିрнЯрмдାрмХୁ‌ рм╕рм╣рмЬрм░େ рмПрмбେрмЗ рмжିрмЖрмпାрмЗрмкାрм░ିрмм। “рм╕େрмг୍рмЯ୍рм░ାрм▓ рмк୍рм░ୋрмнିрмбେрмг୍рмЯ рмлрмг୍рмб” рмЬрм░ିрмЖрм░େ рм╕ିрмЩ୍рмЧାрмкୁрм░рм░ рмкେрмирм╕рми‌ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░ рм░ୁрмкାрми୍рмдрм░рмг рмПрм╣ାрм░ рмПрмХ рммрмб рмЙрмжାрм╣рм░рмг। рмПрмХ рмЕрмиିрммାрм░୍рмп୍рнЯ рмУ рм╕рмо୍рмкୂрм░୍рмг୍рмг рмЕଂрм╢рмжାрми рмнିрмд୍рмдିрмХ рмк୍рм░рмгାрм│ୀрм░େ рмЕрммрм╕рм░, рм╕୍рн▒ାрм╕୍рме୍рнЯ рмУ рмЖрммାрм╕ рмнрм│ି рмдିрмиୋрмЯି рмоୂрм│ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ାрмХୁ рм╕ୁрмиିрм╢୍рмЪିрмд рмХрм░ି рм╕ାрм░୍рммрмЬрмиୀрми рмЕଂрм╢рмЧ୍рм░рм╣рмг, рм╕рмаିрмХ рмиିрммେрм╢ рмиୀрмдି рмУ рм╕ୁрмиିрм╢୍рмЪିрмд рмлେрм░рм╕୍рмд рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмнିрмд୍рмдିрм░େ рм╕ିрмЩ୍рмЧାрмкୁрм░ рмЖрмЬି рммିрм╢୍рн▒рм░ рм╢ୀрм░୍рм╖ рм╕୍рмеାрмирм░େ । рм╕େрм╣ିрмнрм│ି рмнାрммେ рмиେрмжрм░рм▓୍рнЯାрмг୍рмб рмУ рмбେрмирмоାрм░୍рмХ рм╢рмХ୍рмдିрм╢ାрм│ୀ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ-рммେрм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рм╕рморми୍рн▒рнЯ, рммାрмз୍рнЯрмдାрмоୂрм│рмХ рм╕рмЮ୍рмЪрнЯ рмПрммଂ рмоୂрмж୍рм░ାрм╕୍рмлୀрмдି рмУ рмЬୀрммрми рмк୍рм░рмд୍рнЯାрм╢ାрмХୁ рмк୍рм░рмдିрмлрм│ିрмд рмХрм░ୁрмеିрммା рмиିрнЯрмоିрмд рм╕рмормпୋрмЬрми рмоାрмз୍рнЯрморм░େ рмЙрмЪ୍рмЪрмдрмо рмкେрмирм╕рми рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмдрмдାрмХୁ рм░рмЦିрмкାрм░ିрмЫрми୍рмдି ।

рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░େ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рмЕрммрмирмдି рмПрмХ рмЕрмХрм╕୍рмоାрмд рмШрмЯрмгା рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рммрм░ଂ рмиୀрмдିрм░ рмиିрм░рми୍рмдрм░ рмЕрммрм╣େрм│ା, рмЦрмг୍рмбିрмд рмХାрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрми୍рн▒рнЯрми рмПрммଂ рм╕рморми୍рн▒ିрмд рмжୀрм░୍рмШрмХାрм│ୀрми рмжୃрм╖୍рмЯିрмХୋрмг рмЕрмнାрммрм░ рмХୁрмкрм░ିрмгାрмо। рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмпрмеା рмк୍рм░рмзାрмирморми୍рмд୍рм░ୀ рм╢୍рм░рмо рмпୋрмЧୀ рмоାрмирмзрми рмУ рмЕрмЯрм│ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмнрм│ି рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмЧୁрмбିрмХрм░େ рмЕрм╕ଂрмЧрмаିрмд рмХ୍рм╖େрмд୍рм░рм░ рмЕрм│୍рмк рмХିрмЫି рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмпୋрмб଼ି рм╣ୋрмЗрмеିрммା‌рммେрм│େ, рммୃрмж୍рмзାрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░େ рм╕рмо୍рмоାрмирм░ рм╕рм╣ рммрмЮ୍рмЪିрммା рмкାрмЗଁ рм╕େрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмЕଂрм╢рмжାрми рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рми рм░ାрм╢ି рмЕрмд୍рнЯрми୍рмд рмЕрм│୍рмк । рмЕрмзିрмХрми୍рмдୁ рмЕрмиେрмХ рммେрм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмиିрмЬ рмЗрмкିрмПрмл୍ рмЯрмЩ୍рмХାрмХୁ рмЪାрмХିрм░ୀ рмХାрм│ рмнିрмдрм░େ рмЙрмаାрмЗ рмиେрмЗ рмЕрммрм╕рм░рмХାрм│ୀрми рмиିрм░ାрмкрмд୍рмдାрм░ рмк୍рм░рмХୃрмд рмЙрмж୍рмжେрм╢୍рнЯрмХୁ рмирм╖୍рмЯ рмХрм░ୁрмЫрми୍рмдି ।

рмПрм╣ି рм╕ଂрмХрмЯрм░ୁ рмоୁрмХ୍рмдି рмкାрмЗрммା рмкାрмЗଁ рмжୃрмв଼ рм░ାрмЬрмиୈрмдିрмХ рмЗрмЪ୍рмЫାрм╢рмХ୍рмдି рмдрмеା рм╕ଂрм╕୍рмеାрмЧрмд рм╕ୁрмзାрм░ рмУ рмкୁрмирм░୍рмЧрмарми рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХ। рмПрм╣ି рмХ୍рм░рморм░େ рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмжрм░ିрмж୍рм░рмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗଁ рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рмПрмХ рми୍рнЯୁрмирмдрмо рм╕ୀрмоା рмк୍рм░рмгрнЯрми рмХрм░ାрмпିрммା рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХ, рмпାрм╣ା рммୃрмж୍рмзାрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░େ рмжାрм░ିрмж୍рм░୍рнЯрм░ୁ рм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рмХрм░ିрмкାрм░ିрмм। рм░ାрмЬ୍рнЯ рм╕рм╣ାрнЯрмдା рмж୍рн▒ାрм░ା рмк୍рм░େрм░ିрмд рмЕрмнିрмирмм рм╕ୂрмХ୍рм╖୍рмо рм╕рм╣рмпୋрмЧ‌ рмпୋрмЬрмиା рмоାрмз୍рнЯрморм░େ рмЕрм╕ଂрмЧрмаିрмд рм╢୍рм░рмоିрмХрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХୁ рмЕрмзିрмХрм░ୁ рмЕрмзିрмХ рмкେрмирм╕рми‌ рмкрм░ିрм╕рм░рмнୁрмХ୍рмд рмХрм░ିрммାрм░ рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХрмдା рмормз୍рнЯ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି। рмкେрмирм╕рми рм▓ାрмнрмЧୁрмбିрмХୁ рмХେрммрм│ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмкାрмЗଁ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ିрмд рм░рмЦି рми୍рнЯୁрмирмдрмо рмк୍рм░рммେрм╢ рммрнЯрм╕ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмзାрм░рмг рмЬрм░ିрмЖрм░େ рмЖрмЧୁрмЖ рмЙрмаାрмг рмиିрм░ୁрмд୍рм╕ାрм╣ିрмд рм╣େрммା рмЙрмЪିрмд। рмкିрмПрмлрмЖрм░рмбିрмП рмЕрмзୀрмирм░େ рмиିрнЯрмоାрмиୁрм╕ୂрмЪрмиାрмХୁ рм╕ୁрмжୃрмв рмХрм░ିрммା рмПрммଂ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмдрм╣рммିрм▓рмХୁ рм╕ାрммрмзାрмирмдାрм░ рм╕рм╣ рмнିрми୍рми рмнିрми୍рми рмХ୍рм╖େрмд୍рм░рм░େ рмиିрммେрм╢ рмкାрмЗଁ рмЕрмиୁрмормдି рмжେрммା рмж୍рн▒ାрм░ା рмЙрмнрнЯ‌ рмнрммିрм╖୍рнЯрмдрм░ рм▓ାрмн рмУ рм╕୍рмеିрм░рмдାрмХୁ рммୃрмж୍рмзି рмХрм░ାрмпାрмЗрмкାрм░ିрмм। рм╕рммୁрмаାрм░ୁ рморм╣рмд୍рмд୍рн▒рмкୂрм░୍рмг୍рмг рмХрмеା рм╣େрм▓ା рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рм╕ାрмХ୍рм╖рм░рмдା рмУ рм╕େрммାрмиିрммୃрмд୍рмдି рмкрм░ିрмХрм│୍рмкрмиା рмкାрмЗଁ рмПрмХ рм░ାрм╖୍рмЯ୍рм░рмм୍рнЯାрмкୀ рм╕рмЪେрмдрмирмдା рмЕрмнିрмпାрми рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХ, рмпାрм╣ା рмжୀрм░୍рмШрмХାрм│ୀрми рм╕рмЮ୍рмЪрнЯрмХୁ рмкрм░ିрммାрм░рм░ рмПрмХ рм╕ାрмзାрм░рмг рмЕрмн୍рнЯାрм╕рм░େ рмкрм░ିрмгрмд рмХрм░ିрмкାрм░ିрмм।

рморм░୍рм╕рм░୍ рмЗрмг୍рмбେрмХ୍рм╕рм░େ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рнкрнй.рно рмЕрмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗрммା рмХେрммрм│ рмПрмХ рм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯାрмд୍рмормХ рмоାрмкрмХ рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рммрм░ଂ рмнାрм░рмдୀрнЯ рм╕рмоାрмЬ рмдାрм░ рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмЩ୍рмХ‌ рмк୍рм░рмдି рмХିрмкрм░ି рм╕рмо୍рмоାрми рмУ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╣ାрм░ рмк୍рм░рмжрм░୍рм╢рми рмХрм░ୁрмЫି, рмдାрм╣ାрм░ рмПрмХ рмиିрмЫрмХ рмк୍рм░рмдିрммିрмо୍рмм। рмоାрми୍рнЯрммрм░ рмЙрмЪ୍рмЪрмдрмо рми୍рнЯାрнЯାрм│рнЯ рм╕рмаିрмХ рмнାрммେ рмжрм░୍рм╢ାрмЗрмЫрми୍рмдି рмпେ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмПрмХ рмжାрми рмХିрмо୍рммା рмЕрмиୁрмХрмо୍рмкାрмоୂрм│рмХ рм╕рм╣ାрнЯрмдା рм░ାрм╢ି рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рммрм░ଂ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмЯିрмП рмиିрмЬрм░ рмпୌрммрми рмХାрм│рм░େ рммрм░୍рм╖ рммрм░୍рм╖ рмзрм░ି рм╕рмоାрмЬ рмУ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХୁ рмжେрмЗрмеିрммା рмкрм░ିрм╕େрммା рммрмжрм│рм░େ рмПрм╣ା рмдାрм░ рмЙрмкାрм░୍рмЬିрмд рм╕ାрмо୍рммିрмзାрмиିрмХ рмЕрмзିрмХାрм░। рмпେрмЙଁ рм░ାрм╖୍рмЯ୍рм░ рмПрмХ рммିрм╢୍рн▒рм╕୍рмдрм░ୀрнЯ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рм╢рмХ୍рмдି рм╣େрммାрмХୁ рмЪାрм╣ୁଁрмЫି, рмдାрм░ рмиାрмЧрм░ିрмХрмоାрмиେ рм╕рмо୍рмоାрми рмУ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рммିрмиା рммрнЯрм╕рм░ рм╕ାрнЯାрм╣୍рмирм░େ рмЕрм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ିрмд рм░рм╣ିрммା рмЖрмжୌ рмЧ୍рм░рм╣рмгрмпୋрмЧ୍рнЯ рмиୁрм╣େଁ। рмдେрмгୁ, рмнାрм░рмдୀрнЯ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░େ рм╕ୁрмзାрм░ рмк୍рм░рм╢ାрм╕рмиିрмХ рм╕ଂрм╢ୋрмзрмирм░ рмЙрм░୍рмж୍рмзрм░େ рмЙрмнрнЯ рмоାрмирм╕ିрмХ рмУ рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХрмдା рмнାрммେ рмжେрмЦାрмпିрммା рмжрм░рмХାрм░। рмкେрмирм╕рмирмХୁ рмПрмХ рм╕ୁрммିрмзା рмнାрммрм░େ рмирмжେрмЦି рмЕрмзିрмХାрм░ рмнାрммрм░େ рмжେрмЦିрм▓େ рм╣ିଁ, рмнାрм░рмд “рмбି” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрм░ୁ рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмк୍рмдрмдା, рм╕୍рмеାрнЯିрмд୍рн▒ рмУ рм╕ାрмзୁрмдାрм░େ “рмП” рм╢୍рм░େрмгୀрмХୁ рм╕рм╣рмЬрм░େ рмкрм╣рмЮ୍рмЪି рмкାрм░ିрмм। рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рмХେрммрм│ рмЬрмгେ рммрнЯрм╕୍рмХрмЩ୍рмХ рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми рмиୁрм╣େଁ, рмПрм╣ା рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рмЖрмд୍рмоା рмУ рмоାрмирммୀрнЯ рморм░୍рмп୍рнЯାрмжାрм░ рмкрм░ୀрмХ୍рм╖ା ।

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Wednesday, October 22, 2025

When Motion Stops

When Motion Stops

- Bruhaspati Samal-

“Without any motion or movement, there is no life.” These words of M.S. Dhoni (Indian Cricketer), though spoken in the context of sports, capture an eternal truth about human existence — that vitality, growth, and renewal come only through constant movement. Yet, for millions of India’s retired government employees — the very hands that built, guarded, and guided the nation through decades of service — this motion has been deliberately frozen. Ironically, on the Pensioners’ Portal of the Government of India itself, these words by Dhoni in addition to similar words by Walt Mossberg (American technology Journalist and Moderator), and Ratan Tata (Former Chairman, Tata Sons) stand as moral inscriptions on life’s continuity. But the government that proudly displays them seems blind to their meaning when it comes to the dignity and survival of its own pensioners.

For two decades now, pensioners across India have been struggling for one simple, legitimate demand — the restoration of the Old Pension Scheme (OPS) and an end to the discrimination perpetuated through fragmented pension policies. The introduction of the National Pension System (NPS) in 2004, and now the Unified Pension Scheme (UPS) from April 2025, has not only dismantled the sense of social security once guaranteed under the Constitution but has also divided the retired community into unequal classes based on arbitrary cut-off dates. The recent move to “validate” different Pension Rules through the Finance Act 2025 further deepens this inequality — treating retirees not as equals under one service, but as subjects of financial experiments.

When Ratan Tata said, “Ups and downs in life are very important to keep us going, because a straight line even in an ECG means we are not alive,” he was speaking about resilience. Yet, the government’s silence and indifference toward pensioners’ struggles over the last twenty years threaten to turn this symbolic “straight line” into a reality — a life without movement, without voice, without recognition. Pensioners have marched, written, pleaded, and protested, most recently in the Parliament March on 10th October 2025, only to find that the corridors of power remain unmoved. 

The contradiction is stark. The same portal that preaches life, motion, and reinvention through Walt Mossberg’s reflection — “I see retirement as just another of these reinventions, another chance to do new things and be a new version of myself” — presides over policies that rob retirees of the financial and emotional stability necessary for such reinvention. How can a pensioner reinvent himself when his pension — his sole means of living — has been reduced to a speculative market investment? How can there be “motion” when the government itself stands as a wall against progress, refusing to correct an injustice that has persisted for two decades? 

The Old Pension Scheme was not merely a financial commitment; it was a moral and constitutional assurance — that those who dedicate their youth to public service would not face insecurity in their old age. The replacement of OPS with NPS, and now the UPS, has transformed that assurance into uncertainty. Under the defined benefit system of OPS, pensioners knew what they would receive; under the defined contribution model of NPS and UPS, they know only what they give, not what they will get. This is not reform — it is abdication of responsibility.

The government’s validation of pension rules through the Finance Act 2025 is an even more worrisome step. It bypasses judicial scrutiny, subverts natural justice, and introduces discrimination among equals — violating the spirit of Articles 14 and 16 of the Constitution. Those who retired before or after certain dates are now treated as separate classes, despite having served under the same conditions and responsibilities. What kind of welfare state divides its elders so deliberately? 

The pension movement is not about politics; it is about dignity. Every protest, every march, every memorandum reflects the desperation of those who once ensured the smooth functioning of this nation — teachers, clerks, engineers, postal employees, railway workers, defense staff, and officers from countless departments. They carried the Republic forward through their labour and loyalty, believing that the State would carry them in their final years. To now deny them that right is to deny the very moral foundation on which a welfare government stands.  

The government must remember that pension is not a charity — it is a deferred wage, a constitutional right recognized by the Supreme Court in the landmark judgment of D.S. Nakara vs. Union of India (1982). The Court held that pensioners form a single class and that arbitrary classification among them is unconstitutional. Yet, the validation clauses in the Finance Act 2025 effectively reverse this principle, creating divisions that the Court itself once struck down. 

It is a matter of deep irony that a government celebrating “Digital India,” “Viksit Bharat,” and “Ease of Living” refuses to extend the same ease and dignity to its retired servants. By ignoring the continuing appeal for OPS restoration and fair pension parity, the government risks alienating one of the most disciplined and morally upright sections of society — its senior citizens who once upheld the machinery of the State.

A humane government must not merely govern the living; it must honour those who have lived for it. The voices of pensioners are not cries of the past — they are a moral mirror for the present. When the motion of life is denied to those who once gave motion to the nation, the Republic itself becomes still.  

It is time the Government of India listens — not with policy briefs, but with conscience. The restoration of the Old Pension Scheme and the removal of discrimination through the Finance Act 2025 are not acts of generosity; they are acts of justice. The pensioners are not asking for favours — they are asking for the continuity of life, the dignity of motion, and the assurance that the government still believes in the very truths it inscribes on its own portal. Because when motion stops, life stops — and when a nation stops listening to its elders, its moral heart stops beating too.

(The author is a Service Union Representative currently working as the General Secretary, Confederation of Central Govt. Employees and Workers, Odisha State CoC and President Forum of Civil Pensioners’ Association, Odisha State Committee, Bhubaneswar and a columnist.)

*****

Monday, October 20, 2025

Lamps Across Letters: Diwali’s Journey from Myth to Mail


Lamps Across Letters:

 Diwali’s Journey from Myth to Mail

-Bruhaspati Samal-

When twilight descends and the first lamps are kindled across courtyards, India rediscovers its oldest metaphor — light as liberation. Diwali, or Dipavali, the “row of lamps,” is not just a festival but a philosophy — a living allegory of illumination over ignorance, virtue over vice, and gratitude over greed. Rooted deeply in the country’s mythological and moral soil, it remains one of humanity’s most enduring celebrations of hope. From the joyous homecoming of Lord Rama to Ayodhya after vanquishing Ravaс╣Зa, to the victory of Lord Krishna over the demon Narakasura, and the worship of Goddess Lakс╣гmi and Kali across regions, Diwali represents the multi-voiced triumph of good over evil. It is at once royal and rural, mythic and moral — a reaffirmation that darkness, whether moral or material, is never permanent. The clay diya thus becomes both symbol and sermon — a small, trembling beacon that teaches resilience.

Every Indian region retells the festival in its own melody. In Bengal, it’s the night of Kali Puja; in Gujarat, business ledgers are closed and reopened with sacred invocation; in Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh, Naraka Chaturdashi signals cleansing from within. Yet, despite varied legends, the underlying rhythm remains universal — purification, prayer, prosperity, and the promise of renewal. In Odisha, the festival carries a unique and graceful imprint. Known as “Badabadua Daka”, it is celebrated by lighting lamps and invoking the ancestors — “BADABADUA HO, ANDHAARE AASITHILA, ALUA RE JAA .....”. The flickering diyas guide departed souls back to their celestial abode after the Pitru Paksha, symbolizing reverence to lineage and continuity of family virtue. Houses and villages glow with the sacred light of remembrance, blending devotion with ecology, as Odias use earthen lamps, natural oils, and floral decorations to sanctify both home and earth. In the land of Lord Jagannath, Diwali is therefore not merely a festival of lights but a prayer for peace among generations — living and departed.

Across the seas, Diwali now glows as a global citizen. From the serene courtyards of Kathmandu to the neon-lit streets of Singapore, from London’s Trafalgar Square to New York’s Times Square, its spirit of light has transcended geography. In multicultural democracies like Canada, Australia, and the United States, the festival is no longer confined to the diaspora; it has entered civic calendars and public consciousness, celebrated by communities of all faiths as an emblem of harmony and shared joy. In 2023, the U.S. even declared Diwali a federal observance in several states — a milestone in cultural diplomacy.

This global recognition has also found a quiet yet profound expression through the humble postage stamp — that small, sticky square which travels the world carrying not just letters but legacies. Various postal departments across the world have honoured Diwali through exquisite philatelic tributes, turning mythology into miniature art. In the United States, the United States Postal Service (USPS) issued its first Diwali “Forever” stamp in 2016 after a seven-year campaign by Indian-Americans. The design, featuring a traditional diya against a shimmering gold background, embodies the festival’s central theme — light conquering darkness, good triumphing over evil. It marked the first time the American postal system officially acknowledged Diwali’s place in the nation’s multicultural identity. Canada Post, too, has celebrated Diwali through multiple stamp releases. In 2017, it issued a joint commemorative stamp with India Post, symbolizing the strong cultural and diplomatic ties between the two nations. Later designs, such as the 2020 issue featuring a radiant diya against a geometric rangoli-inspired background, and the 2023 issue adorned with marigolds and mango leaves — traditional motifs of festivity — brought Indian aesthetic sensibilities into global philatelic art. Singapore Post, in the year 2000, also released a Deepavali stamp showcasing traditional motifs and lotus-inspired patterns. Later issues incorporated silver glitter foil, blending modern printing artistry with the timeless radiance of the festival. Even the United Nations Postal Administration has joined this global homage, issuing special Diwali stamps to honour the festival’s message of peace, unity, and enlightenment — values that transcend national boundaries. And, India Post, the guardian of the nation’s postal heritage, has issued numerous Diwali-themed stamps and special covers over the decades. These feature diyas, rangolis, and festive imagery that mirror the luminous variety of Indian traditions. The 2017 joint issue with Canada Post remains particularly memorable, representing friendship illuminated by shared cultural pride.

Each of these stamps — whether printed in Washington or New Delhi, Toronto or Singapore — is more than a collectible; it is a passport of light, a quiet sermon in miniature, carrying India’s message on civilization to the corners of the world. Through philately, Diwali has become a universal dialogue between cultures — proof that even the smallest lamp, when shared, multiplies its glow.

The morale of Diwali is timeless and tender: illumination is not just physical but moral. The act of lighting a lamp each year is a vow to chase away ignorance, to purify hearts, and to celebrate the victory of compassion over chaos. As communities now seek sustainable celebrations — quieter fireworks, eco-friendly diyas, and shared charity — the festival continues to evolve without losing its essence. 

In the end, when the lamps fade and the night grows silent, what remains is not the memory of fireworks but the warmth of fellowship. Diwali reminds humanity that the most sacred light is not found in lamps or lanterns, but in the human spirit — ever glowing, ever giving. For, in every diya lit, India whispers to the world. Let there be light — within, without, and forever.

(The author is a Service Union Representative and a columnist. Mobile: 9437022669)

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Saturday, October 18, 2025

A Diwali Appeal for Global Peace — Let Every Light End War


Dear Comrades,

This Diwali, as countless lamps illuminate homes and hearts, humanity once again celebrates the triumph of light over darkness, good over evil, and peace over violence. Yet even as our skies sparkle for a few hours, the world continues to burn in the fires of prolonged wars. The joy of Diwali reminds us that light is meant to dispel darkness, not to mirror the flames of destruction that wars have set ablaze across the earth.

Much has been said about firecrackers polluting the air for a single night — a momentary rise of 50 to 100 percent in PM2.5 and AQI levels in many cities. But what remains almost unspoken is the grave and lasting environmental damage caused by continuous wars that scar the planet for years. According to global studies, military activities are responsible for nearly 5.5 percent of total worldwide greenhouse gas emissions — a share greater than the entire civil aviation sector. The Russia–Ukraine war alone has emitted around 230 million tonnes of CO₂-equivalent since 2022, which is equal to the annual emissions of several European countries combined. Similarly, the Israel–Gaza conflict, within its first 120 days, generated between 420,000 and 650,000 tonnes of CO₂-equivalent, and when the future reconstruction costs are considered, the emissions may reach 47 to 61 million tonnes. Added to this are the severe consequences of oil spills, forest fires, chemical contamination, and the collapse of ecosystems and water systems — the invisible wounds of war that linger long after the sound of gunfire fades.

The environmental cost of war cannot be measured in nights but in decades. While the pollution from a festival lasts a day, the pollution from wars poisons generations. Hence, on this sacred Diwali, let every nation, every leader, and every human soul pause and reflect. Let the missiles be silenced and the guns laid to rest. Let humanity replace hatred with harmony and rebuild the earth with compassion. The true celebration of Diwali lies not in bursting firecrackers but in lighting the lamp of conscience that can guide humankind toward peace, prosperity, and planetary healing.

May this Diwali’s divine light shine upon the hearts of all — dissolving darkness, ending wars, and kindling hope for a peaceful, prosperous, and sustainable world.

 Wishing everyone a Luminous and Peaceful Diwali.


-Bruhaspati Samal -

General Secretary 

Confederation of Central Govt Employees and Workers, Odisha State CoC and 

President

Forum of Civil Pensioners' Association 

Odisha State Committee.

Friday, October 10, 2025

National Postal Week Special: Post for People

National Postal Week Special:

Post for People

-Bruhaspati Samal-

 On the crisp morning of 9th October when the world observes World Post Day, humanity pauses to honour the invisible thread that binds us across distances — the post. From the hum of sorting machines to the rhythmic footsteps of postmen on village lanes, the post has always been more than a service — it is an emotion, a trust, and a shared legacy. India Post marks this moment through its National Postal Week, celebrated this year from 6th to 10th October, with each day dedicated to a vital dimension of postal life: Technology, Financial Inclusion, Philately, World Post, and Customer Service. Under the resonant global theme #”PostForPeople: Local Service. Global Reach”, India Post reaffirms its timeless mission — to connect every corner of the nation with care, reliability, and human warmth.

The transformation of India Post today is deeply anchored in technology. On Technology Day (6th October), the Department of Posts celebrates its leap into the digital era with the IT 2.0 – Advanced Postal Technology (APT) project, a Rs.5,800 crore initiative that has modernized postal operations across 1.7 lakh post offices. Hosted on the Government’s MeghRaj 2.0 cloud, APT brings real-time data integration, micro-service architecture, QR-code payments, and OTP-based delivery confirmations, ensuring faster and more transparent services. A revolutionary step, the new DIGIPIN (Digital Postal Index Number) is redefining postal accuracy through a 10-character alphanumeric geo-coded address developed with IIT Hyderabad and ISRO’s NRSC. This innovation assigns each address a digital identity, promising error-free delivery even in the remotest corners. With over 4.6 lakh employees trained and more than 1.9 lakh postmen and Gramin Dak Sevaks armed with mobile and biometric devices, India Post has seamlessly blended human service with digital power. On a single test day, APT handled over 32 lakh bookings and 37 lakh deliveries, a testament to the Post’s readiness for a global, high-volume ecosystem.

If technology forms the backbone, financial inclusion remains the heart of the postal service. On Financial Inclusion Day (7th October), India Post celebrates a quiet revolution reaching the unbanked and underserved through the India Post Payments Bank (IPPB). With more than 12 crore customers, of whom 59 percent are women, IPPB embodies inclusive growth in action. Its network has delivered over one billion doorstep banking services and facilitated transactions worth Rs.13 lakh crore, ensuring that no village remains untouched by digital finance. The Post’s deposit base has approached Rs.20,000 crore, with revenues of over Rs.2,200 crore and profits exceeding Rs.130 crore, marking its financial viability alongside its social mission. In countless rural areas, the post office remains the only accessible banking touch-point, where the trusted postmaster doubles as banker, insurance agent, and pension distributor. As APT and UPI integration expand, rural India is now part of a larger digital economy — proof that the post has not merely survived the fintech wave but has steered it towards inclusivity.

Philately Day (8th October) celebrates the aesthetic and cultural soul of India Post. Stamps are tiny ambassadors of history and heritage, carrying India’s stories across borders. Through “My Stamp”, citizens can now personalize stamps with their own photographs, blending personal memory with national pride. India Post continues to release thematic stamps on events, heritage sites, and eminent personalities, while philatelic exhibitions inspire schoolchildren and collectors alike. What may seem like a fading hobby is in fact a living bridge — connecting generations, nurturing patriotism, and subtly promoting India’s image worldwide. Philately keeps alive the spirit of storytelling, reminding us that every letter is both local and universal — a message from one human being to another.

As the week reaches its heart on World Post Day (9th October), India Post stands tall among global networks as a symbol of trust and inclusiveness. With its #PostForPeople spirit, it not only connects homes but sustains livelihoods. The introduction of OTP-based delivery, revised tariffs, and real-time parcel tracking has given new energy to traditional services. The post office is now an essential logistics partner in India’s booming e-commerce market, empowering artisans, start-ups, and small traders to reach customers worldwide. Behind this modern machinery stand the silent warriors — the postmen and Gramin Dak Sevaks — who travel miles each day through rain, heat, or flood, ensuring that every delivery, however small, reaches its destination. Their service is not driven by profit, but by pride and duty.

The final day, Customer Day (10th October), reflects the most human aspect of the postal system — the enduring relationship between citizens and their Post. Affordable services, accessible branches, and a growing digital interface have kept customer satisfaction high, especially in rural India. The online grievance redressal system, CRM complaint portal, and 24×7 toll-free number demonstrate how India Post listens and adapts to the needs of its users. Beyond technology, however, lies something more profound — trust. In a village, the postmaster may know every family by name; in a city, the postman may deliver medicines to the elderly or exam forms to anxious students. Such personal connection cannot be coded into any app or replaced by any algorithm. It is what keeps the post alive in an age of instant communication.

Each day of the National Postal Week thus tells a chapter of a larger story — of modernization without losing the human touch. Technology strengthens the roots; financial inclusion expands the branches; philately blossoms as cultural heritage; and customer care forms the fragrance of trust. Together, they prove that the postal system remains the truest embodiment of “local service, global reach.”

In the digital storm of automation and speed, India Post stands as a quiet, steady force that connects hearts, families, and generations. It is both the messenger of yesterday and the network of tomorrow. As the theme beautifully reminds us — #PostForPeople: Local Service. Global Reach. — the true measure of progress lies not just in technological efficiency but in the warmth of human connection. Let every World Post Day renew our gratitude and pride in those who make this possible — the men and women of India Post, the custodians of trust, who remind us that no distance is too far when hearts are linked by service. 

(The writer is a Service Union Representative, former All India Organising General Secretary, National Federation of Postal Employees, P-III, CHQ, New Delhi and a Columnist. Mobile: 9437022669)

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Read the article also in SAPOSTS:

https://www.saposts.com/2025/10/national-postal-week-special-post-for.html?m=1

Tuesday, October 7, 2025

рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рмнрммିрм╖୍рнЯрмд

 


рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рмнрммିрм╖୍рнЯрмд 

рммୃрм╣рм╕୍рмкрмдି рм╕ାрморм▓

рм╕ାрмзାрм░рмг рм╕рмо୍рмкାрмжрмХ 

рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рм╢୍рм░рмоିрмХ рмкрм░ିрм╕ଂрмШ

рмУрмб଼ିрм╢ା рм░ାрмЬ୍рнЯ рм╕рморми୍рн▒рнЯ рм╕рмоିрмдି, рмнୁрммрмиେрм╢୍рммрм░

    рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХ рмж୍рм╡ାрм░ା рнзрнм рмЬାрмиୁрмЖрм░ୀ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рмЕрм╖୍рмЯрмо рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧ рмЧрмармирм░ рмШୋрм╖рмгାрмХୁ рмЖрма рмоାрм╕ рммିрмдିрмпାрмЗрмеିрм▓େ рммି, рммрм░୍рмд୍рмдрмоାрми рм╕рмо୍рмкୁрм░୍рмг୍рмг рм╕рм░୍рмд୍рмдାрммрм│ୀ рм╕рм╣ рм░ାрмЬрмкрмд୍рм░ рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдି рмк୍рм░рмХାрм╢ рмкାрмЗрмирмеିрммା рммେрм│େ, рнирнл рмоାрм░୍рмЪ୍рмЪ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢рмХୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рмХрм░ିрммା рмЙрмж୍рмжେрм╢୍рнЯрм░େ рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмПрмХ рмкାрмдрм░рмЕрми୍рмдрм░ рмиୀрмдି рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯି рмХрм░ିрммାрмХୁ рмЪେрм╖୍рмЯା рмХрм░ିрмЫрми୍рмдି। рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнлрм░ рмЕଂрм╢ рммିрм╢େрм╖ рмнାрммେ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ୀрнЯ рммେрм╕ାрморм░ିрмХ рм╕େрммା (рмкେрмирм╕рми୍) рмиିрнЯрмо рмдрмеା рмнାрм░рмд рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХ рм╕рмЮ୍рмЪିрмд рмкାрмг୍рмаିрм░ୁ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмжେрнЯ рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмг рм╕рмо୍рммрми୍рмзୀрнЯ рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдି рмк୍рм░рмХାрм╢ рмкାрмЗрммା рмкрм░େ рмнାрм░рмдрм░ рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмоାрмиେ рмнрнЯрмнୀрмд рм╣େрммା рм╕рм╣ рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рмнрммିрм╖୍рнЯрмд рм╕୍рм╡рм░ୁрмкрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмЕрмиେрмХ рмЖрм╢рмЩ୍рмХା рмк୍рм░рмХрмЯ рмХрм░ିрмЫрми୍рмдି। рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмгрм░ рмПрм╣ି рм╕ିрмж୍рмзାрми୍рмд рмЕрмиୁрмпାрнЯୀ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмиିрнЯрмо рмк୍рм░рмдି рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмкୂрм░୍рммାрмЧ୍рм░рм╣ рммିрмиା рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмЧ୍рм░рм╣рмг рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рм╕େрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмнିрмдрм░େ‌ рмПрмХ рмк୍рм░рмнେрмж рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯି рмХрм░ି рмкାрм░ିрммେ рмпାрм╣ା рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ୀрнЯ рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╕рморнЯрм░ୁ рмЖрм░рмо୍рмн рм╣େрмм। рмПрм╣ି‌ рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмг рнз рмЬୁрми୍ рнзрнпрннрнирм░ୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрмм рмпାрм╣ା рмж୍рн▒ାрм░ା рм╕рмо୍рммିрмзାрмирм░ рмЕрмиୁрмЪ୍рмЫେрмж рнйрнжрнп рмЖрмзାрм░рм░େ рм╕рморнЯାрмиୁрм╕ାрм░େ рм╣ୋрмЗрмеିрммା рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ୀрнЯ рммେрм╕ାрморм░ିрмХ рм╕େрммା (рмкେрмирм╕рми୍) рмиିрнЯрмо, рнзрнпрннрни рмУ рнирнжрнирнз рмПрммଂ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ୀрнЯ рммେрм╕ାрморм░ିрмХ рм╕େрммା (рмЕрм╕ାрмзାрм░рмг рмкେрмирм╕рми୍) рмиିрнЯрмо рнирнжрнирнй рмЕрми୍рмдрм░୍рмЧрмд рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рм╕ଂрм╢ୋрмзିрмд рмиିрнЯрмормЧୁрмбିрмХୁ рмоାрми୍рнЯрмдା рмк୍рм░рмжାрми рмХрм░ିрмм। рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрм░ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рмХେрммେрмаାрм░ୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрмм, рмП‌рмЗ рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рмж୍рммାрм░ା рмХ୍рм╖рмормдାрмк୍рм░ାрмк୍рмд рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмПрммେ рмдାрм╣ା рмормз୍рнЯ рм╕୍рмеିрм░ рмХрм░ିрммେ। 

   рмПрм╣ି‌ рмкрм░ିрмк୍рм░େрмХ୍рм╖ୀрм░େ, рмоାрми୍рнЯрммрм░ рмЙрмЪ୍рмЪрмдрмо рми୍рнЯାрнЯାрм│рнЯрмЩ୍рмХ‌ рмРрмдିрм╣ାрм╕ିрмХ рм░ାрнЯ (рнзрнн рмбିрм╕େрмо୍рммрм░ рнзрнпрнорни, рмбି рмПрм╕୍ рмиାрмХрм░ା рммрмиାрмо рмнାрм░рмд рм╕рм░рмХାрм░)рм░ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмХрм╣ିрмеିрммା рмдିрмиୋрмЯି рмоୂрмЦ୍рнЯ рмХрмеା рмк୍рм░рмгିрмзାрмирмпୋрмЧ୍рнЯ।‌ рмк୍рм░рмермормдଃ, рмкେрмирм╕рми୍‌ рмиିрмпୁрмХ୍рмдିрмжାрмдାрмЩ୍рмХ‌ рмПрмХ рмЗрмЫାрмзିрми рмм୍рнЯାрмкାрм░ рмХିрмо୍рммା рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмжାрми, рмжрнЯା рммା рмЕрмдିрм░ିрмХ୍рмд рмк୍рм░ୋрмд୍рм╕ାрм╣рми рм░ାрм╢ି рмиୁрм╣େଁ। рмПрм╣ା рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрм░ рмиିрмЬ рмпୌрммрми рмХାрм│рм░େ рмХрм░୍рмормжାрмдାрмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗଁ рмиିрм░рми୍рмдрм░ рмкрм░ିрм╢୍рм░рмо‌ рммрмжрм│рм░େ рммୃрмж୍рмзାрммрм╕୍рмеା рмкାрмЗଁ рмЙрмнрнЯ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмУ рм╕ାрмоାрмЬିрмХ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ାрм░ рмПрмХ рмиିрм░୍рмнрм░ рмк୍рм░рмдିрм╢୍рм░ୁрмдି рмУ рмХрм▓୍рнЯାрмгрмоୂрм│рмХ рмкрмжрмХ୍рм╖େрмк।‌ рмж୍рн▒ିрмдୀрнЯрм░େ‌, рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмжିрм╖୍рмЯ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ‌ рмнିрмдрм░େ рмкାрмдрм░рмЕрми୍рмдрм░ рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯି рм╕рмо୍рммିрмзାрмирм░ рмЕрмиୁрмЫେрмж рнзрнкрм░ рм╕ିрмзାрм╕рм│рмЦ рмЙрм▓ଂрмШрми। рмдୃрмдୀрнЯрм░େ, рмПрмХ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмжିрм╖୍рмЯ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмиିрнЯрмо рмкрм░ିрм╕рм░рм░େ рмЖрм╕ୁрмеିрммା рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рмкେрмирм╕рми‌рмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХୁ рмЕрммрм╕рм░‌ рмжିрммрм╕рм░‌ рмЙрм░୍рмж୍рмзрм░େ рмпେрмХୌрмгрм╕ି рм╕ଂрм╢ୋрмзିрмд рмиିрнЯрмо рм╕рмоାрми рмнାрммрм░େ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрммା рмкାрмЗଁ рмормз୍рнЯ рмоାрми୍рнЯрммрм░ рмЙрмЪ୍рмЪрмдрмо рми୍рнЯାрнЯାрм│рнЯрмЩ୍рмХ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмжେрм╢ рм░рм╣ିрмЫି। рмдେрмгୁ рмПрмеିрм░ୁ рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯ рмЕрмиୁрмоେрнЯ рмпେ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХрм░ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ୀрнЯ рммେрм╕ାрморм░ିрмХ рм╕େрммା (рмкେрмирм╕рми୍) рмиିрнЯрморм░େ рмкрм░ିрммрм░୍рмд୍рмдрми рмЖрмгିрммାрмХୁ рмХ୍рм╖рмормдା рмирмеିрммାрм░ୁ, рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХ‌ рмормз୍рнЯрм░େ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмкାрмдрм░рмЕрми୍рмдрм░ рмиୀрмдି рмЖрмкрмгେрмЗрммାрмХୁ рмПрмнрм│ି рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмг рмЖрмгି рмиିрмЬрмХୁ рмиିрмЬେ рмХ୍рм╖рмормдାрмк୍рм░ାрмк୍рмд рмХрм░େрмЗрмЫрми୍рмдି। рмкୁрм░ୁрмгା рмкେрмирм╕рми рмпୋрмЬрмиା (рмУрмкିрмПрм╕୍) рмкрм░େ рмЬାрмиୁрмЖрм░ୀ рнирнжрнжрнкрм░ୁ рмЬାрмдୀрнЯ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмпୋрмЬрмиା (рмПрмирмкିрмПрм╕୍) рмПрммଂ рмЕрмк୍рм░େрм▓ рнирнжрнирнлрм░ୁ рмПрмХୀрмХୃрмд рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмпୋрмЬрмиା (рнЯୁрмкିрмПрм╕୍)рмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмоାрмиେ рмкୂрм░୍рммрм░ୁ рммିрмнାрмЬିрмд рм╣ୋрмЗрм╕ାрм░ିрмеିрм▓ା рммେрм│େ рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнл рмЖрм│рм░େ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмкୁрмиଃ рммିрмнାрмЬିрмд рм╣େрммା рм╕рм╣ рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╣୍рм░ାрм╕ рмУ рммୃрмж୍рмзିрмХୁ рмЧ୍рм░рм╣рмг рмХрм░ିрммାрмХୁ рмХେрм╣ି рмк୍рм░рм╕୍рмдୁрмд рмиୁрм╣рми୍рмдି।

    рмк୍рм░рм╕୍рмдାрммିрмд рмЕрм╖୍рмЯрмо рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рмиିрнЯрмормдଃ рмЖрм╕рми୍рмдା рнз рмЬାрмиୁрмЖрм░ୀ рнирнжрнирнмрм░ୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрммା рмХрмеା। рмХିрми୍рмдୁ, рмпେрм╣େрмдୁ рмЖрнЯୋрмЧ рмПрмпାрмПଁ рмЧрмаିрмд рм╣ୋрмЗрмиାрм╣ିଁ рмПрммଂ рмкୂрм░୍рмм рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХрм░ рмХାрм░୍рмп୍рнЯ рмк୍рм░рмгାрм│ୀрмХୁ рм▓рмХ୍рм╖୍рнЯ рмХрм▓େ рмпାрм╣ା рмЬрмгାрмкрмбେ рмЖрнЯୋрмЧ рмЧрмарми рм╣େрммା рмкрм░рмаାрм░ୁ рмХ୍рнЯାрммିрмиେрмЯ୍ рмЕрмиୁрмоୋрмжрми рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯрми୍рмд рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рмЖрмиୁрм╖рмЩ୍рмЧିрмХ рмк୍рм░рмХ୍рм░ିрнЯା рм╢େрм╖ рм╣େрммାрмХୁ рмЕрми୍рнЯୁрми рмжୁрмЗ рммрм░୍рм╖ рм╕рморнЯ рмжрм░рмХାрм░, рмПрммେ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмормз୍рнЯрм░େ рмЖрм╢рмЩ୍рмХା рмЙрмкୁрмЬିрммାрм░ рмк୍рм░рмермо рмХାрм░рмг рм╣େрм▓ା рмпେ рммେрмдрми‌ рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рмЬାрмиୁрмЖрм░ୀ рнирнжрнирнмрм░ୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ‌ рмирм╣ୋрмЗ рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнл рмж୍рммାрм░ା рмХ୍рм╖рмормдାрмк୍рм░ାрмк୍рмд рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рм╣ୁрмПрмд рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рмжାрмЦрм▓ рмжିрмирмаାрм░ୁ рмХିрмо୍рммା рмХ୍рнЯାрммିрмиେрмЯ୍ рмЕрмиୁрмоୋрмжрми рмжିрмирмаାрм░ୁ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рмХрм░ିрммାрмХୁ рмиିрм╖୍рмкрмд୍рмдି рмиେрммେ рмпାрм╣ା рмж୍рн▒ାрм░ା рм╕େрмоାрмиେ рмкାрмЦାрмкାрмЦି рмжୁрмЗрммрм░୍рм╖рм░ рмЖрм░୍рмеିрмХ рмХ୍рм╖рмдି рм╕рм╣ିрммା рмкାрмЗଁ рммାрмз୍рнЯ рм╣େрммେ рмУ рмж୍рн▒ିрмдୀрнЯ рмХାрм░рмг рм╣େрм▓ା рмпрмжି рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмЙрмкрм░ୋрмХ୍рмд рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдି рмЕрмиୁрмпାрнЯୀ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХୁ рмнାрмЧ рмнାрмЧ рмХрм░ାрмпାрмП, рмдେрммେ рмЕрмиୁрмоୋрмжрми рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрммା рмкୂрм░୍рммрм░ୁ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмиେрмЗрмеିрммା рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рмЕрм╖୍рмЯрмо рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рмоୁрмдାрммрмХ рммୃрмж୍рмзି рмирм╣ୋрмЗ рмХେрммрм│ рмЕрмиୁрмоୋрмжрми рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрммା рмкрм░େ рмпେрмЙଁрмоାрмиେ рмЕрммрм╕рм░‌рмиେрммେ рм╕େрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рмкାрмЗଁ рмк୍рм░рмпୁрмЬ୍рнЯ рм╣େрмм। 

  рмПрм╣ି рмкрм░ିрмк୍рм░େрмХ୍рм╖ୀрм░େ, рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ ‌рмкрмХ୍рм╖рм░ рмдୁрм░рми୍рмд рмк୍рм░рмдିрммାрмж рмпୋрмЧୁଁ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рмкେрмирм╕рми рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀ рмХрм▓୍рнЯାрмг рммିрмнାрмЧ рмдрм░рмлрм░ୁ рм╕୍рн▒ୀрмХୃрмдିрмк୍рм░ାрмк୍рмд рмкେрмирм╕рми рм╕ଂрмШрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рм╕рм╣ିрмд рнирнп рмоାрм░୍рмЪ୍рмЪ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рми рммିрмнାрмЧ рм╕рмЪିрмм рм╢୍рм░ୀ рмнି. рм╢୍рм░ୀрмиିрммାрм╕рмЩ୍рмХ рмЕрмз୍рнЯрмХ୍рм╖рмдାрм░େ рмнିрнЬିрмУ рмХрмирмлрм░େрми୍рм╕ рмоାрмз୍рнЯрморм░େ рмПрмХ рммୈрмармХ рммрм╕ି рмЙрмд୍рмдрм░ рмжିрмЖрмЧрм▓ା рмпେ рмПрм╣ା рмХେрммрм│ рммрм░୍рмд୍рмдрмоାрми рмеିрммା рмкେрмирм╕рми рмиିрнЯрморм░ рмоାрми୍рнЯрмХрм░рмг рмУ рмПрм╣ାрмж୍рн▒ାрм░ା рмкେрмирм╕рми рмиିрнЯрморм░େ рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмк୍рм░рмХାрм░ рм╕ଂрм╢ୋрмзрми рмХрм░ାрмпାрмЙрмиାрм╣ିଁ‌। рм╣େрм▓େ, рммିрммାрмжୀрнЯ рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмг рмиିрнЯрмормХୁ рмдୁрм░рми୍рмд рмк୍рм░рмд୍рнЯାрм╣ାрм░ рмХрм░ିрммାрм░‌ рмЕрмиୁрм░ୋрмзрмХୁ рм╕ିрмзାрм╕рм│рмЦ рмк୍рм░рмд୍рнЯାрмЦ୍рнЯାрми рмХрм░ି рмП рммିрм╖рнЯрм░େ рмПрмХ рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯୀрмХрм░рмг рм░рмЦି рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдି рмЬାрм░ି рмХрм░ିрммାрмХୁ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀ рм╕ଂрмШрмЧୁрмб଼ିрмХୁ рмЙрмкрм░ୋрмХ୍рмд рмЖрмнାрм╕ୀ рммୈрмармХрм░େ рмк୍рм░рмдିрм╢୍рм░ୁрмдି рмжେрмЗрмеିрм▓େ рммି рммିрмЧрмд рмЫрмЕ рмоାрм╕ рмнିрмдрм░େ рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯୀрмХрм░рмг рмжିрмЖрмпାрмЗ рмиାрм╣ିଁ। рмЕрмзିрмХрми୍рмдୁ, рм░ାрм╖рмХୋрм╖ рмЙрмкрм░େ рмЕрм╕୍рмеିрм░рмдା рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯିрм░ рмж୍рн▒ାрм╣ି рмжେрмЗ рмУрмкିрмПрм╕рм░ рмкୁрмиଃ рмк୍рм░рмЪрм│рми рм╕рмо୍рмнрмм рмиୁрм╣େଁ рммୋрм▓ି рнзрнз рмЕрмЧрм╖୍рмЯ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рм▓ୋрмХрм╕рмнା рмдାрм░рмХା рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми рм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯା рнйрнжрнорм░ рмЙрмд୍рмдрм░рм░େ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рмЕрм░୍рмерморми୍рмд୍рм░ୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмЙрмХ୍рмдି рм╕рморм╕୍рмд рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХୁ рмм୍рнЯрмеିрмд рмХрм░ିрмЫି। рмиିрмЬ рмиିрмЬ рм░ାрмЬ୍рнЯрм░େ рмУрмкିрмПрм╕рм░ рмкୁрмиଃ рмк୍рм░рмЪрм│рми рмкାрмЗଁ рмиିрм╖୍рмкрмд୍рмдି рмиେрмЗрмеିрммା рмЫрмдିрм╢рмЧрмб଼, рм╣ିрмоାрмЪрм│ рмк୍рм░рмжେрм╢, рмЭାрмб଼рмЦрмг୍рмб, рмкрмЮ୍рмЬାрмм рмУ рм░ାрмЬрм╕୍рмеାрми рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмоାрмиେ рмПрмирмкିрмПрм╕୍ рмХрм░୍рмкрм╕ рмкାрмг୍рмаିрм░‌ рмк୍рм░рмд୍рнЯାрм░୍рмкрмг рмкାрмЗଁ рмпрмеାрмХ୍рм░рмоେ рнирнирнкрнпрнп.рнорнж, рнзрнзрнзрнзрнз.рнпрнй, рнзрнкрнйрнмрно.рнмрнн, рнйрнзрнпрнмрнж.рнкрнй рмУ рнлрнпрнорнорнк.рнзрнз рмХୋрмЯି рмЯрмЩ୍рмХାрм░ рмжାрммି рмЙрмкрм╕୍рмеାрмкрми рмХрм░ିрмеିрм▓େ рмормз୍рнЯ, рмкେрмирм╕рми୍‌ рмиିрмзି‌ рмиିрнЯାрмормХ рмУ рммିрмХାрм╢ рмк୍рм░ାрмзିрмХрм░рмг рмЕрмзିрмиିрнЯрморм░େ рм╕େрмнрм│ି рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмк୍рм░ାрммрмзାрми рмиାрм╣ିଁ рмХрм╣ି рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рнзрнз рмЕрмЧрм╖୍рмЯ рнирнжрнирнлрм░େ рм▓ୋрмХрм╕рмнା рмЕрмгрмдାрм░рмХା рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми рм╕ଂрмЦ୍рнЯା рнйрнкрнлрнкрм░ рмЙрмд୍рмдрм░ рм░рмЦି рм╕ିрмзାрм╕рм│рмЦ рмк୍рм░рмд୍рнЯାрмЦ୍рнЯାрми рмХрм▓େ рмпାрм╣ା рм░ାрмЬ୍рнЯ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ୀ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХୁ рмПрмХ рм╢рмХ୍рмд рмзрмХ୍рмХା।

         рмПрмнрм│ି рмПрмХ рмШрмбିрм╕рми୍рмзି рмоୂрм╣ୁрм░୍рмд୍рмдрм░େ, рмПрммେ рмк୍рм░рм╢୍рми рмЙрмаେ рмпрмжି рмЕрм╖୍рмЯрмо рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рм▓ାрмЧୁ рм╣େрммା рмжିрмирмаାрм░ୁ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмЕрммрм╕рм░ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмормз୍рнЯрм░େ рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмкାрмдрм░‌рмЕрми୍рмдрм░ рм╕ୃрм╖୍рмЯି рм╣େрммାрм░‌ рмиାрм╣ିଁ, рмдେрммେ рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнлрм░ рмЕଂрм╢ рммିрм╢େрм╖ рмнାрммେ рмПрмнрм│ି рммୈрмзрмХрм░рмгрм░ рмХି рмЖрммрм╢୍рнЯрмХрмдା рмеିрм▓ା? рм╕рм░рмХାрм░рмЩ୍рмХ рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯୀрмХрм░рмг рмУ рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдିрмХୁ рмЕрмкେрмХ୍рм╖ା рмХрм░ିрммା рмм୍рнЯрмдୀрмд рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ рмУ рмкେрмирм╕рмирмнୋрмЧୀрмЩ୍рмХрм░‌ рмЕрми୍рнЯ рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рмЙрмкାрнЯ рмиାрм╣ିଁ рмХିрмо୍рммା рм╕େрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХ рм╕рм╣ рмкୂрм░୍рммрм░ୁ рммାрм░рмо୍рммାрм░ рмпେрмнрм│ି рмШрмЯрмгାрмоାрми рмШрмЯିрмЫି, рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмпେ рмиିрмЬрм░‌ рмк୍рм░рмдିрм╢୍рм░ୁрмдି рмаିрмХ୍ рмаାрмХ୍ рмкାрм│рми рмХрм░ିрммେ рм╕େ рммିрм╢୍рн▒ାрм╕ рммି рмиାрм╣ିଁ। рмЙрмжାрм╣рм░рмг рм╕୍рн▒рм░ୂрмк, рнирнк рмЕрмЧрм╖୍рмЯ рнирнжрнирнкрм░ рмк୍рм░େрм╕ рмЗрм╕୍рмдାрм╣ାрм░рм░େ рмХେрми୍рмж୍рм░ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рнЯୁрмкିрмПрм╕୍‌ рмЕрмзିрмирм░େ рм╕ୁрмиିрм╢୍рмЪିрмд рмкେрми୍‌рм╕рми୍‌, рм╕ୁрмиିрм╢୍рмЪିрмд рмкାрм░ିрммାрм░ିрмХ рмкେрми୍‌рм╕рми୍‌ рмУ рм╕ୁрмиିрм╢୍рмЪିрмд рм╕рм░୍рммрмиିрмо୍рми рмкେрмирм╕рми୍‌ рмпୋрмЧେрмЗ рмжେрммାрмХୁ рмХрм╣ି рнирнл рмЬାрмиୁрмЖрм░ୀ рнирнжрнирнлрм░ рм░ାрмЬрмкрмд୍рм░ рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдିрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рммрмжрм│рм░େ рмкେрмЖрмЙрмЯ୍ рм╢рмм୍рмж рмм୍рнЯрммрм╣ାрм░‌ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀрмЩ୍рмХ рмЙрмкрм░େ рмЬୋрм░рмЬрммрм░рмжрм╕୍рмдି рмПрмХ рмнିрми୍рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеା рм▓рмжି рмжେрмЗрмЫрми୍рмдି। рмЕрм░୍рмеାрмд рнЯୁрмкିрмПрм╕рм░ рмк୍рм░рмЪрм│рми рмж୍рм╡ାрм░ା рмкେрмирм╕рми рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеା рмЙрмЪ୍рмЫେрмж рм╣ୋрмЗ рмПрммେ рмкେрмЖрмЙрмЯ୍ рмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░ рмЕрнЯрмоାрм░рмо୍рмн рм╣େрм▓ା рмпାрм╣ା рмПрмирмкିрмПрм╕୍ рмЙрмкрмнୋрмХ୍рмдାрмоାрмирмЩ୍рмХрм░ рмПрмХ рмЗрмЫାрмзିрми рмм୍рнЯାрмкାрм░। рнйрнз рмЕрмЧрм╖୍рмЯ рнирнжрнирнл рм╕ୁрмж୍рмзା рмЕрми୍рнЯୁрми рнирнй рм▓рмХ୍рм╖ рмЙрмкрмнୋрмХ୍рмдା рмПрмирмкିрмПрм╕рм░ୁ рнЯୁрмкିрмПрм╕рмХୁ рмпିрммାрмкାрмЗଁ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмЖрм╢ା рм░рмЦିрмеିрм▓େ рмормз୍рнЯ, рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ାрм░େ рмж୍рн▒рми୍рмж рмУ рм╕ଂрм╢рнЯ рмпୋрмЧୁଁ рмоାрмд୍рм░ рнйрнзрнлрнлрнл рмЬрмг (рнз.рнйрнн%) рм▓ିрмЦିрмд рмЗрмЫାрмкрмд୍рм░ рмк୍рм░рмжାрми рмХрм░ିрмЫрми୍рмдି, рмпେрмЙଁрмеିрмкାрмЗଁ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмЗрмЫାрмкрмд୍рм░ рмк୍рм░рмжାрми рмХрм░ିрммାрм░ рм╢େрм╖ рмдାрм░ିрмЦрмХୁ рнйрнж рм╕େрмк୍рмЯେрмо୍рммрм░ рнирнжрнирнл рмкрм░୍рмп୍рнЯрми୍рмд рммୃрмж୍рмзି рмХрм░ିрммା рм╕рм╣ рм╕рмо୍рмкୂрм░୍рмг୍рмг рмЪାрмХିрм░ୀ рмХାрм│рм░େ рмоାрмд୍рм░ рмерм░ୁрмЯିрмП рмкେрмирм╕рми рмпୋрмЬрмиାрм░େ рмЕрмжрм│рммрмжрм│ рмХрм░ିрммା‌ рмкାрмЗଁ рм╕ୁрмпୋрмЧ рмк୍рм░рмжାрми рмХрм░ିрмЫрми୍рмдି рмпାрм╣ା рмкୂрм░୍рммрм░ୁ рмиିрм╖ିрмж୍рмз рмеିрм▓ା। 

   рмЧୋрмЯିрмП рмЧрмгрмдାрми୍рмд୍рм░ିрмХ рмжେрм╢рм░େ рмПрмХ рмиିрм░୍рммାрмЪିрмд рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмиିрмЬେ рмиିрмЬрм░ рмк୍рм░рмдିрм╢୍рм░ୁрмдି рм╕рм╣ рм╕ାрмо୍рммିрмзାрмиିрмХ рммିрмзିрмм୍рнЯрммрм╕୍рмеାрм░‌ рмЙрм▓ଂрмШрми рмУ рмоାрми୍рнЯрммрм░ рмЙрмЪ୍рмЪрмдрмо рми୍рнЯାрнЯାрм│рнЯрмЩ୍рмХ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмжେрм╢рм░ рмЕрммрмоାрмирмиା рмХрм░ିрммା рмЧрмгрмдрми୍рмд୍рм░ рмк୍рм░рмдି рмПрмХ рмХрмаୋрм░ рмЙрмкрм╣ାрм╕ рмХрм╣ିрм▓େ рмЕрмд୍рнЯୁрмХ୍рмдି рм╣େрммрмиାрм╣ିଁ। рмдେрмгୁ рмкେрмирм╕рми୍ рм╕ଂрм╢ୋрмзрмирм░େ рмПрммଂ рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрмЩ୍рмХ рм╕ୁрмкାрм░ିрм╢ рм▓ାрмЧୁрм░େ рммିрмд୍рмд рммିрмзେрнЯрмХ рнирнжрнирнлрмХୁ рмиେрмЗ рмПрммେ рм╕рм░рмХାрм░ рмХୋୖрмгрм╕ି рмкାрмдрм░рмЕрми୍рмдрм░ рмиୀрмдି рм░рм╣ିрмм рмиାрм╣ିଁ рммୋрм▓ି рмпେрмЙଁ рм╕୍рмкрм╖୍рмЯୀрмХрм░рмг рмжେрмЗ рммିрмЬ୍рмЮрмк୍рмдି рмЬାрм░ିрмХрм░ିрммା рмХрмеା рмХрм╣ୁрмЫрми୍рмдି, рмнрммିрм╖୍рнЯрмдрм░େ рмкେрмирм╕рмирм░ рм╕ୁрм░рмХ୍рм╖ା рмжୃрм╖୍рмЯିрм░ୁ рм╕େрм╕рммୁ рмЕрм╖୍рмЯрмо рммେрмдрми рмЖрнЯୋрмЧрм░ рмиିрм░୍рмж୍рмзାрм░ିрмд ‌рм╕рм░୍рмд୍рмдାрммрм│ୀрм░େ рм╕୍рмеାрмиିрмд рмХрм░ିрммାрмХୁ рмХрм░୍рмормЪାрм░ୀ ‌рмкрмХ୍рм╖рм░ୁ рмжାрммି рмЬୋрм░рмжାрм░‌ рм╣େрмЙрмЫି। 

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Denying OPS not fiscal prudence but fiscal injustice

 

Denying OPS not fiscal prudence but fiscal injustice 

- Bruhaspati Samal -

The pension struggle in India is not merely a question of economics; it is a question of justice, of equality, and of the very soul of a welfare State. Since 2004, when the Old Pension Scheme (OPS) was dismantled and replaced with the National Pension Scheme (NPS), a storm of discontent has been brewing among employees and retirees. That storm has only intensified with the introduction of the Unified Pension Scheme (UPS) from April 2025 — a so-called “hybrid” model of OPS and NPS which in reality offers nothing more than an “option for payout, not pension.” Added to this betrayal is the Finance Act 2025, which retrospectively validates pension rules and arrogates to the Government unchecked powers to classify and differentiate among pensioners. Together, these moves have ignited a nationwide cry: restore the dignity of pension, restore justice to the workforce.

The Finance Act 2025 has struck at the very roots of equality. Chapter V, Part IV, Clauses 147 to 150 empower the Central Government to distinguish between pensioners on the basis of retirement date or Pay Commission recommendations. It declares that pension rules — the Central Civil Services (Pension) Rules, 1972, the CCS (Pension) Rules, 2021, and the CCS (Extraordinary Pension) Rules, 2023 — shall be deemed to have been in force since June 1, 1972. More dangerously, it asserts the Government’s absolute right to classify pensioners, to make or maintain distinctions among them, and to decide from which date revised pensions will apply. In other words, equity among equals — the very principle of justice — stands trampled under statute.

But the Constitution does not permit such injustice. The Supreme Court, in its historic judgment of D.S. Nakra vs Union of India (17th December 1982), held that pension is not a bounty or charity, but a deferred wage, a right attached to service rendered. The Court ruled that all Government servants under the same scheme form one homogeneous class, and any cut-off date to differentiate among them is unconstitutional. It further directed that pension revisions must extend equally to all, irrespective of retirement date. By ignoring this binding verdict, the Finance Act 2025 mocks the judiciary, mocks Article 14 of the Constitution, and mocks the very promise of equality.

For nearly two decades, since the advent of NPS in 2004, lakhs of employees and pensioners have fought relentless battles, demanding restoration of OPS. Their demand was clear: security in old age, protection against inflation, and dignity of life. Yet, instead of listening, the Union Government in April 2023 appointed a Committee not to consider OPS but to “improvise” NPS. From its recommendations was born the UPS, approved by Cabinet on 24th August 2024, which promised “Assured Pension, Assured Family Pension, and Assured Minimum Pension.” But the Gazette Notification issued on 25th January 2025 quietly replaced the word *pension* with *payout*. What was promised as pension security was reduced to payout uncertainty. UPS thus became nothing more than a hollow option under NPS, stripping away the very essence of social security.

The employees saw through this deception. Out of the 23 lakh employees expected to benefit under UPS, only 31,555 (1.37%) opted for it by 20th July 2025 (Lok Sabha Unstarred Question No.1152, answered on 28th July 2025). This massive rejection reflected the deep mistrust — over corpus sustainability, payout mechanisms, and lack of indexation. In OPS, pension means lifelong, inflation-linked income with family protection. UPS reduces it to a gamble with savings. No wonder employees turned away. Faced with this humiliation, the Government extended the option deadline to 30th September 2025 and on 25th August 2025 allowed a one-time switch back to NPS before retirement. But the damage was already done — faith had collapsed.

When confronted in Parliament, the Finance Minister on 11th August 2025 (Lok Sabha Starred Question No.308) bluntly ruled out OPS restoration, branding it “unsustainable fiscal liability.” This argument, however, crumbles before cold statistics. Between 2014 and 2024, the Government wrote off Rs.14.56 lakh crore in corporate bad loans and handed out lakhs of crores more as tax incentives to industries. Yet, the annual pension bill with OPS restored is only 0.9% of GDP. If the exchequer can indulge corporates with trillions, why is the worker’s rightful pension suddenly unaffordable? The truth is clear: fiscal prudence is a mask, fiscal injustice the reality.

Meanwhile, States like Chhattisgarh, Himachal Pradesh, Jharkhand, Punjab, and Rajasthan have formally decided to revert to OPS and sought refund of NPS corpus from the Centre. As of 31st July 2025, they demanded enormous sums: Rs.22,499.80 crore (Chhattisgarh), Rs.11,111.93 crore (Himachal Pradesh), Rs.14,368.67 crore (Jharkhand), Rs.31,960.43 crore (Punjab), and Rs.50,884.11 crore (Rajasthan). The Centre’s curt reply (Lok Sabha Unstarred Question No 3454 answered on 11th August 2025) was that the PFRDA Act, 2013 and related regulations prohibit refund of accumulated corpus. Thus, lakhs of State employees remain trapped within NPS, against both their will and their State Governments’ decisions. This is not just administrative rigidity; it is a direct assault on the spirit of federalism.   

The employees and pensioners’ associations have long been advocating for a guaranteed, non-contributory old pension scheme (OPS). Their demand is not an unreasonable one. A fair pension system ensures that retirees are not forced to depend on their children or charity in their old age. By opposing this legislation, organizations such as the Centre of Indian Trade Unions (CITU), the National Coordination Committee of Pensioners' Associations (NCCPA) and the Forum of Civil Pensioners’ Association (FCPA) are fighting for the fundamental rights of India’s elderly citizens organizing massive human rallies and demonstrations at all levels, conventions and seminars in the state capitals including submission of memorandums to all concerned (PMO, Finance Ministry etc) through respective Governors and MPs. The government must listen to these voices and scrap the provisions of the Finance Act 2025 that promote discrimination among pensioners. The government must reconsider its approach and ensure that pensioners, who have dedicated their lives to public service, are not left abandoned in their twilight years.

 This is not just a policy debate; it is a battle for dignity. The pensioner sitting at home is not begging for alms, but asking for his rightful wage deferred over decades of service. The young employee entering service is not seeking luxury, but security for the twilight years. Pay and pension are not fiscal burdens — they are lifelines, the oxygen of survival. To deny them is to betray workers, to betray justice, and to betray the Constitution.

A democracy that divides its servants into privileged and deprived cannot survive. A State that tramples the rights of its own employees while showering largesse on corporations is not a welfare State — it is a corporate State. Let it be remembered: a nation that betrays its workers betrays its very soul.

(The author is a Service Union Representative currently working as the General Secretary, Confederation of Central Govt. Employees and Workers, Odisha State CoC and President Forum of Civil Pensioners’ Association, Odisha State Committee, Bhubaneswar and a columnist. Mobile: 9437022669)

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Friday, October 3, 2025

The Hands That Build the Nation



Courtesy: SHRAMIK BARTA (Journal of NALCO Employees Central Union)

The Hands That Build the Nation

Bruhaspati Samal

General Secretary

Confederation of Central Govt. Employees and Workers

Odisha State Coordination Committee, Bhubaneswar

eMail: bsamalbbsr@gmail.com


They rise before dawn, their dreams still wrapped in darkness, and step into a world that rarely notices their existence. Their hands are calloused, their backs bent, their spirits heavy with the weight of survival. They are the farmers who draw life from dry soil to feed millions yet often go to bed hungry themselves. They are the brick kiln workers, their faces scorched by relentless heat, shaping the very bricks that build our cities. They are the women in garment factories, stitching for hours under dim lights to clothe a nation, even as their own families struggle. From construction sites and factories to fields and fisheries, these workers are the foundation on which India’s progress stands. And yet, they remain unseen, unheard, and unprotected—the silent architects of our prosperity. 

India’s economic story cannot be told without them. From Odisha’s small industries to the massive industrial hubs of Gujarat and Maharashtra, it is the sweat and labour of millions of workers that fuels our GDP, keeps factories running, lays highways, erects towers, and feeds our cities. The magnitude of their contribution is staggering. As per the Periodic Labour Force Survey for 2023–24, 58.4 percent of the workforces were self-employed, 21.7 percent were paid regular wages, and 19.8 percent worked as casual labourers. Economists note that 57.3 percent of India’s workforce is self-employed, and a further 18.3 percent are unpaid workers in household enterprises. Nearly 94 percent of workers operate in the unorganised sector. In Odisha, this reality is starker—92 percent of its 1.75 crore working population belongs to the unorganised sector, as per the state’s Unorganised Workers’ Social Security Board. Though informal, their labour sustains agriculture, industry, services, and infrastructure—the very pillars of Odisha’s economy. These numbers reflect a sprawling workforce that remains largely informal, vulnerable, and deprived of basic safeguards, while generating the invisible engine of our economy.

Despite their indispensability, millions of workers endure low, erratic income with little assurance of stability. In the April–June quarter of 2024, rural salaried workers earned approximately Rs.17,033 a month, with wages averaging Rs.18,200 for men but only Rs.12,396 for women; in urban areas the averages were Rs.24,434, Rs.26,105 for men, and Rs.19,879 for women. Casual labourers fared worse: rural daily earnings hovered around Rs.417 (Rs.444 for men, Rs.299 for women), and urban earnings at Rs.516 (Rs.537 for men, Rs.364 for women). In Odisha, as of October 2024, the minimum daily wage for unskilled work is Rs.452 (Rs.11,752 monthly), for semi-skilled Rs.502, and for skilled Rs.552 per day. These amounts stretch thin across families striving for survival, especially during inflationary times. Governmental apathy extends beyond policy delays. Enforcement of even the most basic protections like minimum wages is deeply inadequate. Across India, 42% of wage earners earn less than the legally mandated minimum. In rural Odisha, women workers and casual labourers are the most vulnerable. Inspection systems are weak, grievance redressal mechanisms are ineffective, and revisions to wages and benefits are painfully slow. Employers exploit these gaps, society turns away from uncomfortable realities, and the media often overlooks their plight unless tragedy strikes.

Their struggles are not limited to meagre wages. Exploitation comes in many forms—long working hours, unsafe environments, denial of leave, harassment based on caste, gender, age, or education, and the absence of basic benefits like provident fund and medical coverage. In Gujarat’s ceramic hub of Morbi, a survey of 2,000 workers revealed that 92% lacked provident fund benefits, 93% had no ESIC coverage, and 90% received no payslips. These figures are not isolated but reflective of a deeper systemic failure. In Delhi, 1,500 sanitation workers serving over 250 schools went unpaid for five months, pushing families into unbearable financial distress. Across the country, over 15 million brick kiln workers—many in Odisha—labour in extreme heat, often risking their health and lives because their meagre hourly wages depend on unbroken toil.

Amid these hardships, the government’s labour policy shifts have added uncertainty rather than relief. The withdrawal of 44 existing labour laws and their replacement by four new labour codes though said to be intended to simplify and strengthen protections for workers, yet, the move favours employers by diluting provisions on wages, working hours, occupational safety, and social security. While the Code on Wages, 2019 came into effect in December 2020, key sections remain unimplemented, and the other three codes—on Occupational Safety, Social Security, and Industrial Relations—are still in limbo. Without proper execution and transparent mechanisms, workers are left in a legal grey zone where their rights exist on paper but not in practice. Add ing salt to injury, the Government of Odisha has amended the Factories Act through the Odisha Factories (Amendment) Rules, 2025, officially notified in the Extraordinary Gazette on 28 July 2025 which permits registered factories in the state to employ women during night hours—between 7:00 PM and 6:00 AM—subject to a framework of mandatory safety measures and consent protocols. While the amendment aims to align with evolving labour practices and the progressive elements of the yet-to-be-notified central Labour Codes, it has also reignited a nationwide debate over the nature and direction of such reforms.

While India’s Constitution promises dignity, equality, and justice, the gap between rights and reality is widening. Article 14 guarantees equality before law, yet caste-based discrimination in employment persists. Article 19(1)(c) grants workers the right to form associations and unions, yet unionisation faces systemic resistance. Article 21 guarantees the right to life, which the Supreme Court has repeatedly interpreted to include the right to safe and dignified work, but unsafe factories, mines, and kilns tell another story. Articles 23 and 24 prohibit forced and child labour, yet bonded labour continues in parts of Odisha and other states. The Directive Principles of State Policy further direct the government to secure living wages, humane working conditions, social security, and participation of workers in industrial management, but these remain aspirations rather than realities. Judicial pronouncements have repeatedly upheld the dignity of labour. In Randhir Singh v. Union of India (1982), the Supreme Court declared that “equal pay for equal work” flows from the Constitution itself. In People’s Union for Democratic Rights v. Union of India (1982), non-payment of minimum wages was equated to forced labour. In Charan Lal Sahu v. Union of India (1990), the Court expanded Article 21 to include workplace health and safety. Yet, without effective implementation, these rulings remain ideals rather than lived guarantees for millions.

Despite the grim picture, there is still hope—but only if all stakeholders act decisively. The government must implement existing laws fully, enforce minimum wages, and ensure social security coverage for both organized and unorganized workers. Employers must realize that fair pay, humane conditions, and occupational safety are not liabilities but investments in productivity and national progress. Society, too, must shed its indifference and recognize that dignity for workers is inseparable from the nation’s dignity. Trade unions and civil society organizations must strengthen awareness campaigns, enabling workers to claim their constitutional rights and protect themselves from exploitation.

Every brick laid, every garment stitched, every grain harvested is a reminder that workers are not mere economic units—they are human beings whose lives, dreams, and dignity matter. A nation built by their hands cannot afford to turn its back on them. If we continue to ignore their suffering, we risk eroding the very foundations of India’s growth. The time has come to act—not tomorrow, not in the next policy cycle, but now. It is not charity we owe our workers; it is justice. India’s progress will remain incomplete until its workers are secure, respected, and empowered. When the hands that build the nation are protected, the nation itself stands stronger, taller, and prouder.

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