Central Mirror
A rhinoceros moving from flooded grassland to higher ground does not know when it crosses a national park boundary. That fact should anchor debate over Assam's plan to propose an approximately one kilometre Eco-Sensitive Zone (ESZ) around Kaziranga National Park and Tiger Reserve. Public discussion has hardened into one kilometre versus ten. The consequential question is: which areas beyond Kaziranga's boundary become indispensable to the park when the Brahmaputra rises?
It was 2014; TERI University was at its peak, with exceptional intellectual capital, impactful projects, and a leadership position in sustainability education. Each year, we held faculty meetings away from campus to strategise for the University, with team building as a co-benefit. That year, I was asked to give a presentation on the future of higher education. At that time, I was younger, and the integration of IT into daily life was just beginning—it was still predominantly the 3G era.
A monsoon can be statistically weak but catastrophically destructive. This paradox is unfolding across India in 2026. When the India Meteorological Department (IMD) had predicted below-normal rainfall during August, with rainfall projected at less than 94% of the Long Period Average, communities across the country were simultaneously confronting flash floods, landslides, river flooding, and episodes of extraordinary rainfall. By early August 2026, the monsoon had already produced damaging extremes from the Himalayas to the Western Ghats and the Brahmaputra floodplains.
Every day, millions of households across India throw away their waste without a second thought. A banana peel, a plastic bottle, leftover food, a used tissue, and broken glass—all tossed into the same dustbin. It seems harmless. But this single act is quietly undermining India's circular economy. India generates nearly 160 million tonnes of municipal solid waste, and this figure is projected to rise drastically over the coming decades. While this growing mountain of waste is often portrayed as an environmental crisis, it also represents an enormous economic opportunity.
Once, Costa Rica watched its forests disappear beneath logging, agriculture, and cattle ranching. Yet the country chose to write a different ending: protecting natural landscapes, rewarding landowners for conserving forests, and giving nature the time and space to heal. Slowly, the green canopy returned, bringing with it wildlife, water security, and livelihoods rooted in ecotourism.
I still remember a day at IP University when the Vice Chancellor, Prof. K.K. Aggarwal, shared something that has stayed with me ever since. He said that in designing critical systems, such as space technology, we never set the probability of failure to zero. If we do, the solution becomes infinite—impossible to achieve. That moment revealed a deep, uncomfortable truth about science. It deals in probabilities, not necessary certainties. And perhaps that is exactly why the public so often shrugs off its most terrifying scientific prophecies.
It was April 2024, the peak of India’s general elections. The air was thick with promises—each political party vying to lure voters with its own definition of Vikas. Some showed off GDP rankings, others offered monthly stipends for women, and still others promised more reservations. The cacophony was everywhere—on television, in newspapers, and in the minds of my students. I walked into my MA in Public Policy classroom intending to teach the concept of optimum population, starting with Malthusian and Marxian theories.
The monsoon has once again arrived, and with it, the familiar ritual of civic despair. As an engineer and a common citizen, I watch our cities—Mumbai, Bengaluru, Delhi—drown under rainfall that, historically, is entirely normal. Today, I have chosen to write this piece at home, fearing going to the office due to traffic congestion caused by waterlogging. This is not an act of nature's fury; it is an indictment of our planning. The newly inaugurated stretch of the Mumbai-Pune Expressway has developed cracks and water seepage in its tunnels.
In the quiet corners of India’s engineering colleges, a crisis is brewing, and it goes beyond issues of attendance or grades; it is a crisis of competence. For years, the Indian engineering degree has been marketed to parents as a guaranteed pathway to success. However, from my three decades of teaching and observing thousands of graduates, I have realised an uncomfortable truth: we are producing degree holders, not true engineers. When I compare the engineers of the 1950s to 1970s with those of today, it becomes clear that our current system is failing in terms of practical wisdom.
As India dreams of being the ‘Vishwa Guru’ and charts its path to a $10 trillion economy, a silent implosion is taking place in the labs, fields, and urban slums of the nation. We are witnessing the slow, painful atrophy of a sector that has historically acted as the shock absorber for our democracy and the sharpest tool for our growth: the non-profit, grassroots, and private autonomous research ecosystem.
In August 2025, the Supreme Court delivered a harsh criticism - not just to a state government, but to a mindset that has quietly become the norm across India's economy. Assistant professors in Gujarat, the Court noted, had been drawing a mere ₹30,000 per month since 2012 while their permanent counterparts earned over ₹1 lakh for identical work. "It is disturbing," the bench observed. "It is high time that the state takes up the issue."
It has always been a matter of perspective. Half-empty or half-full, in the psychiatrist’s lingo. This applies to what the anthroposphere regarded as wastes not so very long ago. Half-empty has become half-full now with the onset of the circular economy. This is truer of course in the western world which has leapfrogged in the 21st century with new technologies and investments in research and development in improving resource use efficiency – resources of all kinds, energy or material, biotic or abiotic, stock or fund or even flow.
United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) report titled ‘Drowning in Plastics’ states, of the 9.2 billion tonnes (Gt) of plastics made in the 67-year period (1950-2017)
Ecological restoration is widely treated as an unquestioned public good in the face of climate change, desertification, and biodiversity loss.
As India aims to reduce GHG emissions by 45% by 2030, boost clean energy usage, and enhance carbon sinks, there is a rising interest in the ways of achieving these goals. On a global scale, India has promoted initiatives like Mission LiFE and the Panchamrit commitments at COP26.
India has been making dedicated efforts to introduce policies and schemes that promote achievement of sustainable development goals. However, at times, conflicts and trade-offs arise when using a sectoral approach to policymaking to pursue these goals.
A thriving civilization produces waste as a byproduct of its activities. If this waste is not adequately managed, it can lead to accumulation problems. History has shown that this accumulation of waste can devastate human lives, often resulting in health crises.
Water sustainability challenges are widely acknowledged, yet effective strategies to address them are urgently needed. While local approaches play a crucial role, it is essential not to overlook broader macro-level policies. Regulatory, fiscal, and market-based instruments drive these policies, each offering unique advantages and disadvantages.
India has a pivotal position among the global superpowers in terms of military strength, space research, culture and traditional heritages. When the country is aiming for a leadership position through deepened co-operations, it is swiftly pacing on a trajectory to rapid economic development through growing markets and improved value chains.
Given the socio-ecological, environmental, and economic imperativesof plastic waste management, the Indian government introduced the policy of extended producer responsibility (EPR) through Plastic Waste Management Rules, 2016.
Corporates, being major producers and consumers of goods, generate a significant amount of waste, and can take responsibility for managing the waste by participating with local authorities. However, there are five key areas where corporates can have a major impact in the management of solid wastes.