Delhi police teared apart constitution's preamble after snatching from the hands of advocate Swati Shokeen Malik.
Source - https://www.instagram.com/reel/DeUKYgrSOAz/
Swati Shokeen Malik : https://x.com/SwatySMalik
All this to safeguard one Gyanesh Kumar.
Words of haryanvi language (deswali) used in villages of Delhi,Haryana and west up and other . Some words may be different according to place.
Regions identified with high technological advancements, better society standards and literacy have higher number of public libraries.
Our regions seem to be low on them.
How can he post someone's video on internet without consent. That woman is clearly uncomfortable.
He even posted videos of minor girls on his page mahez_star on insta.
He claims to be from Patkhauli
Such videos embolden more creeps to record women in public.
The other candidates for Delhi University Student union (DUSU) polls came with campaign convoys. Deepanshu Shokeen came barefoot.
The 21-year-old, son of a DTC bus conductor and an Anganwadi teacher, had pledged not to wear shoes to highlight students’ housing problems after a PG hostel building collapsed in Satya Niketan, killing seven, five of them DU students.
On Saturday, he had the result to show for it – a 13,705-vote victory in the DUSU vice-presidential contest.
Shokeen polled 30,615 votes, defeating ABVP’s Ishu Maurya, who secured 16,910 votes. NSUI’s Vir Chatrath finished third with 4,313 votes. His victory prevented an ABVP sweep of all four central panel posts.
A resident of Peeragarhi village in West Delhi, Shokeen said his four years as a student shaped his decision to enter student politics. He completed his BA Programme from Shaheed Bhagat Singh College and is now pursuing a Master’s in Buddhist Studies in the Faculty of Arts. He has also been a UPSC aspirant, he said.
Just days before the election, Shokeen had allegedly walked away from the Congress-affiliated NSUI after he was told to contest for the president’s post, sources in NSUI had said. Shokeen, however, had claimed that he was not given a ticke by NSUI.
Shokeen has been active in student politics since 2023 and served as a student representative in his college. He campaigned for NSUI during the 2023 and 2024 elections and sought its organisational in 2025, but was not selected. This year, after allegedly again failing to get a ticke, he decided to contest independently.
“Twenty minutes mein (within 20 minutes)”, he told The Indian Express, recalling how long it took him to make the decision.
When asked about the party decision to deny candidates tickes leading up to two rebel NSUI candidates this time, Leni S Jadhav
Joint Secretary at AICC Research, who is also DUSU NSUI panel member had told The Indian Express, “This is the beauty of democracy. Everyone has the right to contest. NSUI can field only for positions: President, Vice President, Secretary and Joint Secretary.”
When asked about the huge support base for Shokeen, she said, “All of them individually and socially would have following. Of course it sometimes benefits and sometimes takes elections down. To choose the best, we (NSUI) definitely has to see who is the best. The best out of the lot has to be selected. I believe in all four people. I have personally spent time with all of them.”
Shokeen said some students he had approached during the campaign told him that although he had fought a good election, he would not win. The margin, he said, was his answer to them.
Asked whether he might eventually return to NSUI, he did not rule it in or out. “I cannot say anything; I do not know yet what I will do,” he said.
Shokeen looked unfazed amid the counting frenzy. “I expected to win, but not by such a margin. But what lies ahead is the most important thing for me to think about,” he said.
He had pledged not to wear shoes while raising the issue of student accommodation, which became particularly prominent after the September 6 building collapse in Satya Niketan.
“I had promised that I would first sit on a protest,” he said, pointing to his bare feet.
While student housing remained his key electoral issue, the other issues he focussed on included infrastructure, implementation of the National Education Policy, fee hikes and transparency.
His campaign stood out in an election dominated by the large convoys and mobilisation of the major student organisations. Shokeen instead emphasised his direct connect with students, describing those campaigning with him as “genuine students” and pointing to support from students in his neighbourhood, Peeragarhi.
He said he had seen students face the same problems he had faced, prompting him to enter student politics so future batches would not have to go through the same issues.
Shokeen said student politics should not be about electoral politics alone. “It should be for student rights, student voices,” he added.
In an X post on Saturday, Shokeen thanked DU students, saying the victory belonged to students who wanted to raise “real issues” on campus.
For now, he said, his focus was on the work ahead.
Asked about his first priority, he had a one-word answer: “Hostels.”
He then walked away, barefoot again.
I was on my way back to the Delhi cantonment after attending AIIMS Pulse yesterday. I took the metro and reached the Cantt Metro Station around 11p.m.
My sister was coming to pick me up so I thought I'd meet her halfway near the base hospital so she could take a U-turn. I departed the station and made it past the e-rickshaws.
Mentally I was still trying to get over the match I lost in the evening. I suddenly realised two guys were closing in from behind at a very fast pace so I slowed down and waited for them to pass. Two guys were walking in front of me so I stood across the red light. Soon the guys in the back joined them and started chatting in their native language.
I stood there only and kept peeking towards that pitch dark road. I could see some movement in the bushes. These bushes need to be taken down I can't stress enough. A guy started approaching me so I moved farther back towards the metro station.
I texted my sister that I've reached the metro and I was planning to meet her at the base gate. She told me to stay put. The big electric tv screen lit up suddenly and i no longer saw any movement so I started approaching the path with bushes at each side. Suddenly a man came out from the bushes and his companions started approaching me from behind. I ran towards the metro again. I was about to start filming and call the police but my sister reached the station with jiju. I quickly locked the car doors and told them to leave.
Please anyone travelling late around Delhi Cantonment don't take the footpath. I thought the Delhi cantonment would be safe as the last time I came it was fully lit. I didn't want to bother my jiju as he came back from a 36-hour shift at the hospital. I just want to share it with people living around the area.
Female intuition is so real; although I couldn't see anyone, I could sense something was off, even when the grief was weighing down on me.
The gravity of the situation finally hit. The guys looked like migrant workers. When they realised I wasn't alone, they ran and crossed the road.
I wish I had informed the police. Men like these make this world unsafe.
Stay safe!
Bimarus don't have any other job then to attack NCR natives.
.
And they say Casteism is dead in India whereas first thing they check in candidate's resume are their caste.
No wonder people with talent prefer to work in foreign where there are no lala-baniya companies and recruiters who don't care about caste and religion of candidates.
**[@dilli_dehat](https://www.instagram.com/dilli\_dehat/)\*\*
If Delhi Is Building for 2047, Why Is It Paying Farmers at 2008 Rates?
Farmer Shri Raja Ram of Rani Khera village points to a contradiction that says a great deal about how Delhi treats the villages on whose land it continues to expand.
Land from Rani Khera and neighbouring villages is being acquired for the proposed extension linking the Delhi–Amritsar–Katra Expressway (NE-5) with UER-II (NH-344M)—infrastructure intended to improve connectivity across Delhi-NCR.
But Raja Ram asks a simple question: what is his land worth?
Delhi's official minimum rate for agricultural land remains ₹53 lakh per acre—a rate fixed nearly two decades ago, in 2008. Even the Delhi government has acknowledged that this benchmark is far below contemporary realities and has proposed revisions.
Think about what has happened to Delhi-NCR since 2008. Expressways, housing, warehouses, institutions and commercial developments have transformed its peripheries. Once village land enters this urban economy, its value can multiply dramatically.
Yet when the same land is acquired from a farmer, the benchmark can remain frozen in another era.
The state recognises the future value of land when deciding what to build on it, but values its past when deciding what the farmer should receive.
This also challenges the popular caricature of the “Delhi farmer” as someone who became rich overnight by selling land. Missing from that story are acquisition notices, disputed valuations, litigation, fragmented holdings, lost livelihoods.
An acre of farmland is not an ordinary commodity. Once acquired, there is no next acre being produced. For Delhi, it may become an expressway, university, colony or infrastructure corridor. For a village family, it may have been livelihood, inheritance, security and bargaining power.
Delhi needs infrastructure.
But why should the communities providing its most fundamental resource—land—be expected to subsidise that development through outdated valuations?
If the road being built on a farmer's land belongs to the Delhi of 2047, why should the land taken from him still be valued through the Delhi of 2008?
During the case of Yadav Kathavachak being beaten and peed upon by Brahmins in Etawah , mods specifically allowed 1 day old bot accounts to defend the Brahmin attackers, whereas mod purposely curtailed and removed users who presented Yadav side.
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Despite its pollution, it supports a surprising diversity of life, writes Nirjesh Gautam.
One of my friends recently moved to Maidan Garhi, an urban village in South Delhi. Since then, I have been visiting him occasionally. On my first day there, while walking along the busy IGNOU Road, I overheard someone say, “That way leads to the johad (pond)".
The remark caught my attention. A pond? Here, in the middle of such dense settlement? It piqued my interest. What kind of birds would be there? Do people use it? How does it smell? And how had a pond survived amid the dense settlements and constant expansion of the city?
A few days later, I was travelling to the metro station in an autorickshaw with a friend when the driver took a different route to avoid the traffic. That was when I got my first physical glimpse of Madudi Johad, which I thought was Maidan Garhi
Old pipal (Ficus religiosa) trees stood around the water body, while people sat along its concrete embankment. But before I could take in much else, I caught a strong whiff of sewage mixed into the water.
When I later searched for information about Madudi Johad, I found that much of what I encountered online reduced the pond to its association with a murder case. The association is certainly part of its history, but I found myself wondering: what else happened here?
In the first few visits, it looked nothing more than a typical neglected urban waterbody to me. Sewage drains emptied directly into the pond, with garbage accumulated in several places.
Yet, the pond was far from lifeless. Despite its pollution, it supports a surprising diversity of life.
I recorded 22 bird species in and around the waterbody. One day, I was surprised to see a pair of painted snipes. It was the first time I had ever seen snipes. That evening, I also noticed what appeared to be a grebe with two heads.
When I focused my binoculars, I realised what I was actually seeing: an adult grebe carrying its chicks on its back. Then, I watched a sub-adult monkey swim across the breadth of the other water body immediately beside Madudi Johad.
The pond till date is an epicentre of human-nature interactions. People walked along its edge. Children played beside the water. Men sat beneath the old trees. In the evenings, married couples, children, and elderly residents came to walk, talk, or simply sit near the pond.
On one occasion, as I walked around the boundary, I saw two women and three children lying on a small outgrowth of land within the pond. Children gathered along the shore, throwing stones into the water. During one of Delhi's skin-searing afternoons, people sat beneath the trees, seeking relief from the heat.
Bhanu, who comes from Bihar, said, “I work in a kothi (bunglow), I cook food, and whenever I get time, I come here to sit and relax.” It is curious that, given the sharp smell of sewage, people still come here to relax.
Ram Singh said:
>“Well, the pond is dirty but, in this city, open spaces are limited and johad offers what is not there. So, people come here to walk, sit, play, talk or just watch the water.”
Painted snipes; and buffaloes, egrets, and spot-billed ducks with their chicks.
For the people of Maidan Garhi village, its history went much deeper. Monu, now in his late thirties, has lived in the village since childhood. He remembers Madudi Johad from a very different time.
>“Probably around 14 years ago, I used to swim there. But the pond has swallowed many people. There is something inside the pond, some spirit or something. Ever since I felt that I was being pulled inside the pond, I left swimming in the pond altogether.” -
Monu
A generation older than Monu revealed another story. Seventy three-year-old Raghu Nath Singh told me, “Some 40 years ago, people used to grow chestnuts here, and there was fishing to a certain extent. The pond was quite small, and rain was the only source of water. Back then, the water was fresh, and people directly drank from the pond, as it was labour-intensive to draw water from the well, which was 80 feet deep at that time in this area. The pond that you see now was less than one-third the size of what it is today. The other part was actually agricultural fields where people grew jowar and bajra."
"It was so clean that after coming from school, we directly came here and swam in it," he added.
>"As urbanisation took over, the sewage system was provided and connected to the pond. Now, household waste directly empties into it. But it is still a johad for us.” -
Raghu Nath Singh
My conversations with the Dilli Dehat team, which documents rural Delhi, made me think about Madudi Johad in a broader context. I asked Puneet, the project's founder, a straightforward question: Madudi Johad restoration or infrastructural development?
“If I am forced to choose, I would choose conservation of the johad,” he said. “But I also think the question itself shows our planning failure. Why should ecology and infrastructural development be made enemies?”
Gagandeep, the project's co-founder, expressed a similar view. According to him, “The future challenge is ecological. A healthy local economy can also be developed around the johad; in fact, it should be.”
Puneet, who comes from Devli village, later sent me photographs of ponds around his village. I opened WhatsApp expecting to see images of waterbodies. Instead, I saw playgrounds, construction, and other public infrastructure. I asked him whether he had accidentally sent me the wrong photographs. He had not.
>These, he explained, were places where ponds had existed during his childhood. Madudi Johad, by comparison, has survived. But survival is not the same as protection.
Raghu Nath Singh and Ram in conversation with their friends
An elderly resident walking with his grandchildren
The pond remains neglected and in a bureaucratic vacuum, with sewage entering through various drains and garbage accumulating within it.
It falls under the jurisdiction of the South Division of the Forest Department, yet its continued existence seems to depend as much on its persistence as a waterbody—and on the people who continue to use it—as on any formal protection. And then there is the life that has persisted alongside this neglect.
Sewage flows into it, but so do ducks and grebes. Garbage accumulates in the water, while dragonflies hover above it. People come to walk beside it, children play around it, and families return to it during religious festivals.
Older residents remember swimming in its waters, while younger generations encounter it as a recreational space. Its story is, therefore, not only about degradation but about persistence.
Madudi Johad shows this clearly. A father teaching his child to skip stones and ducks teaching their young to swim—all of these things are part of the pond's life.
Madudi Johad is a culturally rich waterbody in which urban ecologies play out at the intersection of urban fluids and the power of nature.
Here, humans living in dense human settlements find refuge from living in the city. Perhaps it gives them some sense of joy and peace.
As the urban waste interacts with the wilderness, it shows a variety of colours of novelty that require our appreciation and attention.
Now, as I return to that first overheard sentence, “udhar se johad hai,” I think there is something significant in its simplicity. There is a pond over there. And despite everything that has happened to it, to the people living here, it is still a pond that offers a sliver of nature in the middle of the urban jungle.
By Nirjesh Gautam
https://www.thequint.com/climate-change/delhi-maidan-garhi-pond-survives-urban-expansion#read-more
