Education Views | Insightful Perspectives and Analysis - Edinbox

What began as a typical bag search at a Nashik private school in Ghoti turned into a full-blown wake-up call for parents and teachers. A surprise raid—initiated by the principal herself—found a cache of surprising items secretly concealed in backpacks: knives, condoms, playing cards, bicycle chains, and even brass knuckles.

Off the record, one of the school instructors admitted, "We had started monitoring after observing a few students with unusual haircuts. We didn't expect to find this." The discovery wasn't done in one day—rather, the school vice principal described, "These things came up over a period of days. We are not here to punish, but to prevent. The aim is to cut off the creation of bad behavior early."

The students concerned are reported to be from Classes 7 to 10, leaving immediate questions as to how and why such products ended up in the possession of teenagers. One parent, clearly agitated at the PTA meeting called following the incident, asked, "Where are we going wrong as a community?"

Consequently, the school has doubled double-daily searches, along with initiating counselling lessons and campaigns that aim to advance emotional resilience as well as students' decision-making abilities. Sensitization for teachers has been booked to mark behaviour red flags.

The authorities have been alerted but so far no intervention by police has occurred. While the event generates headlines all over the city, experts in education are crying out for a less extreme approach: tough management blended with therapy.

The school is now meeting this not merely as a time of discipline, but as a signpost—one that calls for collective responsibility on the part of teachers, parents, and society. Because when adolescence turns chaotic, it's structure, understanding, and direction that light the way forward.

The Nashik school incident is not only a red flag—it's a reflection of the silent crises brewing beneath the surface of our classrooms. As teachers struggle to keep the damage hidden, the one thing that catches our eye isn't so much possession of prohibited items, but the stark absence of discussion about emotional well-being, peer pressure, and online exposure. When 12-year-olds arrive at school with condoms and knives, the problem isn't discipline—it's disconnection. Daily bag checks might give us short-term control, but long-term solutions demand we pose harder questions: Are we listening to our children? Are schools safe havens for conversation, not simply education? It's time we get past Band-Aid fixes and spend money on emotional literacy, mentorship, and genuine connection—before another shock makes the papers.

Ticking away towards the May 31 deadline, the National Medical Commission (NMC) appears to be leaving it very close to the wire. More than 735 medical colleges and almost 3,000 postgraduate courses—among them in Gujarat—are in suspended animation awaiting key inspections and approval. Alarming as it may sound, the NMC has not yet started the process of scrutinizing them.

This yearly ceremony of inspection and approval is nothing new. Every year, the NMC has to physically inspect new institutions and virtually inspect existing ones. However, even though this is an annual occurrence, the system appears to be caught short. According to sources, over 100 of the outstanding 735 colleges are new and, in accordance with the law, must be evaluated on a face-to-face basis. Add to that the staggering number of postgraduate programs—about 3,000—with nearly a third seeking seat expansion, and the challenge becomes even more immense.

Colleges have already sent their proposals for inspection, playing their part well in advance. It is now the regulator that seems ill-prepared. The lack of timely inspections can put the whole admission cycle off track, impacting thousands of future doctors and healthcare professionals. And if this was not alarming enough, there are murmurs within the system that the NMC just does not possess the personnel to carry out the required inspections across the country.

This case raises a number of questions: Why is the nation's highest medicine regulator rushing at the last minute? Why has the system not been expanded to catch up with the nation's growing healthcare education requirements? And most critically, who will be held responsible if approvals are not done on time?

The wider worry is that this kind of bureaucratic lag is more than a logistical glitch—it has potentially dire consequences for India's medical pipeline. A lag in admissions will be a lag in training the next generation of physicians, just when India's healthcare system needs them most.

It's time the NMC thought again, spends on timely planning, and possibly even decentralises some of its inspection work so that such traffic jams don't happen in the future. Because in a nation where demand for medical education is skyrocketing, the last thing we need is a traffic jam at the top.

There are moments in the corporate world when the public façade of boardroom diplomacy breaks—and the rawness of personal defiance takes center stage. Byju Raveendran, the once-revered edtech pioneer who built India’s most talked-about unicorn, has stepped into such a moment. This weekend, he turned to social media—not just for optics but to launch an explosive counteroffensive.

In a dramatic post on X (formerly Twitter), Raveendran announced that he had filed a First Information Report (FIR) against Pankaj Srivastava, the former Resolution Professional (RP) for Think & Learn, along with EY employees Rahul, Dinkar, and Lokesh, accusing them of conspiring with Glas Trust—a firm representing Byju’s lenders and spearheading the insolvency proceedings.

His language was unequivocal and emotional:

“I am not a flower; I am the fire that will break GLAS.”

With that, he made it clear: the battle for Byju’s is now as personal as it is legal. The post also included a snapshot of the FIR, accompanied by a sharply worded accusation—calling GLAS an “association of crooks” and claiming that EY acted as their “agents.”

This comes in the wake of a whistleblower post from an EY India insider on LinkedIn, alleging collusion between EY and Glas Trust. According to the whistleblower, EY had privileged access to sensitive documents that could indicate criminal wrongdoing, and key executives acted in ways that undercut Byju’s ability to restructure on its own terms.

Byju’s financial collapse—sparked by a $1.2 billion default on a Term Loan B—has been playing out like a corporate thriller. In June 2024, the NCLT (National Company Law Tribunal) handed over control of Byju’s finances to the lenders. Since then, Glas Trust has effectively run the show. Raveendran's resistance to that decision has been consistent but largely unheeded—until now, when he’s gone on the offensive.

In another piercing post, Raveendran challenged EY India Chairman Rajiv Memani directly:

“Is this fraud INDIVIDUAL or INSTITUTIONAL @Rajivmemani?” he asked.

He then invoked his own accolades as EY Entrepreneur of the Year 2018 and 2020, in a not-so-subtle reminder of his past affiliation with the very institution he now accuses.

There’s a distinct shift here—not just in tone, but in strategy. Raveendran is no longer looking for backdoor negotiations. He’s painting himself as a founder betrayed, a reformer wronged, and a fighter rising from the wreckage. Whether this fiery stance will rekindle investor faith or further isolate him remains to be seen.

But one thing’s clear: this isn’t just about Byju’s anymore. It’s about power, accountability, and the way India’s startup dream interacts with global capital and its enforcers.

We’ll be watching closely—because if there’s any fire still left in the edtech giant, this might just be the blaze that reveals it.

On April 11, Odisha will see a milestone in its healthcare history. Union Health Minister J.P. Nadda will formally launch the Ayushman Bharat – Pradhan Mantri Jan Arogya Yojana (PMJAY) in the state, promising free healthcare to more than 3.5 crore citizens. The scheme, integrating with the already existing Gopabandhu Jan Arogya Yojana (GJAY), marks a bold initiative to cover 86% of the state's population under medical coverage.

And yet, as Odisha gets ready to celebrate this move towards healthcare inclusion, a sharply contrasting narrative is unfolding elsewhere in the nation—one that casts a long shadow over the credibility and governance of the very same scheme.

Only days prior to the Odisha launch, the Enforcement Directorate (ED) conducted a wide-ranging operation in Jharkhand, West Bengal, Uttar Pradesh, and Delhi, raiding 21 premises in relation to an alleged money-laundering racket within the Ayushman Bharat system. At the center of the probe are three third-party administrators (TPAs) — MDIndia, Medi Assist, and Safeway Insurance — whose function was to simplify services, not circumvent them.

The charges are serious. Fake treatments, doctored records, and even instances of dead patients "receiving" treatment have emerged, partly thanks to a scathing Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) report. What was conceived as India's response to universal health coverage is now grappling with the painful reality of gaps in implementation and systemic weaknesses.

The contrast between Odisha's festive rollout and the ED's crackdown elsewhere is interesting. It begs the question: Can a scheme aimed at empowering the poor live with weak accountability?

To be sure, the vision of Ayushman Bharat is still profoundly moving. In Odisha, for instance, where much of the population lies beyond the reach of private health care, the scheme guarantees not only affordability but dignity in gaining access to life-saving services. A family cover of ₹5 lakh a year — and a similar amount set aside for women — is no trifling measure. If implemented properly, it has the potential to fill long-standing gaps in the healthcare system.

But sight alone won't do.

The fact itself that Jharkhand's highest functionaries, including those of the State Arogya Society, are on the watchlist indicates institutional fissures. When third-party go-betweens, left in charge of the well-being of millions, are accused of diverting funds under ghost patients and falsified bills, the harm goes beyond figures—it undercuts public confidence.

So what can Odisha learn from this juxtaposition?

Firstly, transparency must be non-negotiable. Every empaneled hospital, insurance handler, and data operator should be under regular audit. Secondly, states must not treat implementation as a box-ticking exercise. Localized corruption often thrives in administrative apathy—Odisha must ensure that its converged model with GJAY does not become a bureaucratic juggernaut prone to manipulation.

Lastly, there must be citizen awareness. Whether Ayushman Bharat succeeds in Odisha will not only rely on rollout ceremonies and political showmanship, but on whether or not people actually know their entitlements under the scheme and how to claim them.

While one region of India greets a new era of public health, another recalls why vigilance is as necessary as vision. Ayushman Bharat stands at a fork in the road today—Odisha has to ensure that its path ahead doesn't trudge down the same pitfalls that threaten to undermine its promise elsewhere.

As the curtains draw on CBSE Class 12 board exams for the 2024-25 academic year, thousands of students now await at the doorway to their next great leap—college admissions. While anticipation grows over the forthcoming announcement of the result, another fascinating development goes unnoticed in influencing the way forward: CBSE's initiative to hold an orientation program on the Central Universities Entrance Test (CUET) for school principals and counselors.

At first glance, the two events may seem disconnected—one marking the end of a long academic journey, the other preparing stakeholders for the next phase. But look closer, and you’ll find a clear pattern: CBSE is transitioning from being just an examining authority to becoming a more holistic educational facilitator.

The orientation of CUET is a timely move. With CUET being a significant gateway to India's central universities now, schools must reform their support mechanisms to make sure students navigate through this standardized admissions process. Although for some, CUET has brought structure and disarray—structure in the form of a universal criterion, disarray due to its relatively new status and evolving nature.

By directly involving principals and counsellors, CBSE is not just disseminating information—It is building an ecosystem where academic counselling is not just a reactive exercise but a planned one. These front-line teachers will be in a better position to advise students on test patterns, syllabus alignment, and even stress management tips during the admission season. This can be a game-changer, particularly for schools in rural and semi-urban areas where CUET awareness is still low.

While all this is happening, those students who have recently appeared for their board exams are left in limbo—awaiting results, with no idea what the future holds. Timely and clear counselling is not a luxury for them; it's a necessity. And that's where CBSE's two-pronged approach—finishing one academic milestone while setting the stage for the next—deserves special mention. It is not just conducting tests and releasing marks; it is taking extra efforts to build a connecting link between school learning and higher learning.

But there are reservations. When will the result be declared? Will the orientation program be shared with students and parents? To what extent are schools ready to implement CUET-based counseling systems on ground level?

As we wait for the Class 12 results to be made live on cbse.nic.in or cbseresults.nic.in, it is reassuring to note that CBSE is taking a forward-looking approach. But the real success of this initiative will be in follow-through—whether the takeaways from the orientation sessions are followed up with tangible strategies in schools.

At this point of change, the challenge for CBSE is not just to deliver results, but also deliver relevance. And if the two initiatives are anything to judge by, the board is beginning to realize that the purpose of the board is no longer about marking answer papers—but shaping futures.

The University Grants Commission (UGC) has unveiled new draft guidelines that transfer the authority to appoint Vice-Chancellors (VCs) of state universities largely to Governors, who are Chancellors in a majority of states. This action has caused a political storm, especially in opposition-governed states such as Tamil Nadu, West Bengal, and Kerala, which view it as an effort to limit their control over higher education institutions. The guidelines also threaten debarment from UGC schemes for non-compliance, which has raised concerns regarding central overreach into state matters.

Opposition-ruled governments contend that their universities have long been strongholds of intellectual and political freedom, and this action jeopardizes their autonomy. In West Bengal, where the government of Mamata Banerjee has frequently had run-ins with the Governor over appointments to universities, the new rules will further intensify tensions. The state government has traditionally complained about the Governor interfering with the governance of education, and the policy change is construed as another attempt to strip states of power.

Kerala's Left Democratic Front (LDF) government, which too has had a tumultuous relationship with the Governor, sees this as a political move to gain control over educational institutions. The state has been assertive in asserting educational autonomy, and observers feel that imposing these guidelines may result in greater politicization of academic appointments.

In the same vein, in Tamil Nadu, the DMK ruling party firmly opposed any Governor-led action in university administration. The state government has always supported a democratic and open-minded process in the appointment of VCs, stressing that educational institutions should best represent the people and not outside political interests.

Earlier, state governments used to have a major role in the appointment of VCs through search committees. The new guidelines suggest that Governors, being Chancellors, constitute a three-member search-cum-selection committee, providing them with greater say in the final appointment. Critics say that this change would politicize the hiring process, enabling the central government to exert indirect control over universities in opposition-ruled states.

Governors, once considered neutral figures, have become flashpoints of controversy in state politics. In states where opposition parties rule, such as Tamil Nadu, Kerala, and West Bengal, Governors have often been in conflict with the elected government. This new UGC directive can be expected to increase these conflicts because state governments see it as an invasion of their right to rule over educational institutions.

The Indian Constitution identifies education as a Concurrent List subject, and hence both the Centre and states can legislate on it. The new guidelines issued by the UGC are legally questionable as to whether the central government is exceeding its jurisdiction by giving Governors more authority over university matters. Opposition states can move court against these regulations on the grounds that they are against federal principles and encroach upon state autonomy.

Though the UGC says the guidelines are intended to streamline the VC appointment process, they have evoked huge political and legal issues. For opposition-governed states, the initiative is a bid to take control of higher education to the center. With a 30-day public consultation period on the table, the battle over university autonomy and federal regulation in education will only escalate. The ultimate result will determine the destiny of higher education management in India, whether state governments will be able to maintain autonomy of their universities or central control will further permeate into academic governance.