Yesterday, I shared a blog post titled "UGC Salaries and the Great Public Heartbreak." To my surprise—and perhaps also as a reflection of a collective frustration—it recorded 555 reads in a single day, one of the highest viewership figures for any post on my blog. My sincere thanks to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and share it across social media. Of course, I do not assume that all 555 readers belonged to the Higher Education sector. Yet the response itself is significant. It suggests that the concerns raised in the blog resonate with the lives of many college teachers and touch larger questions about work, public perception, policy delays, and professional dignity. I was certain that the blog captured a reality that many teachers in Kerala's Arts and Science colleges know all too well.  Even within our own families, the countless hours spent reading, preparing for classes, evaluating, mentoring students, conducting research, writing papers, handling accre...

The moment you say you are an Assistant Professor in a government or aided college, people immediately calculate your salary with the emotional intensity of chartered accountants conducting a corruption inquiry. Most seem convinced that college teachers — especially in the Humanities — work for three hours a day and spend the rest of the time peacefully drinking tea under trees because apparently Shakespeare stopped evolving in 1616. A small reflection on invisible academic labour, endless reading, public misconceptions, and why teaching is one of the most misunderstood professions. The Myth of the “Overpaid” College Teacher The moment you tell someone that you work as an Assistant Professor in an aided or government college, there is usually a brief silence. Then comes the expression. A mixture of admiration, disbelief, and deep emotional suffering caused by your salary. If the conversation continues long enough, you can almost hear the unspoken thought: “This person earns that much ...

Every institution has them: the administrator who treats power as ornament, the one paralysed by fear and indecision, the political survivor who switches sides with changing equations, the manipulator who sees capable people as threats, the silent worker who never (visibly) desired authority but strengthens the institution when entrusted with it, the accidental administrator who never desired authority but quietly becomes the institution’s strongest pillar when responsibility arrives, and the invisible yet competent leader whom power structures often keep away from decision-making roles. A few reflections on power, insecurity, manipulation, and institutional culture in academia. The Revolving Chair What should be the qualities of a good administrator? This is perhaps one of the most important questions anyone aspiring for power—however small or symbolic—should ask themselves before occupying a chair in any institution. Not because authority is inherently dangerous, but because institut...

I belong to a generation that survived teachers who threw chalk pieces with sniper-level accuracy, locked classroom doors exactly one second after the bell, and predicted our future unemployment with terrifying confidence. Today, as a teacher, I carefully frame every sentence like a UN peace negotiation so that no student feels emotionally attacked by words such as “deadline,” “effort,” or “poor preparation.” Somewhere between “Stand outside the class!” and “Thank you so much for attending despite waking up at noon,” higher education has dramatically evolved. A humorous — and slightly worried — reflection on teaching in the age of emotional fragility. The Student-Friendly University and Its Silent Crisis I often find myself wondering whether I have unknowingly time-travelled into an educational world radically different from the one in which I was raised. I have a few doubts about the social expectations surrounding teachers in higher education today. Can a teacher scold a student for ...

Every delayed scholarship, promotion, approval, or administrative decision carries a human story behind it. When institutions become battlegrounds for endless conflict, ordinary people silently become collateral damage. Democracy Needs Debate, Not Endless Paralysis Kerala often takes pride in its literacy, public institutions, democratic culture, and political consciousness. We celebrate ourselves as a society that debates, questions, resists, and participates. And rightly so. Democracies do not grow through silence. Institutions cannot thrive without disagreement. Dissent is not the enemy of democracy; in many ways, it is its lifeblood. But somewhere along the way, many of our institutional spaces seem to have forgotten a crucial distinction: the difference between principled disagreement and endless paralysis. When Institutions Become Battlefields Today, across a few public institutions in Kerala, one increasingly witnesses a disturbing pattern. Meetings are postponed indefinitely. D...

Elections may end with results, but governance begins with difficult questions. This open letter to the new Chief Minister of Kerala reflects on issues that deserve urgent attention beyond political celebrations—higher education, English language learning, legal literacy, women’s empowerment, and the future of public institutions in the state. Democracies grow stronger not when criticism is silenced, but when uncomfortable conversations are taken seriously. Dear Sir, First of all, let me extend my sincere wishes to you as you assume the responsibility of leading the state at a politically significant moment in Kerala’s history. Democratic transitions, especially in coalition-based systems, are always accompanied by uncertainties, negotiations, and moments of public anxiety. The recent developments surrounding the formation of the new government were therefore not entirely unexpected. Democracies, after all, are rarely free from turbulence. But once the political spectacle settles, gove...