At 6.30 every morning, Lakshmi steps out of her small tiled house in a sleepy suburb of Mysuru. One hand clutches her tiffin, the other her faded handbag. Until two years ago, her biggest daily worry was not the workload at the private school where she works as an assistant, but the bus fare. Some days she walked. Some days she borrowed. Some days she simply skipped work.

In a significant ruling delivered on 8 January, the Karnataka High Court quashed the FIR in Abuzar Ahmed & Others vs State of Karnataka, sending out yet another stern reminder that Section 498A of the IPC cannot be invoked to settle personal scores or ordinary marital disagreements.

An evening walk, a gentle breeze, and a harmless joke triggered a harsh truth. As I strolled along the park pathway, I ran into our ever-polite Bengali bank manager, Chatterji Babu. With the casual cruelty of small talk, I asked, “So, April 1st retirement ke baad, Kolkata ki train pakad rahe hain?”

What does it mean to be a “common man” in India today? Is it an identity, or merely a lifelong compulsion to endure? In Digital India, you are not first a citizen, you are a number: Aadhaar, PAN, credit card, OTP, voter ID. Your existence is neatly catalogued, your dignity less so...

In a village in Agra district, Lakshmi's eyes open as soon as morning arrives. Along with the rising sun. First, tea for everyone, then filling water at the handpump, feeding fodder to the buffalo, washing the children's clothes, and cooking for the in-laws. Adjusting the dupatta on her head, she mentally recites the list of chores for the day: work in the fields, lunch, and another day exhausted by evening.

Providing a monthly ‘Universal Basic Salary’ of ₹5,000 to every adult Indian woman who is not a pensioner or an income-tax payer is not just economically feasible, it could become a turning point for social justice, gender equality and grassroots development.