Wildlife study to find focus spots

Jayashree Nandi

New Delhi





Plan To Conserve Vulnerable Aravali Fauna

A study by the Wildlife Institute of India (WII) will soon point out “potential“ wildlife areas in the Aravalis in Haryana that require special conservation measures and protection from urbanisation. The Haryana forest department had commissioned WII to carry out a survey to identify vulnerable areas that needed government intervention.The Aravali range ends in Haryana and is, therefore, an ecologically fragile region that is threatened by modernity . Unlike in Rajasthan, which has a number of protected areas, including the Sariska National Park, the wildlife-rich areas of Haryana had never been identified. “The forest department wants to have a document at hand to be able to resist any pressure to change land use,“ said Bilal Habib of the animal ecology and conservation biology department at WII.
The WII team comprising project biologists Anchal Bhasin and Paridhi Jain, along with local villagers, have finished scouting a 30-km area around Damdama lake, Sultanpur Bird Sanctuary and parts of Mewat in the past month or so.They found ample evidence of wildlife, particularly around Damdama lake, including a 2.5-km-long trail of leopard pugmarks. They also noticed hyena pugmarks and some unidentified pugmarks that could be of the Indian fox.
The two field biologists and the villagers are currently conducting carnivore surveys based on pugmarks, scat and direct sightings as well as an ungulate survey based on the lie-transect method. Bhasin and Jain and their associates, such as Sunil Harsana, a wildlife activist and resident of Roz Ka Gujjar, comb the forest areas of Haryana every day from 6 am to 7 pm.
“We knew that there was rich wildlife in these regions,“ said Harsana. “The WII study will officially put this on record.“ Apart from large carnivores like leopards and hyenas, the surveyors have seen jack als, jungle cats, honey badgers and pugmarks of animals that are yet to be identified.
Despite the presence of tigers in the Rajasthan Aravalis, the WII team isn't quite hopeful of finding the big cats on the Haryana side because the habitat is quite degraded. “There is too much human presence and disturbance for tigers to be living here. Tigers also don't prefer undulating terrain as habitats,“ explained Bhasin.She said that if it could be confirmed that the Indian fox could indeed be found here, it would be an important discovery .Indicators of leopard presence are, of course, the most important discovery because it means there are many other smal ler animals living there on which the spotted cats prey .
The team will submit its initial report in a couple of months after which camera trappings will begin to corroborate the findings.
Local activists are looking forward to the WII report because there is immense pressure from the real estate sector to start constructions close to Damdama. “ Around 5,000 acres of the lake's catchment area are already privatized. There will soon be pressure to allow building of residential apartments,“ worries Colonel SS Oberoi, a resident of the area. He is hopeful, however, that the WII survey will thwart such designs.

Source: Times of India, 5-02-2016

Battle with many corners

ICDS, the primary scheme targeting malnutrition, needs to be broadened with the help of the National Nutrition Mission.

Every once in a while, a discussion or debate starts on malnutrition. On a debated issue, precision is desirable. Initially, there were several discussions on the word “malnutrition”, which can technically mean over-nutrition, as well as under-nutrition. But now, there is global consensus on three terms.

First, for a given reference age, the under-weight phenomenon is moderate if weight is two standard deviations below median weight. Moderate moves to severe if it becomes three standard deviations and below. Second, similarly, there is moderate stunting if height is two standard deviations below median, and three standard deviations and below makes it severe stunting. Third, one looks at the weight:height ratio. Wasting is moderate if it is two standard deviations below the median ratio and three standard deviations and more makes wasting severe.

We loosely use the word malnutrition, but there are three specific indicators — under-weight, stunting and wasted, although they are correlated. Sustainable development goals (SDGs) have been accepted now, leading up to 2030. The second of these is on hunger, food security, nutrition and sustainable agriculture. I should specifically quote targets 2.1 and 2.2. Target 2.1 states, “By 2030, end hunger and ensure access by all people, in particular the poor and people in vulnerable situations, including infants, to safe, nutritious and sufficient food all year round.” Target 2.2 adds, “By 2030, end all forms of malnutrition, including achieving, by 2025, the internationally agreed targets on stunting and wasting in children under five years of age, and address the nutritional needs of adolescent girls, pregnant and lactating women and older persons.”

Notice the obvious, this isn’t only about children. 2025 is a reference to global nutrition targets. There are six of these. For our purposes, with a focus on children, three are relevant: One, 40 per cent reduction in the number of under-five stunted children; two, 30 per cent reduction in low birth weight; and, three, reduction and maintenance of childhood wasting to less than 5 per cent. However, malnutrition doesn’t work in silos. Therefore, despite the focus on children, two more are also important: Four, increasing the rate of exclusive breast-feeding in the first six months to at least 50 per cent; and, five, 50 per cent reduction of anaemia in women of reproductive age. (The last of global nutrition targets is on over-weight children.)

Goals lead to targets and targets lead to indicators that are monitored. We don’t yet know what indicators will be used to monitor SDG performance. But that’s a general comment. For malnutrition, it will obviously be weight, stunting and wasting, for specific ages. Other than birth, the standard age is under-five. However, there are data constraints, both availability and time lags. For instance, health-related data may be available for those who are under-three, rather than under-five. This has been the problem across various National Family Health Surveys (NFHS). For the record, the last NFHS for all states (NFHS-3) is still for 2005-06.

In February 2015, the ministry of statistics and programme implementation (MoSPI) published a country report on India’s progress towards the MDGs (Millennium Development Goals), the precursor to the SDGs. This said, “It is estimated that in 1990, the proportion of underweight children below three years was 52 per cent. In order to meet the target (MDG), the proportion of under-weight children should decrease to 26 per cent by 2015. The National Family Health Survey shows that the proportion of under-weight children below three years declined from 43 per cent in 1998-99 to 40 per cent in 2005-06. At this rate of decline, the proportion of underweight children below three years is expected to reduce to 33 per cent by 2015, which indicates India is falling short of the target… The prevalence of underweight among children < 3 years of age is significant in most of the states and varies considerably between the states. The problem is severe in Madhya Pradesh (57.9 per cent), Bihar (54.9 per cent), Jharkhand (54.6 per cent), Chhattisgarh (47.8 per cent), Meghalaya (42.9 per cent), Uttar Pradesh (41.6 per cent), and Gujarat (41.1 per cent), where the proportion of underweight children < 3 years is more than the national level estimate (40 per cent) in 2005-06.”

Later, there was the 2013-14 rapid survey on children (RSOC). This gave us a moderate stunting figure of 38.7 per cent, severe stunting of 17.3 per cent, moderate wasting of 15.1 per cent, severe wasting of 4.6 per cent, moderate under-weighting of 29.4 per cent and severe under-weighting of 9.4 per cent.

How much do such all-India figures help us? Indeed, how much do state-level figures help us? I think something like the 2011 HUNGaMA (hunger and malnutrition) survey is more useful. It ensures focus on districts, which district level household surveys (DLHS, 2012-13 is the last) also do. There are other numbers on ICDS (Integrated Child Development Services) beneficiaries. In this data clutter over NFHS, DLHS (with some states not covered), AHS (annual health survey, with limited coverage of states), RSOC and ICDS, and time lags in data and periodicity of surveys, I think everyone will agree that the more disaggregated the data, the better the intervention.

This leads to another issue. Does the ICDS, the primary scheme directed against malnutrition, work well? Probably not, otherwise, the National Nutrition Mission (NNM) wouldn’t have started. But with health being a state subject, something like the NNM or its counterpart needs to not only zero-in on broadening the ICDS, despite some complaints about its geographical coverage, but also ensure focus on specific districts (you can take your pick on whether the number is 100 or 200) and under-three malnutrition. We need counterparts not just at the state level but also at the levels of the district, block and even anganwadi. The report of the sub-group of chief ministers on Centrally sponsored schemes was submitted in October 2015 and that, too, clearly contemplates a broadening of the ICDS.

Source: Indian Express, 4-02-2015

Coming to grips with female foeticide

Union Minister for Women and Child Development Maneka Gandhi’s clarifications over her remarks on the existing ban on sex-selective abortions should put the focus back on the real issues. There are three aspects to the proposal that she put forth at a conference in Jaipur: establish the sex of the foetus when a pregnancy is detected; tell the mother about it and register the fact in public records; and ensure that deliveries happen only in institutions and not at home. This twin strategy of tracking sex-determined foetuses and requiring institutional deliveries is expected to ensure that female babies are not aborted, or killed at birth. While this idea might seem persuasive, like many technological fixes it betrays a worrying lack of awareness of social realities. The very attempt to record the status of the foetus involves the obvious risk of exposing women to undue psychological and social pressure to abort female foetuses. Two, such an intrusion by the state into a woman’s personal-biological space is unwelcome, even Orwellian. That such suggestions are being floated — no matter how quickly they are withdrawn in the face of criticism — is an indication of India’s persisting inability to address the problem of female foeticide, and the continuum of social ills that this practice reflects.

At the moment, there are few incentives for medical technicians, apart from public interest, to withhold information from families on the gender of the foetus. And when such violations have come to light, prosecution has been indifferent. Maharashtra is believed to have come down severely on errant doctors and clinics, which is significant given the likely impact the State’s large population could have on child sex ratios. The record of Punjab and Haryana, with a high prevalence of sex-selective abortions, also points to a modicum of enforcement. But there is a long way to go. After all, where traditional cultural norms dictate a strong preference for boys, recourse to medical technologies could well reinforce socially detrimental personal choices. Clearly, the emphasis ought to be on the reversal of India’s adverse sex ratio among children in the 0-6 year age group. On a national average, the number of girls for every 1,000 boys in this segment of the population dipped to 918 in the 2011 decennial population Census, with more disturbing regional variations. The corresponding figures were 927 and 933 in 1991 and 2001, respectively. Notably, Ms. Gandhi’s six-time constituency of Pilibhit in Uttar Pradesh has seen a sharp drop in the child sex ratio in the 2001-2011 inter-Census period. At 940, the figure was above the national average in 2001, but declined dramatically to 912 in the last Census. Pilibhit could easily set an example for the whole country, if only by a scrupulous compliance with the spirit of the Pre-Conception and Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (PCPNDT) Act, under which any disclosure of the foetal status is a punishable offence.

Keywords: Sex determination test, foetal sex determination, Maneka Gandhi

Source: The Hindu, 4-02-2016

The illusion of equity in the classroom

Success of a new education policy would depend on how it socialises the private and embeds the basic right to a quality education.

As the Right to Education (RTE) Act just completed five years of operation, it is time to take note of some facts. Kerala became the first State to achieve 100 per cent primary education, but in Uttar Pradesh, only 12 out of 75 districts have admitted students from disadvantaged groups to private schools. The Act mandates that schools reserve 25 per cent seats for these students. There are rumours that due to the pressure exerted by the private schools’ lobby, Karnataka may dilute the Act. A large number of Dalits, Adivasis and girls discontinue education because of discrimination in schools. And more than 60 per cent of urban primary schools are overcrowded, and about 50 per cent of Indian students cannot do basic mathematics or read a short story when they complete elementary education.

Equitable quality education

Universalising education involves issues of both distributive justice and quality. While the former concerns taking education to marginalised communities, the latter asks, ‘what counts as meaningful education?’ Considering that inadequate education affects the disadvantaged groups more severely, it is a possibility that these groups will end up with restricted opportunities and diminished outcomes given the market-driven economy we live in. The RTE, therefore, entails the right to equitable quality education. It is with this aim that India enacted the Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act, 2009. While it is too early to pass a judgment on the success of this Act, the initial trends are somewhat disappointing. According to the 2011 Census, the average literacy rates of people aged above 15 among Scheduled Castes (SCs) and Scheduled Tribes (STs) are about 9 per cent and 17.4 per cent less than the national average, respectively. The female literacy rate is 19.5 per cent less than that of males. This difference increases to 23 per cent and 23.5 per cent among the SCs and STs, respectively, indicating the double discrimination faced by Dalit and Adivasi women. The dropout rates among SCs and STs are significantly higher than the national average and more girls discontinue schooling than boys. Of course, there is a wide variation across States and the gap is wider in rural areas as compared to urban, but these statistics suggest significant inequalities in the distribution of educational opportunities.

The Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) 2014 reveals that enrolment in private schools has increased from 18.7 per cent in 2006 to 30.8 per cent in 2014. But has this increase been accompanied by a proportionate inclusion of disadvantaged groups?

The National University of Educational Planning and Administration’s 2011-12 report shows that only about 16 per cent of students from SCs and STs attend private schools and the average Indian household spends five times more money on each child annually if s/he is enrolled in a private school compared to a government school. It is reasonable to say that private schools are ordinarily more accessible to higher income groups.

ASER reports suggest that private schools fare only marginally better in terms of imparting quality education compared to government schools. While the ASER methodology of quantifying learning has been disputed, these statistics suggest that our education system has fared poorly on both equity and quality parameters.

The Constitution provides a flexible framework for a welfare state. Article 39 directs the state to frame policies that distribute the “ownership and control of the material resources of the community” such that it serves the “common good”, and “provide opportunities and facilities that enable children to develop in a healthy manner in conditions of freedom and dignity”. While Directive Principles are non-justiciable, Article 37 commands that they shall be “fundamental in the governance of the country and it shall be the duty of the State to apply these principles in making laws”. Initially, universal elementary education was a Directive Principle under Article 45. The fact that it was made a fundamental right vide the 86th Amendment does not jettison the egalitarian perspective that placed it in the same scheme as other Directive Principles, particularly those under Article 39.

The Kothari Commission recommended a common school system (CSS) to “bring the different social classes and groups together and thus promote the emergence of an egalitarian and integrated society”. It lamented that “instead of doing so, education itself is tending to increase social segregation and to perpetuate and widen class distinctions”. This results in the “anaemic and incomplete” education of both the rich and poor as it forecloses sharing of perspectives. The CSS was adopted by both the 1968 and 1986 national policies on education. While the interventions from ‘Operation Blackboard’ to Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan brought universalisation and quality to the forefront, the CSS was somehow relegated to the background.

The road ahead

The RTE Act provides for minimum quality standards and mandates 25 per cent reservation for children belonging to weaker sections. This provision has caused much debate. The Ministry of Human Resource Development has clarified that “the larger objective [of this provision] is to provide a common place where children sit, eat and live together for at least eight years of their lives across caste, class and gender divides in order that it narrows down such divisions in our society”. Four caveats could be issued here. One, in conceiving ‘disadvantaged groups’, we must also include children of sex workers, transgendered groups, disabled persons and minorities. Two, equality also means the right to be treated with dignity and respect. Three, the government must not abdicate its responsibility to make its schools inclusive. If Dalit children sit separately and clean toilets and girls perform stereotypical gender roles, then we have only engrafted inequality and entrenched hierarchies. Four, education itself needs to celebrate the diverse ways in which knowledge is transferred and acquired.

As the RTE Act emerges from its nascence and education statistics continue to disappoint on both quality and inclusion parameters, the government is deliberating the first education policy post-1991. Its success would depend on how it socialises the private and provides a vision for an equitable quality education.

(Ajey Sangai is a Research Fellow with Education Initiative at Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy.)

Keywords: Right to Education Act, Annual Status of Education Report

Source: The Hindu, 4-02-2016

Defending the diaspora

New Delhi ought to review the risks to its diaspora populations and create the capacity to act in their interests should the need arise — without offending foreign governments, of course.

Many people involved in the massive evacuation of Indian expatriates from Kuwait in 1990 are disappointed at the mischaracterisation of the role of the politicians, diplomats and airline officials inAirlift, a new Hindi film based on that incident. While film-makers have dramatic licence to set fiction against facts, diplomats are rightly upset that the story of the biggest ever air evacuation in history, carried out by a resource-strapped government in the throes of political and economic crises, has deliberately painted foreign service officers in negative light.

K.P. Fabian, who headed the Gulf desk at the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) during that episode, is quoted in this newspaper as saying “young people who are watching this film are getting a wrong impression of their history”. Nirupama Rao, former Foreign Secretary, criticised the production of falling short on its research. Even the MEA’s official spokesperson stepped in to set the record straight. It is unfortunate that the producers felt the need to reinforce popular prejudices of uncaring bureaucrats in that one area where that prejudice could not be more wrong.

Whatever you might think of the Indian government, when it comes to expatriate citizens in conflict zones, our diplomats go to great extents to ensure their safety. The airlift from Kuwait is only the biggest and the most famous one — more recently Indian diplomats and armed forces coordinated mass evacuations from Lebanon (in 2006), Libya (2011) and Yemen (2015). This is a job our diplomats, armed forces and airline officials do well, and it is unfair and self-defeating to cast them in poor light.

The damage, however, is done. But the public interest arising from the movie and the debate over the accuracy of its portrayal of the government’s role is a good opportunity to focus on the issue of diaspora security.

Indians around the world

According to government figures, as of January 2015, there were 11 million Non-Resident Indians (NRIs) and 17 million Persons of Indian Origin (PIOs) around the world. The largest populations were in the Gulf, the United States, United Kingdom, Southeast Asia and Nepal. On the thin end, there were seven Indians in North Korea, two in Nauru and one in Micronesia.

Until the turn of the century, the government’s relationship with overseas Indians has been twofold. Indian citizens (NRIs) were treated differently from ethnic Indians holding other citizenships. While the government concerned itself with the former, the latter were encouraged to be loyal and upstanding citizens of their respective countries.

In the recently released Netaji Files, in 1960, Prithi Singh, India’s envoy to Malaya, reminds headquarters that “our own expressed policy has been to encourage persons of Indian origin, domiciled abroad, to absorb themselves into the life of these countries and I feel that any step which we might take which helps them to maintain rigidly their emotional and/or communal links with India, actually prevents them from giving their whole-hearted loyalty to the countries of their adoption”.

This policy has served India and overseas Indians well. If the Indian diaspora is highly successful and integrated into the societies around the world, it is in part due to the fact that the loyalties of persons of Indian origin are beyond doubt. They might retain Indian customs and faith, but they bat for the interests of the country they are citizens of.

Courting the diaspora

The longstanding policy began to shift in the 1990s, with India looking East and West initially due to economic adversity and subsequently due to opportunity. The Atal Bihari Vajpayee government put the courtship on a formal footing with a high-level committee recommending the long-term visas under a PIO Card Scheme, a grand conference and recognition in the form of awards. The United Progressive Alliance government constituted an entire ministry for overseas Indians which, wisely, the Narendra Modi government has recently decided to merge back into the MEA.

No Prime Minister has gone so far out to court overseas Indians as Narendra Modi. Reaching out to the humble construction worker, the middle-class professional and the wealthy elite has galvanised the emotional links NRIs have with their home country. Mr. Modi has reinforced the growing feeling among NRIs since the turn of the century that India is a great country to be from.

Mr. Modi’s highly publicised engagement of overseas Indians changes the tenor of the government’s old policy to downplay their emotional links to India. It is for the Prime Minister to decide what the new policy should be. What we should recognise is that change comes with risks that need to be managed.

First, to the extent that New Delhi is seen to engage NRIs and protect their interests in foreign countries, foreign governments will not consider it an intrusion in their politics. However, if New Delhi begins to speak out on behalf of ethnic Indians who are not Indian citizens, then the interventions are likely to encounter resistance. In 2007, Malaysian politicians reacted viciously when Indian politicians made comments critical of Kuala Lumpur’s strong-arm tactics against its Indian minorities.

The modern world is constructed on the Westphalian model, where sovereign states relinquished their right to intercede on behalf of their religious and ethnic kin in other sovereign states. To violate this norm risks inviting any number of foreign interventions into our own domestic affairs.

Second, the reputation that PIOs have cultivated over several decades for being loyal citizens of the countries they live in can come under a shadow. In many parts of the non-Western world, countries are still reconciling with their nationhood and identity.

Any suspicion, even at the margin, of PIOs having multiple loyalties can be detrimental to their interests. Notice how the Singapore government insisted that only NRIs attend Mr. Modi’s public event, demarcating the line between its own citizens of Indian ethnicity and expatriates with Indian citizenship.

Airlifts of the future

Finally, the airlifts and naval evacuations of the future might be more complex in a context where there is a conflation of NRIs, PIO card-holders and other ethnic Indians with foreign citizenships. During crises when time and resources are tight, who should Indian diplomats prioritise? Will they have moral grounds to put non-citizens on a lower priority than citizens? If they do, what impact will it have on the Indian government’s reputation and the expectations it has created? New Delhi ought to review the political and security risks to its diaspora populations and create the capacity to act in their interests should the need arise.

It is unclear if India’s overstretched diplomatic corps has been tasked with paying greater attention to multilateral arrangements, institutions and agreements that pertain to diaspora-related interventions.

Similarly, the external intelligence establishment needs to be reoriented towards gathering and analysing information relating to the threats that diaspora populations might face. The conceptual move from defending the homeland to defending the diaspora needs a concomitant retooling of government machinery.

Diaspora security will require more naval ships, wider patrolling, foreign berthing and outposts. Military heavy lifting capacity apart, it will also require policy measures, like for instance, licence conditions in civil aviation requiring private airlines to put their aircraft and crew at the government’s disposal during emergencies.

The commitments that India makes require the state to have the capacity to redeem them. If we widen the scope of our commitments, we must invest in the capacity to carry out the airlifts of the future.

(Nitin Pai is director of the Takshashila Institution, an independent think tank and school of public policy.)

Keywords: Airlift, rescue of Indians in Yemen

Source- The Hindu, 4-02-2016

Anamika: This Religion Had No Name

Sri Chandrasekharendra Saraswathi





We speak of the “Hindu religion“, but the religion denoted by the term did not in fact have such a name originally . According to some, the word “Hindu“ means “love“; others say a Hindu is one who disapproves of himsa or violence. The term “Hindu religion“ does not occur in any ancient shastra ...The name “Hindu“ was given to us by foreigners. People from the West came to our land across the Sindhu River which they called “Indus“ or “Hind“ and the land adjacent to it by the name “India“. The religion of this land came to be called “Hindu“. The name of a neighbouring country is sometimes applied to the land adjacent to it ... However it may be, “Hinduism“ was not the name of our religion in the distant past. Nor was it known as “Vaidika Mata“ (vedic religion or as “sanatana dharma“ ­ the ancient or timeless religion). Our basic texts do not refer to our faith by any name.When I thought about it I felt that there was something deficient about our religion. All religions barring our own (Hindu religion) were established by single individuals. “Buddhism“ is named after Gautama Buddha; Jainism was founded by the Jina called Mahavira. Christianity has its origin in Jesus Christ.Our religion predating all these had spread all over the world. Since there was no other religion to speak about then it was not necessary to give it a name. When I recognised this fact I felt at once that there was no need to be ashamed of the fact that our religion had no name in the past.On the contrary , I felt proud about it ...Then who established it? Who was the founder of the Hindu religion? Was it Vyasa, who composed the Brahmasutra?
Or was it Krishna Paramatman who gave us the Bhagwad Gita? But both Vyasa and Krishna state that the vedas existed before them. If that be the case, are we to point to the rishis, the seers who gave us vedic mantras, as founders of our religion? But they themselves declare: “We did not create the vedas. When we chant a mantra we touch our head with our hand mentioning the name of one seer or another.“
But the sages themselves say: “It is true that the mantras became manifest to the world through us.That is why we are mentioned as the `mantra rishis'. But the mantras were not composed by us but revealed to us. When we sat meditating with our minds under control, the mantras were perceived by us in space.Indeed we saw them (hence the term mantra-drastas). We did not compose them (the seers are not mantra-kartas).“
All sounds originate in space. From them arose creation. According to science, the cosmos was produced from vibrations in space. By virtue of their austerities, sages had the gift of seeing the mantras in space, mantras that liberate men from this creation. The vedas are apauruseya (not the work of any human author) and are the very breath of the Paramatman in his form as space. The sages saw them and made a gift of them to the world.
If we know this truth, we have reason to be proud of the fact that we do not know who founded our religion.In fact we must feel happy that we have the great good fortune to be heirs to a religion that is eternal, a religion containing the vedas which are the very breath of the Paramatman.

Cases of cancer rise by 3% every year

Malathy Iyer

Mumbai:





40% Of Patients Die Annually In The Country

Cases of cancer, considered the worst of all maladies, have been rising 2-3% across the country annually , show data and estimates from the Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR).The figures, extrapolated from cancer registries across the country , show that if 10.28 lakh Indians were diagnosed with cancer in 2011, the number swelled by roughly 9% to 11.18 lakh in 2014. Correspondingly, the number of deaths increased, from 4.52 lakh in 2011 to 4.92 lakh in 2014. Every year, about four out of 10 cancer patients (or 40%) die. The rate can be as high as 70% for some types of cancer.
So, is India witnessing a surge in cancer cases? Given the above numbers and social facts such as rapid westernisation of diet and rising stress and pollution levels, it would seem so. But cancer specialists and epidemiologists beg to differ: there is no cancer epidemic sweeping across the country, they insist. They say the increase in numbers is in sync with the population increase.
Dr Rajendra Badwe, director of Tata Memorial Centre in Parel, said: “As the population increases and the proportion of people over 40 years increases, cancer cases in absolute numbers will increase.'' Medical statisticians like Dr Rajesh Dikshit in TMC use mathematical equations to work out age-standardised rates of cancer and point out that cancer rates in India have been more or less constant. “One has to understand that absolute numbers and rates are two different concepts,'' he said.
Dr Soumya Swaminathan, director of ICMR in Delhi, said her council works out estimates and projections based on previous incidence.“We don't think the numbers are worrisome,'' she said.
Badwe said cancer numbers are increasing across the world and India is no different.“I have been looking at the Mumbai cancer registry data and find that the incidence as well as mortality due to cancer has remained more or less constant.'' With prevalence of 3 million and annual incidence of 1 million, cancer is indeed a serious issue in India. “It kills around 5 lakh people annually owing to the advanced stage of the disease,“ said cancer surgeon Dr Pankaj Chaturvedi.
For the full report, log on to http:www.timesofindia.com
Breast cancer the deadliest of all types
Cervical cancer used to be the most common and biggest killer of Indian women among all cancers, claiming one life every seven minutes, according to data available in 2008. At that time, breast cancer -largely seen as an urban woman's bane -claimed one life every 10 minutes. Now, Globocan 2012, a software prepared by WHO's International Agency for Research on Cancer, has used data from the Census in 2011 to show that breast cancer has upstaged cervical cancer as the most common cancer among Indian women. In fact, Globocan 2012 shows that breast cancer affects 25 out of every 1,00,000 women in India; cervical cancer affects 22. Malathy Iyer
For the full report, log on to http:www.timesofindia.com

Source: Times of India, 4-02-2016