Tall claims of development, a shower of promises during elections, and then the harsh reality on the ground—this contradiction has once again been exposed in Katti village of the Bhallesa block in Doda district, where a critically ill person was carried on a charpoy for several miles on foot just to reach the nearest motorable road. This is not an isolated incident; rather, it reflects a system that appears impressive in rhetoric but consistently lags in action. At a time when the country is being projected as moving rapidly towards a “Viksit Bharat,” it becomes inevitable to ask: development for whom, and limited to which cities, regions, and sections of society?
The incident becomes even more disturbing when one considers that this area falls in a district that has representation at the national level, with a senior leader like Dr. Jitendra Singh holding an important position at the Centre. Despite this, if a patient in his native district still has to depend on a charpoy to reach a road, it is not merely an administrative lapse—it is a serious question mark on the collective conscience of governance.
After the reshaping of the political landscape in Jammu and Kashmir, people were promised change, transparency, and improved facilities. However, such hopes seem to crumble repeatedly in the face of incidents like this. The present elected government is led by Omar Abdullah, while a significant share of administrative authority rests with the Lieutenant Governor’s administration under Manoj Sinha. In such a scenario, fixing responsibility is not difficult; the real question is, who will actually accept it?
A road is not a luxury project. It is a basic prerequisite for healthcare, education, employment, and human dignity. In villages without road connectivity, ambulances cannot reach patients, teachers cannot come regularly, children are deprived of dreams of higher education, and youth remain cut off from employment opportunities. In such areas, slogans like “Digital India” and “smart governance” sound more like mockery than meaningful commitments.
Every election witnesses a flood of promises, and every budget presents impressive figures for development schemes. Yet, when a sick person has to be carried on a charpoy to reach medical help, all these statistics lose their relevance. This incident is not just about one patient; it symbolizes the failure of an entire system where files move, meetings are held, and announcements are made, but roads never reach the ground.
This editorial is not about blaming a single party, a particular government, or one official. It is a call for collective accountability. The Centre, the elected government of Jammu and Kashmir, and the Lieutenant Governor’s administration—all three must answer a fundamental question: how long will people in mountainous and remote areas continue to be neglected? When will lofty claims of development translate into reality? And when will human life be given priority over political rhetoric?
If incidents like these continue to occur without prompt and serious corrective action, public trust in the system will naturally erode. Demanding a road is not a political demand; it is a basic right linked to life itself. The continuous denial of this right is, in itself, a grave indictment—one that cannot be addressed through statements and assurances alone, but only through concrete and visible action on the ground.
