More than 4.7 lakh counterfeit NCERT textbooks have been confiscated across India since 2024, the Ministry of Education revealed in the Rajya Sabha this week. The large-scale crackdown is part of NCERT’s renewed efforts to combat textbook piracy and safeguard access to authentic, affordable learning materials for students nationwide.

Responding to a written query in the Upper House, Minister of State for Education Jayant Chaudhary stated that textbook piracy has been rampant across multiple states, driven primarily by commercial interests of unauthorised entities. Between 2024 and 2025, over 4.71 lakh fake NCERT books were seized during enforcement operations.

In a series of raids across 29 locations suspected of producing or distributing counterfeit books, NCERT officials also uncovered stocks of fake watermarked paper and high-end printing equipment — collectively worth over ₹20 crore. These raids aimed not only to halt the illegal printing supply chain but also to reinforce the credibility of NCERT materials.

“NCERT textbooks are printed on a no-profit, no-loss basis to reach every child in the country,” Chaudhary reiterated in his reply.

To further stem the piracy tide, NCERT has taken several preventive steps, including reducing textbook prices by 20%, modernising printing methods, and making books more widely available through e-commerce platforms. These steps are aimed at reducing dependency on black-market sources by ensuring affordable and timely textbook access.

In collaboration with IIT Kanpur, NCERT also piloted a tech-based anti-piracy solution using a patented mechanism in one million copies of a Class 6 book. This innovation allows books to be tracked and authenticated, potentially creating a digital trail to curb piracy in the future.

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In a notification issued on Monday, to enhance student safety and ensure accountability on school campuses, the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) has mandated the installation of high-resolution CCTV cameras with real-time audio-visual recording across all affiliated schools.

According to the notification, the board has amended its Affiliation Bye Laws-2018, requiring the installation of CCTV cameras at all critical points within school premises, including classrooms, corridors, libraries, staircases, and other key areas—excluding washrooms and toilets. The footage must have a minimum backup of 15 days and should be made available to authorities upon request.

This directive is part of CBSE’s broader commitment to ensuring students’ physical and emotional well-being. It aims to create safer learning environments by preventing bullying, intimidation, and other implicit threats. The move also aligns with the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights (NCPCR)’s ‘Manual on Safety and Security of Children in Schools’, released in 2021, which outlines safety protocols for creating secure and supportive school settings.

In the official circular, CBSE Secretary Himanshu Gupta stated, “Children have a constitutional right to live with dignity and access education in a safe and supportive environment. The safety has two aspects — from unscrupulous, un-societal elements and from implicit threats like bullying. All such threats can be addressed using modern surveillance technologies.”

The board noted that bullying significantly impacts student self-esteem and mental health. “Children require a healthy and nurturing environment to thrive. This decision is part of our effort to foster that environment,” the notification read.

While many private schools have welcomed the move, citing improved monitoring and security, several government school representatives expressed concern over the implementation. They highlighted the need to repair existing non-functional cameras before investing in new technology.

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As implementation begins, the directive reinforces CBSE’s stance on prioritising student safety through proactive and tech-enabled solutions.

For Sandhya Ukkalkar, the path to becoming an educator in the field of special education was never just a professional decision — it was deeply personal. It began in the quiet, determined moments of motherhood, as she searched for a school that could truly understand her son’s unique needs. Diagnosed with Autism and Intellectual Disability, he required more than care — he needed acceptance, structure, and a nurturing environment.

In 1996, a compassionate doctor guided her to Jai Vakeel School. From the moment her son was enrolled, Sandhya witnessed a transformation that brought not only relief, but hope. Encouraged by the school’s doctor, she enrolled in a special education course, and by June 2000, she returned to the same institution — this time as a teacher. Over the years, she grew into the role of Principal of the Autism Centre at Jai Vakeel, dedicating her life to children who, like her son, simply needed to be seen, understood, and supported.

What sets the Autism Centre apart is not just its experience or legacy, but its guiding philosophy: a child-led, strengths-based approach that celebrates neurodiversity. Here, each learner follows an Individualised Education Plan (IEP), supported through small groups, one-on-one sessions, and methodologies that include Applied Behaviour Analysis (ABA), Sensory Integration, and Visual Supports. The goal isn’t to fit children into a mould but to honour their unique ways of engaging with the world.

Serving children aged 3 to 18, the centre focuses on early intervention, functional academics, and pre-vocational training — all grounded in a multisensory curriculum aligned with NCF and NCERT. For the 31 students with Autism and Intellectual Disability who currently attend, the emphasis lies on building communication and sensory skills that can translate into real-world independence.

Sandhya believes collaboration is the cornerstone of success. At the centre, therapists, educators, parents, and healthcare professionals work as a unified team. Over 75% of the children served come from low-income families, and many receive free or subsidised education and therapy through rural camps and outreach programs.

“These aren’t luxuries,” Sandhya insists, referring to tools like sensory rooms and assistive tech. “They’re essentials.”

And the results are deeply moving. Children who once struggled with attention now engage joyfully in sessions. Some who were non-verbal begin to use gestures, visuals, and eventually words. Others transition into mainstream schools. One student, now preparing for CA exams, once needed foundational classroom readiness support. These are not isolated cases — they are the product of consistent, individualised attention and belief.

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For Sandhya, the real victories come in the smallest moments: a child pointing to a picture to communicate, another who finally sits through a full session, or a parent whispering “thank you” with tears in their eyes. These everyday breakthroughs are everything.

Her personal experience as a parent gives Sandhya a unique lens. She understands the fears, hopes, and quiet triumphs families carry. That’s why parental involvement is not optional at the centre — it’s essential. Families regularly participate in progress meetings, classroom observations, and hands-on training. Home goals — practical and doable — are shared, and customised visual aids help ensure continuity beyond school hours. Emotional support is offered just as readily as academic strategies.

Still, the challenges are real. There is a pressing shortage of professionals trained in autism-specific interventions, especially for students with high support needs. Assistive communication tools are expensive and often out of reach. Space is limited, even as demand grows. Sandhya dreams of expanding — with dedicated sensory rooms, inclusive playgrounds, and classrooms designed for neurodivergent learners. “These help children feel safe, calm, and ready to learn,” she says.

Her vision for the future is clear: inclusion that goes beyond tokenism. She dreams of classrooms where neurodivergent children aren’t merely accommodated, but genuinely valued — where belonging is a given, not a gift. To get there, she believes we must build on three pillars: Mindset (a shift from awareness to true acceptance), Capacity (training educators, therapists, and families), and Belonging (where every child is emotionally safe and socially included).

As she looks ahead, Sandhya hopes to increase enrolment, offer structured training for parents and teachers, partner with inclusive schools for smooth transitions, and support students well into adulthood — through vocational training, community participation, and self-advocacy.

Her journey is a reminder that special education isn’t just about what children need — it’s about what they deserve.

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Because, as Sandhya says,
“In every smile, there’s a victory. And every child deserves to smile.”

Read the full story in our issue of Teacher Warriors 2025 here.

The Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) is considering the introduction of a two-level system for Science and Mathematics in Classes 11 and 12. The plan is aimed at offering students the flexibility to choose the difficulty level of STEM subjects based on their future academic or career aspirations.

As reported by India Today and originally learnt through The Sunday Express, the proposal is an extension of an existing model implemented in Classes 9 and 10. In Class 10 Mathematics, for instance, students currently choose between Basic and Standard versions during board exams—a move that has allowed students not pursuing Mathematics further to pass with confidence and reduced stress.

The upcoming shift aligns with the broader vision of the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, which encourages flexible, multidisciplinary learning and student-centric academic pathways.

What the Two-Tier System Means

Under the proposed system, students eyeing careers in fields like engineering or medicine could opt for advanced-level Mathematics or Science, while those focused on the arts, commerce, or vocational pathways could select a standard or foundational version of these subjects.

This customisation acknowledges the diversity of learner needs and aims to reduce the one-size-fits-all pressure that has long characterised India’s board exam-driven system.

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Changes Ahead for Schools

If approved, the shift would require significant operational changes in schools—ranging from separate classes for the two levels to revised textbooks, updated assessments, and teacher training. CBSE is expected to issue detailed implementation guidelines after further consultation.

While still under consideration, this move marks a progressive step toward making STEM education more accessible, relevant, and aligned with students’ interests and life goals.

In a heartwarming gesture of gratitude, the Indian Army has pledged to fully sponsor the education of 10-year-old Shvan Singh, a young boy from Punjab’s Ferozepur district who supported troops with food and water during the intense gunfire of Operation Sindoor.

During the cross-border conflict in early May, Shvan—then mistakenly reported as ‘Svarn’ Singh—fearlessly stepped up to help soldiers stationed near Tara Wali village, just 2 km from the international border. With lassi, tea, milk, and ice in hand, the Class 4 student made repeated trips, delivering supplies to the troops amid ongoing shelling and sniper fire.

Moved by his courage, the Golden Arrow Division of the Indian Army has now taken full responsibility for Shvan’s educational expenses. In a formal ceremony held at Ferozepur Cantonment, Lt Gen Manoj Kumar Katiyar, General Officer Commanding-in-Chief of the Western Command, felicitated the boy and applauded his spirit of service.

“I want to become a ‘fauji’ when I grow up. I want to serve the country,” Shvan had told media in May. His father added, “We are proud of him. Even the soldiers loved him.”

Shvan’s actions during Operation Sindoor—India’s strategic missile strike on nine terror camps across the border in retaliation to the Pahalgam attack—have now turned him into a symbol of quiet heroism and youthful patriotism.

In a world where headlines are often dominated by despair, Shvan’s story reminds us that bravery has no age—and that the seeds of service can bloom early.

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A national workshop was held on July 18, 2025, at Kaushal Bhawan, New Delhi. Organised jointly by the Ministry of Education (DoSE&L), the Ministry of Skill Development and Entrepreneurship (MSDE), and the National Council for Vocational Education and Training (NCVET), the event brought together more than 150 delegates, including senior officials from 24 State and Union Territory education boards.

The central aim of the workshop was to help State Boards apply for recognition as Dual Category Awarding Bodies under NCVET. This status enables boards to both conduct training and assess students in vocational courses aligned with the National Skills Qualification Framework (NSQF), particularly up to Level 4 — which includes critical entry-level skill training linked to employment.

The initiative is part of the government’s broader effort to implement the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and ensure vocational education is deeply integrated within the school system.

Officials from MSDE and NCVET emphasised that becoming a Dual Category Awarding Body places greater responsibility on State Boards — not just to conduct assessments, but to maintain quality standards in vocational pedagogy and learner outcomes.

A highlight of the workshop was a hands-on session where States received live technical support to complete their applications. As a result, all 24 participating States began their onboarding process, while six States — Goa, Maharashtra, Himachal Pradesh, Assam, Madhya Pradesh, and Nagaland — completed and submitted their applications. The Goa Board also shared its experience through a case study.

In the stillness of the COVID-19 lockdown—when the world hit pause and uncertainty gripped communities—Monika Banga quietly sparked something radical. Not radical in funding or scale, but in spirit. Born out of a moment of global stillness, The LightBeam Project wasn’t launched with loud declarations or big grants. It began as something far more intimate: a bridge between continents, classrooms, and possibilities.

But Ms. Monika’s journey didn’t start there. It began over a decade earlier, in under-resourced classrooms where she worked with children who had never known structured learning, or imagined speaking with someone from another country. With over 12 years of experience, she didn’t just teach—she listened. And what she heard, again and again, was a hunger not for food, but for discovery, belonging, and expression.

When the Granny Cloud initiative—a volunteer-driven project that connected retired educators with children—came to a close, Monika felt the silence it left behind. Along with her friend and fellow educationist Lesley Keast from Spain, she wondered: What if that spark of connection could be reignited? That one idea gave birth to The LightBeam Project. It began modestly: a handful of volunteers, one school, a few curious children, and shaky internet. But it carried a powerful belief: every child has the right to dream, and someone, somewhere, will listen.

Unlike traditional education interventions, LightBeam didn’t come with a manual. It came with open-ended conversations. Sessions inspired by SOLE (Self-Organised Learning Environments) nudged children toward self-discovery. Initially, the children were hesitant.

“They were used to answers, not questions,” Monika recalls.

But soon, wonder took over. They began asking: Why do we age? What if all insects disappeared? These weren’t sessions—they became rituals of curiosity.

As their questions deepened, so did their digital skills. Devices once used for distraction turned into tools of creation. Children began making digital presentations, recording videos, and sharing local traditions with volunteers across the globe. One girl proudly made a Canva slideshow introducing her Beamer to her village’s customs. These weren’t just projects. They were windows into identity.

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Lesley Keast, one of LightBeam’s earliest volunteers, reflects on the transformation she’s seen. “The children now have SOLE sessions in their learning DNA. They own the enquiry. They direct the wonder.” For her, the project isn’t just about teaching—it’s about being part of a global community stitched together by purpose. “Our WhatsApp and Facebook groups are more than admin tools. They’re our digital campfires,” she smiles.

Sometimes, it’s the smallest moments that leave the biggest marks. In one session disrupted by technical issues, Lesley recorded a video and sent it to the students with a few questions. They responded with videos of their own. One came from Ruby, a student who had never spoken during any session. With support from her peers, she sent a video back—radiant with confidence. “That’s when the ice cracked,” Lesley said.

In another session, students chose their own topics and returned with insights on dark matter and Freud. “We thought those were far beyond them,” Lesley said. “But with no ceilings, they soared.”

The LightBeam Project has no classrooms. And that’s its strength. By embedding itself into existing schools—like DIKSHA in Gurgaon—it stays grounded. DIKSHA, Monika shares, has been a pillar, ensuring support, space, and safety for these sessions. The absence of fixed walls creates a flexibility rare in educational systems. Sessions can happen anywhere children and curiosity meet.

The project’s growth depends on sustained partnerships—with schools, funders, and storytellers. “Support in storytelling,” Monika says, “goes a long way. Stories beam us into places we’ve never been.”

For teachers who feel trapped by rigid systems, Monika’s advice is gentle: Start small. Ask students what they’re curious about. Let them explore. Joy isn’t the enemy of rigour—it fuels it. And agency doesn’t create chaos. It creates connection.

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Through The LightBeam Project, Monika Banga has redefined what education looks like in a post-pandemic world. Not transmission, but transformation. Not instruction, but invitation. Each call is a candle lit. Each question, a door opened. Each child, a beam of light—brighter than the last.

The University of Southampton has launched its fully operational campus in Gurugram, becoming the first foreign university to do so under the University Grants Commission’s (UGC) regulations.

The UK-based institution received its Letter of Intent last year and completed the campus within 12 months. Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan and Haryana Chief Minister Nayab Singh Saini inaugurated the campus on Wednesday, calling it a milestone for NEP 2020 and the India-UK Roadmap 2030.

“This sets a precedent for internationalisation at home and for India’s vision of becoming a global knowledge hub,” Pradhan said.

Beginning in 2025, the campus will offer UK-aligned undergraduate and postgraduate programmes, including BSc degrees in Computer Science, Economics, Business Management, and Accounting & Finance, as well as MSc degrees in Finance and International Management. Students will also have the option to study up to one year at Southampton’s UK or Malaysia campuses.

Pradhan urged the university to introduce strong STEM offerings and focus on global challenges. Haryana CM Saini welcomed the initiative as a boost to Gurugram’s emergence as an education and innovation hub.

The university will recruit 75+ faculty members with international credentials. The inaugural student cohort includes candidates from India, the UAE, and Nepal.

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Higher Education Secretary Vineet Joshi added that the UGC’s streamlined guidelines are enabling more such collaborations, helping position India as an attractive destination for international education.

The University of Southampton is a Russell Group institution and ranks among the top 100 universities worldwide. Its Gurugram campus is expected to strengthen India’s global academic ties and offer students a world-class, locally accessible education.

In the heart of Puducherry, where colonial buildings wear salt stains and stories, lives a woman quietly orchestrating a revolution — barefoot, graceful, and defiant. Krithiga Ravichandran, a Bharatanatyam dancer and Assistant Professor of Computer Science, moves between two seemingly different worlds. But look closer, and both are bound by the same rhythm — teaching, nurturing, and transforming.

Born into a family where the arts were heritage, not hobby, Krithiga was raised by the sounds of mridangam, violin, and Carnatic ragas. Her earliest memories? Her grandmother reciting jathis while tapping on a steel plate. “That was my first dance class,” she recalls. “No stage. Just the veranda and a heart full of movement.” By five, she was training formally in Bharatanatyam. And yet, even then, she saw how exclusionary the classical arts could be. The costs — of costumes, jewellery, music recordings — kept so many young girls out.

In 2014, on her birthday, Krithiga founded the Veer Foundation of Arts and Culture Trust, inspired by her father’s values of service. With it, she began offering free Bharatanatyam classes to underprivileged girls. These weren’t just lessons in movement, but in identity. Under temple porticos, community halls, and now small studios, these girls train rigorously — not to perform for others, but to discover themselves.

When she’s not dancing, Krithiga teaches Computer Science at Indira Gandhi Arts and Science College.

“Whether I’m breaking down a loop or a mudra, it’s the same joy — watching a student’s eyes light up.”

Her days begin with code and end in abhinaya. Yet, this rhythm energizes her — it’s how she lives her purpose.

Over the years, shy girls who once hesitated to speak now take the stage with confidence. Dance has offered them more than grace — it has given them resilience. “They come unsure,” Krithiga says. “But they bloom. They plan rehearsals, mentor juniors, manage logistics. They lead.” What begins as dance becomes training in leadership, storytelling, budgeting, and cultural memory.

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Dancers in the Making, Leaders in the Wings

In a pioneering move, Krithiga introduced Bharatanatyam as a therapeutic tool inside Puducherry’s Central Prison. “It was experimental,” she admits. “But we saw remarkable change — calmness, awareness, even hope.”

Some questioned her decision. “Why offer sacred art to prisoners?” But she insists: “Who better to understand longing and repentance?” To Krithiga, art must include. Art must heal.

Creating safe, inclusive spaces for marginalised girls remains central to her vision. “They don’t just need a guru. They need a safe adult.” She counsels, supports, and makes sure no girl feels alone. From arranging transport to lending jewellery, she builds a circle of trust around them. Much of it runs on her own earnings. “If you believe in something, you fund it — with time, energy, and soul.”

Though she receives small donations — old costumes, music books — she’s kept the work intimate and rooted. “Every piece of jewellery on stage has a story,” she says. “Someone’s daughter outgrew it, someone remembered their Arangetram. It’s a circle of generosity.”

“Dance Doesn’t Ask Who You Are. It Asks, How Do You Feel?”

Krithiga’s vision is to build a holistic centre for classical arts — with a stage, library, wellness wing, and space for reflection. “I don’t want to just train dancers. I want to raise artists — those who know the pulse of the past and can choreograph the future.”

To her, Bharatanatyam isn’t ornamental. It’s essential. A language of liberation — especially for those the world forgets to watch.