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The Hindu
an hour ago
- Health
- The Hindu
Scrapping M.Phil Clinical Psychology may harm mental health services, cause confusion: Psychologists
Mental health is a serious issue in the country with growing incidence and reporting of stress, depression and anxiety. In this scenario, dilution or degradation of the training required for mental health professionals can have serious consequences. There is a distinction, however, between Psychiatrists and Clinical Psychologists who treat or support the mentally ill. Whereas to be a psychiatrist requires one to be an MBBS doctor besides having an M.D. in Psychiatry, this is not required from a Clinical Psychologist who fulfill the needs of many people having mental issues but do not necessarily require to be seen by a psychiatric doctor. The Clinical Psychology degree, recognized by the Rehabilitation Council of India (RCI), has been a requirement for getting a license to practice clinical psychology. However, the new National Education Policy has sought to discontinue all M. Phil courses after the Master's degree. This has put in jeopardy the M. Phil Clinical Psychology, a professional training course for those who want to practice as clinical psychologists. The M. Phil course is a two-year hospital-based training course taken after the three-year undergraduate degree plus the two-year post-graduate psychology course. How the new course will be named and what its structure — in terms of theory and practicals requirements —will be are not yet known. RCI sources say the University Grants Commission (UGC) has not finalised the new name and the structure and the announcement will be made after the UGC's decision. Many clinical psychologists say that the training must not be discontinued or diluted in any fashion. While recognising the need for many more qualified clinical psychologists to serve India's growing mental health crisis, they assert that any dilution of the training will not serve the purpose but harm the cause of mental health, and instead advocate an increase in the number of seats. Many students who aspire to be clinical psychologists are uncertain of what course they should do since the future of the M. Phil course is in question. T. B. Singh, retired Professor of Clinical Psychology at the Institute of Human Behaviour and Allied Sciences, Delhi, says the proposed changes 'disrupt' a time-tested, well reciprocated and well-established curriculum-based training of mental health professionals that has been effective in the last seven decades. Need for recognition Former general secretary of the Indian Association of Clinical Psychologists and Professor, Department of Psychology, University of Delhi, Dr Manoj Bajaj says several representations to the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment as well as to the Prime Minister on this matter has been of no avail. Disappointed with this attitude of the government now he demands creation of an independent Psychological Council, through an Act of Parliament to regulate, monitor and guide government on policy and issues pertaining exclusively to psychology profession in India. Dr. Bajaj says he does not want the concerns of psychologists dealing with mental health to be clubbed with those of rehabilitators of other physical disabilities. 'Current regulating bodies for the clinical psychology profession in India are not quite interested in the regulation of psychology as a profession and are more interested in disability and special education field.' Dr. Swati Kedia Gupta, Assistant Professor Clinical Psychology, Department of Psychiatry, All India Institute of Medical Sciences, Delhi, says that nearly 80% of people with mental health issues don't receive any treatment in India, according to the National Mental Health Survey conducted in India in 2016. 'Where mental health issues are increasing exponentially it is important to create trained manpower to deal with the issues,' she adds. She says that replacing two years M. Phil in Clinical Psychology, which was adding another two years of study to the existing five years of graduation and post-graduation in Psychology, may be a 'welcome step' but its implementation must be done 'cautiously.' ' Clinical Psychology, unlike its theoretical counterpart, was conceived as a rigorous two-year hospital-based course with training in line with M.D. Psychiatry course', she added. Therefore, she said the Rehabilitation Council of India (RCI) should use 'utmost discretion' regarding which institutions should be allowed to run the new course. The nomenclature of the professional course should distinguish it from post-graduate courses not recognized by the RCI. The proposal to name M. Phil Clinical Psychology as M.A. Clinical Psychology will create confusion with M.A. Psychology and M.A. Applied Psychology, she added. Strongly opposing any dilution of the structure and emphasising the significance of the nomenclature, the president of Clinical Psychology Society of India, Dr. Jamuna Rajeswaran said that M. Phil in Clinical Psychology course had been a 'time tested' training program producing well trained mental health professionals to serve the needy community since the last 70 years. She said the proposed change of nomenclature from M. Phil in Clinical Psychology to M.A. in Clinical Psychology is a 'retrograde step and can cause irreparable harm to the profession Clinical Psychology'. She said the change 'undermines the profession's integrity, dilutes the specialized training, and compromises public welfare.' Former Senior Professor Applied Psychology, University of Delhi, Dr. S. P. K. Jena said if the nomenclature is changed from Clinical Psychology to M.A. Clinical Psychology, the RCI-approved professional training course will be confused with the previous non-professional academic programs with the same nomenclature. 'To my knowledge these academic programs have not been stopped by any notification either by the UGC or the RCI. Therefore, ordinary people may get confused,' he says. He said the existing M. Phil Clinical Psychology program is clearly distinguishable. Opens the doors to non-professionals Dr Rithvik Kashyap, Associate Professor and Head, Department of Clinical Psychology, JSS Medical College and Hospital, Mysuru, Karnataka, says that India is slowly moving towards experiencing a silent pandemic of mental health issues with growth of internet, technology, gaming addictions. It becomes very hard for a common man to recognize a qualified mental health professional amidst a huge number of individuals with only hours or days of online certification claiming to help the vulnerable who might do more harm then help through unethical practices and exploitations. He said only those who undergo the rigorous professional training of a two-year M. Phil in Clinical Psychology in a hospital setting with various psychological assessments, diagnosis and structured psychotherapies are 'competent' to serve individuals with mental health issues. A change of nomenclature from M. Phil Clinical Psychology to M.A. Clinical Psychology would be 'irrational' and will only create more confusion among public. They will be unable to differentiate an academic degree holder from a professionally trained, qualified registered professional to help them with their psychosocial concerns, he added.
Time of India
4 days ago
- Business
- Time of India
Janpath: A people's path now forgotten
If somebody writes an epitaph to Sangita, it should be headlined 'Happy Soul'. Nothing fazes her. No challenge is too big. A fan of James Bond's 'never say die' spirit, just like him she thrives on adrenalin rush as she fields every curveball life throws her way. Sangita is a person with multiple disabilities. A patient of Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), Sangita is a wheelchair user and hearing aids user. For the past 10 years, she has been whizzing past life in a wheelchair, notching professional milestones. She believes nothing is insurmountable, certainly not limitations imposed by disabilities. Sangita has three decades of experience in the media, content and communications industry across verticals and industries. She has been associated with the development and disability sector and featured in the first Directory of Development Journalists in India published by the PII. She has also functioned as a media representative of the Rehabilitation Council of India and has conducted various S&A programmes for bureaucrats. Sangita is the founder of Ashtavakra Accessibility Solutions Private Limited, a social enterprise dedicated to the inclusion of the disabled. LESS ... MORE The history of Janpath is older than you or me. Older than modern Delhi itself, in some ways. Once the beating heart of Lutyens' Delhi, Janpath was more than a road—it was a rhythm. A pulsating, living artery of craft, culture, and commerce that brought together locals, domestic tourists, international backpackers, and curious drifters, all drawn to its kinetic charm. If Delhi was a body, Janpath was the nerve that lit it up. The name Janpath—literally, The People's Path—wasn't just poetic branding. It was an ethos. In a city known for high walls, power corridors, and social silos, Janpath was democratic. You could be a diplomat's daughter or a first-time traveller with a shoestring budget, and you'd still end up sipping cold coffee from Depaul's and buying a pair of handmade earrings from a Rajasthani vendor who'd swear they were silver. Everyone bargained. Everyone lingered. Everyone returned. Before it became Janpath, the road was part of Queen's Way during the British Raj, constructed as a ceremonial boulevard alongside the grand Central Vista. But while Rajpath (now Kartavya Path) stayed tethered to officialdom, its sister street—Janpath—broke free. It became the people's republic of small pleasures. Each kiosk on Janpath was a time capsule of regional identity. Gujarat sent its mirrorwork. Kashmir sent its pashmina. Nagaland sent beads and cane. Rajasthan sent block prints. West Bengal sent terracotta. Everything that you'd otherwise need to travel the country to collect—Janpath brought it all to one crowded street. It was India's pop-up museum of the handmade, the homespun, the street-smart. My association with Delhi—and with Janpath—is older than I am. My parents lived in Delhi in the '60s, and we returned each year during the school holidays. Some of my earliest memories involve the scent of sandalwood wafting through the stalls, the gleam of copper bells, the feel of cotton kurtis hanging loosely on metal rods, and the sound of languages—so many languages—mingling in the air. Later, as a student at Delhi University, Janpath became a ritual. A midweek escape. A happy place. We'd hop on a bus with 20 rupees in our pockets and the whole day ahead. Wandering. Laughing. Browsing. Then ending the day with a snack from a nondescript joint or a creamy cold coffee from Depaul's, which, like Janpath itself, seemed to never change. Years later, as Managing Editor of India Now, the India Brand Equity Foundation's flagship publication, I had the chance to walk those lanes again—but this time professionally. I was reporting a feature story on legacy markets of Delhi and their role in India's cultural soft power. Naturally, Janpath was on the list. I retraced my steps through the market, unearthing generational tales from each store. It was a walk down memory lane—with a journalist's notepad in hand. Stories of a grandfather or great-grandfather setting up shop when the market came up, of ministers' wives and international dignitaries in search of 'authentic India', and of tourists from across the world came pouring out. It took me several visits to Janpath to piece their stories. I remember scribbling notes furiously while sipping Depaul's iconic coffee and thinking: this place deserves to be on the world map. But something had already started to slip even then. The store owners also spoke of declining footsteps and revenue. Then came the silence. Not the silence of nostalgia, but of absence. My sojourns to Janpath ended abruptly when I became a wheelchair user. A broken footpath, a single step, a crowded walkway—these small obstacles become walls when you move on wheels. Inaccessibility crept in like a slow disease. Not because Janpath had changed all at once, but because the city hadn't cared to change with me. Delhi has always had a complicated relationship with accessibility—beautiful on the surface, brutal beneath it. And yet, my love endured. Like many things in life, it became long-distance. I'd drive by Janpath just to feel close. I'd leave the engine running while my driver dashed into Depaul's for my regular. I'd sit parked illegally, scanning for traffic cops, heart swelling with the familiar noise and scent of that place. A fragment of a former routine—but one that kept the memory alive. Because Janpath was still alive. Until it wasn't. I visited recently. I wheeled in with hope—and yes, I ended up shopping. I found those handcrafted juttis you never find online. I haggled over oxidized jewellery. I tried on funky trendy and dirt cheap shades at the same stall I'd known all my life. It was a hot, muggy day, but the joy was real. And I still ended the visit with a cold coffee, thick with nostalgia and slightly over-sweet. But something had shifted. The iconic bookstore in Janpath's cul-de-sac corner–now a closed chapter. Several stalls—gone. Whole sections—dusty, dirty and dead. Piles of garbage waiting forlornly. Janpath now wears decay like a borrowed coat. The grit that once gave it character now just feels like neglect. What was once a wild, colourful jungle of creativity now feels like a museum no one curates. A place caught between its legacy and its future, waiting for someone to care. A makeover is no longer a matter of taste—it's a matter of survival. Because cities have short memories, and public spaces don't preserve themselves. Once lost, Janpath won't come back in the same form. And if we're not careful, we'll wake up one day to find it replaced by some sanitised arcade that sells nothing handmade, tells no stories, and caters to no one except global brands and real estate profits. And accessibility? Perish the thought. Someone has attempted a tactile path—but it's as if the contractor installed it with their eyes closed. It winds awkwardly through the market—starting nowhere, ending nowhere. It loops awkwardly around obstacles, and ends in a dead end – a closed door literally. A tragicomic token gesture, more insult than inclusion. It's not just about wheelchair access; it's about dignity. About making sure everyone can participate in the city's pleasures. We can wait a little longer for Sugamya Bharat. But can we at least get a Swachh Bharat in the meantime? Clean streets. Working drains. Thoughtful footpaths. Basic respect. Janpath was never about perfection. It was about possibility. About bumping into strangers, discovering something unexpected, and walking away with more than you bargained for. It was—and still can be—a space where culture is lived, not just displayed. Today, it stands on the edge. Beloved Janpath, I rue your ruin. But I haven't given up on you yet. You gave us so much—memories, music, mayhem, and meaning. You were our informal embassy of Indian identity. A market of the people. A street of stories. Thank you—for a happy day. For many happy days. Nostalgia works like dopamine. But preservation works like love. Let's show Janpath some. Before it's too late. Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
The Hindu
21-06-2025
- Health
- The Hindu
Applications invited for B. ED Special Education- Multiple Disabilities
Applications are invited for a two year course in in Special education – Multiple disabilities offered by Vidya Sagar, a 40-year-old, Chennai-based organisation working with people with disabilities. It is a full time regular course, on completion of which, the graduate can work in a mainstream school or a special school, start their own rehab center, take up Teacher Eligibility Test for government jobs, or do higher studies and get into research. This course is affiliated to the Tamil Nadu Teacher Education University, has the equivalence of General education and is recognised by the Rehabilitation Council of India. To know more, contact 9840035203 or mail hrd@
Time of India
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Marriage for persons with disabilities: A choice, not a financial incentive
If somebody writes an epitaph to Sangita, it should be headlined 'Happy Soul'. Nothing fazes her. No challenge is too big. A fan of James Bond's 'never say die' spirit, just like him she thrives on adrenalin rush as she fields every curveball life throws her way. Sangita is a person with multiple disabilities. A patient of Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), Sangita is a wheelchair user and hearing aids user. For the past 10 years, she has been whizzing past life in a wheelchair, notching professional milestones. She believes nothing is insurmountable, certainly not limitations imposed by disabilities. Sangita has three decades of experience in the media, content and communications industry across verticals and industries. She has been associated with the development and disability sector and featured in the first Directory of Development Journalists in India published by the PII. She has also functioned as a media representative of the Rehabilitation Council of India and has conducted various S&A programmes for bureaucrats. Sangita is the founder of Ashtavakra Accessibility Solutions Private Limited, a social enterprise dedicated to the inclusion of the disabled. LESS ... MORE Before saying 'Yes,' I had one clear condition: the decision had to be free from pity or mere romantic idealism. Love alone wasn't enough—it had to be grounded in the profound understanding of my progressive condition and everything it could mean. Twenty-two years later, I'm grateful I held firm. Today, my marriage is rock-solid because it's built on true companionship, unwavering support, and deep mutual understanding—not monetary incentives or societal pressures. However, that is not the story for the majority of people with disabilities. In India, where marriage is often seen as a societal milestone, persons with disabilities (PwDs) face unique challenges in finding partners due to pervasive ableism and societal stigma. To address this, several state governments have introduced marriage incentive schemes aimed at encouraging the union of PwDs. I find this deeply concerning. Currently, 19 Indian states offer such incentives, and charitable organisations regularly conduct mass marriages providing one-time financial support. Although well-intentioned, these practices risk commodifying marriage, mirroring dowry systems, and fostering relationships that may falter once incentives run out. While these schemes may seem beneficial on the surface, a deeper examination reveals complexities that question their efficacy and ethical implications. The landscape of marriage incentive schemes Firstly, there is no conformity in the various marriage incentive schemes. For instance, Kerala provides a one-time assistance of Rs 30,000 to disabled women or daughters of disabled parents, while Haryana offers Rs 51,000 if both spouses are disabled. These schemes differ not only in monetary value but also in eligibility criteria, reflecting a lack of uniformity and clear objectives. Further, these incentives inadvertently mirror the dowry system by attaching monetary value to the marriage of PwDs. Critics argue that this commodification can perpetuate harmful stereotypes, suggesting that financial compensation is necessary to make a PwD 'marriageable.' Another strong criticism centres on the disability model these schemes are based on. Clearly, marriage incentive schemes fall within the charity model of disability, which views PwDs as dependents requiring aid, rather than as individuals with rights and autonomy. This perspective undermines the principles of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016, which emphasises equality and non-discrimination. Marriage in the absence of enabling infrastructure that promotes quality education, employment, independence of PwDs, is at best compounding the very challenges that they struggle with—especially when both partners are persons with disabilities. They will continue to face the same systemic barriers that hinder their social inclusion. Hence, without tackling these root causes, financial incentives do little to address the issues and offer only a superficial and temporary solution. Diverse perspectives within the community Even within the disability community, the opinions are diametrically opposite. Some individuals, particularly in rural areas, view the incentives as supportive measures that acknowledge their desire for companionship and family life, as highlighted in a recent article by a disability rights advocate ( However, urban disability activists often critique these schemes for perpetuating dependency and failing to promote genuine empowerment. In my view, while it is important to acknowledge the desire for companionship and family life, a marriage based on financial incentive runs the risk of denying both unless backed by individual understanding of what a union between/with PwDs entails. Marriages involving disability—particularly between disabled and non-disabled partners—require enduring empathy, patience, and commitment. Disabled women, in particular, often face heightened vulnerability in marriage, needing genuine, ongoing emotional and physical support from partners and families. This vulnerability is further amplified by patriarchal expectations that often place unrealistic burdens on disabled women while denying them autonomy and respect. The problem with mass marriages Mass marriages organised by charitable organisations raise additional concerns. These events may appear supportive on the surface, but they often bypass critical aspects such as informed consent, compatibility, and long-term agency. When conducted at scale with financial incentives, they risk reducing the institution of marriage to a symbolic gesture rather than a meaningful, informed choice. The optics of charity further dilute the focus on autonomy and dignity. Towards empowerment and autonomy True empowerment demands systemic change, better infrastructure, accessible education and employment, and comprehensive pre-marital counselling to ensure informed choices. Instead of adopting the charity model towards marriage of PwDs, the governments must focus on bringing about the much-needed 360-degree pivot in their approach towards PwDs. Firstly, invest in accessible infrastructure and services to enable independent living, rather than making charitable doles under various incentives. Secondly, promote education and employment that could create opportunities for PwDs, leading to financial independence and self-sufficiency. Thirdly, implement nationwide awareness campaigns to combat stigma and promote inclusivity. We need to challenge societal attitudes, not endorse them by showing PwDs as needy and a charity case, even in the marriage market. Fourthly, provide comprehensive support to marriageable PwDs through counselling, legal aid, and healthcare services that respect the autonomy and dignity of PwDs. Respect PwDs' autonomy & choice Whether marriages are made in heaven or not, for their survival and success on earth—especially given the rollercoaster of life that people with disabilities perforce have—they must be grounded in something far more tangible: companionship, mutual understanding, and a lifelong commitment that transcends financial transactions. While marriage incentive schemes for PwDs may be well-intentioned, they risk reinforcing problematic narratives and failing to address the deeper issues of inequality and exclusion. Empowerment should not come in the form of financial inducements for marriage but through systemic changes that uphold the rights, choices, and dignity of persons with disabilities. Marriage, like any personal decision, should be a matter of choice, free from coercion or financial persuasion. For PwDs too, marriage must remain a deeply personal, informed decision—never reduced to financial incentives or societal expectations. Based on secondary research Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
Time of India
05-06-2025
- Time of India
Arunachal govt launches probe into fake certs
Itanagar: The Arunachal Pradesh govt has ordered immediate action against special education teachers employed under the Integrated Scheme for School Education (ISSE) who are allegedly using fake or invalid certificates from the Rehabilitation Council of India (RCI), reports Joken Ete. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now In a circular issued by the state's education department, authorities expressed concern over what it called a 'grave breach of trust' and a 'violation of statutory norms', stressing that such misconduct jeopardises the rights of children with disabilities, especially those relying on Indian Sign Language. The RCI, functioning under the Union ministry of social justice and empowerment, is the only statutory body that regulates training and registration of rehabilitation professionals. As per the RCI Act, 1992, rendering services without a valid RCI registration is a punishable offence. The education department has directed the ISSE state project director to verify the authenticity of all RCI certificates submitted by special educators.
