Antara Ray

Academic
Sociologist

[barkha dutt @BDUTT]

“I did it for humanity”- Meet Riyazuddin, the hero of the Delhi fire who lost his entire merchandise and earnings, because he emptied out his mattress shop for people trapped in the burning hotel fire that claimed 21 lives, so they could jump away from the flames and have a safe landing. “I lost 2 lakh rupees worth of goods but am entirely at peace because I saved so many lives” - he told us. The financial knock is serious for him because his daughter’s wedding is just months away. Other hotels and establishments in the area refused to help but Riyazuddin and his son did not think twice.

When we spoke to him about a fundraiser he said he did not do this for money or help, he did it for humanity. But we still feel we should honour his efforts. If after listening to him, you would like to help him, his bank details are below 💜👏

Name-Riyazuddin
Bank- Bank Of Maharashtra
Account No-20043010248
IFSC Code- MAHB0000593

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@BDUTT Thank you for sharing his details...will surely contribute

[Preeti Choudhry @PreetiChoudhry]

My exit poll! As I leave #Bengal, it would be a disservice not to say this: I have come to deeply admire the way women inhabit space here. There is a quiet, almost subconscious elevation of women as independent beings . something that stands in stark contrast to the entrenched misogyny that still finds resonance across much of northern India. Perhaps it stems from a cultural understanding of shakti. A form of empowerment that manifests here in ways both subtle and profound, unlike anywhere else in the country, even in the south.
Any woman journalist who has covered political rallies across India will recognize the difference immediately. Other states, a crowd is not just a logistical challenge, it carries risk. the inevitability of wandering hands, the violation masked by chaos. Here, the crowds are no less dense, the air no less heavy with sweat and alcohol—but the hands, for the most part, do not grope. Men step aside to make way. When contact happens, as it inevitably does in chaos, there is visible embarrassment rather than entitlement. What you encounter is not chivalry, but something far rarer: equality. And equality feels far more meaningful. Was never a fan of chivalry in any case :) 
There is more. Women politicians across party lines campaign with a striking freedom, aggressive, sharp, unapologetically irreverent, often using what would elsewhere be labelled as ‘masculine’ rhetoric. In most states, such behaviour would invite judgment, even censure. Here, it is met with acceptance,  applause. What feels liberating to an outsider is, in Bengal, simply normal. What we frame as empowerment  here is a cultural undercurrent.
I have covered four elections in this state, and each time I have returned with the same sense of awe. Bengal, meanwhile, ambles on with a certain bemusement, as if unaware of what sets it apart. But it is a big deal. And perhaps the most remarkable part is that Bengal does not think so.
Governments will come and go. One can only hope that this constant endures, not just how Bengal sees its women, but how, in many ways, it doesn’t. ♥️♥️♥️

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@HumanityChad This is such a heartwarming video...i really miss those days

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@choga_don This happens in India where celebrities are worshipped like God! Disgusting this is....

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@DearAspirant They should be severely punished

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@gharkekalesh They should be booked under SC ST Act

[Ameer Shahul @ameershahul]

A lonely goodbye to Madhav Gadgil, one of the tallest environmentalists of our times.

Under the banyan trees of Navi Peth in Pune, Madhav Gadgil was taken for cremation last evening. The gathering was small, some forty, perhaps fifty people.

No ministers. No senior officials. No tricolour to drape the body. No guard of honour salutes. No ceremonial rifle volleys.

One expects a crowd, the usual press cameras and public mourning. Instead, there was a pause, a quiet uncertainty, as if this farewell were happening somewhere it wasn’t meant to.

State honours had been promised, but never quite arrived. Even the police escort lost its way. For nearly half an hour, Gadgil’s body lay waiting, wrapped in simple white, while the city carried on around it, indifferent.

For me, this was not the death of a distant public figure.

In the 1990s, when I was starting out as a science correspondent with the Press Trust of India in Bengaluru, Madhav Gadgil was already a towering presence at the Indian Institute of Science (IISc). At the IISc's Centre for Ecological Sciences, he stood out, not by volume or self-importance, but by intellectual rigour and moral clarity.

I walked into his office many a time in those years, notebooks open, deadlines close. He listened carefully, answered precisely, never spoke down. He believed knowledge carried responsibility, and that science without ethics was incomplete. Those conversations stayed with me, shaping how I understood both journalism and ecology.

This was also the man who later led the Western Ghats Ecology Expert Panel, producing a report that treated the mountains not as real estate or mineral stock, but as living systems. The Gadgil Committee Report spoke of ecological limits, decentralised governance, community rights, and long-term survival.

A Padma Bhushan awardee. A UN Champion of the Earth. A lifelong defender of forests, rivers, biodiversity, and uncomfortable truths. In death, he was treated as someone easily forgotten.

The trees were not.

The old banyans stood quietly, their leaves stirring in the afternoon air. Gadgil had given his life to them. Trees remember. Animals remember. They show up when people don’t.

Had this been a politician or an industrialist, roads in Pune would have been sealed, helicopters circling, television studios filled with tributes and theatrical grief. Power is never allowed to pass quietly.

But a man who tried to protect the land that sustains us all was sent off almost unnoticed.

The trees stood witness.

The rest of us moved on.

Goodbye, Madhav Gadgil.

Forgive us.

We did not know how to honour you.

(Photo Courtesy: R S Gopan)

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@baxirahul You won't believe that i am scared to walk few streets at night due to violent stray dogs. Being a woman in India, i am scared to go out at night not only for some rogue men but also due to most rogue stray dogs due to lack of safety n security

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@Nakro_Jojo Such shameful acts are continuously happening and there is no justice. So heartbreaking

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@MeruOnX It's called gundagardi.....he did it on purpose and the law and order are mere spectators

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@Pmkphotoworks Ffurthermore it's been a dominant discourse that automatic is for women who can't drive n manual is for men...i know men who don't want to buy automatic for being getting ridiculed

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@theskindoctor13 May she wins the case.

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@bodhan11 @MoupiaNandy 😂😂😂

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@IndiGo6E Yest to receive refund for my cancelled flight on 5th December from Patna to Kolkata. Had a to take a cab with 14k to reach Kolkata. Where's the refund?

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@IndiGo6E Where's my refund oc flight canceled on 5th December?

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@IndiGo6E Where's my refund of flight canceled on 5th December??? Your executives are of no help

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@IndiGo6E Where exactly is the refund? You customer care executives are telling me that they will call me back. Ia haven't received anything yet

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

@IndiGo6E I had to buy food while onboard. You didn't even provide us a meal even after 12hour delay when we were stranded at delhi airport.

[Antara Ray @Antararay2013]

It's not only the @indigo but the #government ghosted us too...@goi #Indigo