Chapter 118: National Security Guard - IV
April 1953, The early morning stillness in New Delhi was very different from the storm of activity taking place a thousand kilometers away in the desert.
In Pokhran, preparations were already underway, months of work beginning to take form.
Rohan had spent countless hours developing the framework for the National Security Guard (NSG), and now the real challenge loomed ahead: recruiting and training a force that could secure the nation's future.
It wasn't just about training soldiers; it was about preparing them for a world Rohan understood far more easily than anyone in the room, though none could ever know why.
From his office window, Rohan could see the city waking up. He turned back to his desk, where Neeraj sat with the final list of recruits spread out before him.
They had been at this for hours, but neither man showed any signs of slowing down.
"These are the best men we could find," Neeraj said, his voice holding a note of hesitation. "But they've never seen anything like the training you've planned."
Rohan nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. "They'll have to be ready." His tone was calm,
"The threats we're preparing for are unlike anything they've faced before."
Neeraj frowned and glanced up from the papers. "You keep saying that, Sir, What exactly are we preparing for? We are ready for insurgencies, this isn't t new. What's different now?"
Rohan leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly. "The lines are blurring, Neeraj. Between war and peace. Between soldiers and terrorists. Technology is evolving, ideology is evolving. The enemies we'll face aren't like the ones we know. They won't wear uniforms. They won't fight on battlefields. They'll strike in shadows, in cities, in places we think are safe. And we need to be ready for that."
Neeraj sat back, thinking about Rohan's words. There was something in the way Rohan spoke, as if he were pulling from a deeper well of knowledge.
Neeraj had always trusted his instincts, but there was a weight to Rohan's words today that made him uneasy.
He looked back down at the list of names, the best of India's military, police, and intelligence agencies.
These men were battle-hardened veterans, but even Neeraj wasn't sure if they were ready for what Rohan had in mind.
"I just hope they can handle it," Neeraj muttered, his fingers tapping the edge of the paper. "This training… it's going to push them to the limit."
"They don't have a choice," Rohan said quietly. "Because if they can't handle it here, they'll never survive out there."
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Colonel Arvind Singh stepped into the office.
"Prime Minister," Colonel Singh greeted, nodding at Rohan, then glancing at Neeraj. "The first group of recruits is arriving at Pokhran. The selected fifty as per the list are best of military, intelligence, and police backgrounds. All with experience in special operations."
Rohan stood and walked to the window, looking out over the city as the Colonel spoke.
The isolation of Pokhran, the harsh desert, the unforgiving terrain, it was all part of the plan.
These men weren't just going to be trained. They were going to be transformed.
"How confident are you in these men, Colonel?" Rohan asked, not turning around.
Singh hesitated. That wasn't like him. "They're the best we've got," he said finally. "But this training... it's different from anything we've done before. We've included psychological stress tests, live intelligence feeds. These men will be pushed to their breaking points. Some might not make it."
Rohan turned and looked at Singh, his expression unreadable. "Good. I need to know who will break."
Neeraj shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't speak. He had seen Rohan's standards rise over the past few months.
Neeraj understood that Rohan was preparing for something far bigger than anyone else realized, but how far was he willing to push these men to be ready for it? And was it really necessary?
"The world is changing, Colonel," Rohan said, stepping closer. "This isn't about dealing with today's threats. It's about the ones we can't even see yet, the ones just over the horizon. The NSG has to be more than an elite force. It has to be adaptable, smart, and relentless. They can't hesitate. They can't fail. Because out there, mistakes cost lives. We won't have the luxury of learning from them in the field."
Singh nodded, his jaw tight. "We'll push them. Harder than they've ever been pushed."
Rohan's expression softened, but his resolve didn't waver. "Push them beyond their limits, Colonel. Only the strongest can carry the weight of being an NSG Commando."
---
A week later, the desert wind howled as the first batch of recruits arrived in Pokhran.
Fifty men stepped out of the trucks, their faces hardened by years of service, but even they paused for a moment as they took in the barren, hostile landscape.
Each man knew this would be no ordinary training.
Colonel Singh stood before them, his voice sharp and commanding as he addressed the recruits. "You've been selected because you're the best. But understand this, being the best doesn't guarantee you'll make it through. This training will test you in ways you've never experienced. Some of you will break. Some of you will fail."
The men stood at attention, but many of them shifted slightly, glancing at one another. They had all seen combat, some had survived things that would break most men, but there was something in Singh's voice.
This was different. This wasn't just about surviving another mission.
Colonel Singh's voice carried over the wind again. "You'll be trained in close-quarters combat, urban warfare, explosives, and decision-making under crisis. But this isn't just about physical strength. You'll face mental stress like never before. Your ability to think under pressure will determine if you succeed. And your success will determine if others live or die."
The men exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between them.
They knew endurance.
They knew pain.
But it was the mental tests, the constant stress, that made a few of them nervous. A couple of hardened soldiers clenched their fists, jaws tight.
Others stared straight ahead, their expressions unreadable.
The training began that afternoon. Days blurred together as the recruits were pushed to their physical and mental limits.
They ran through the desert under the punishing sun, learned to navigate complex urban warfare scenarios, and disarmed explosives with shaking hands.
But it wasn't the physical toll that wore them down. It was the psychological pressure. Every decision had to be made in seconds. Lives, real or simulated, depended on it.
Some men faltered. They hesitated. And in this training, hesitation was failure.
One night, after an especially grueling exercise that saw three recruits pulled from the field, Colonel Singh gathered the men around a fire.
The desert was dark, the wind carrying away the day's heat, leaving a sharp chill in the air.
The recruits were exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally, but they sat silently as Singh spoke.
"This training isn't just about getting through the program," Singh said, his voice quiet but firm. "It's about preparing you for the worst situations you'll ever face. Terrorists, insurgents, foreign agents, they're evolving. They don't fight by the rules you know. And if you break here, if you hesitate, you'll break in the field. And when that happens, people die."
The men sat in silence, Some stared into the flames, lost in their thoughts. Others looked out at the endless expanse of desert, wondering how they would make it through the next day, let alone the entire training.
Back in New Delhi, Rohan received daily updates from Colonel Singh. The reports were detailed but Rohan didn't need the numbers or statistics.
He knew what was happening. Men were being broken down and rebuilt. The strongest among them were rising to the top, the ones who could bear the weight of what was coming.
The process was slow, brutal, but it was necessary.
Rohan sat back in his chair, staring out at the city. The world was changing. The threats they faced were still years away, but they were coming.
And when they arrived, the NSG would be ready. Rohan had no illusions about the cost of what he was asking for, but he knew the alternative being unprepared was far worse.
The foundation was being laid, one soldier at a time. Each decision, each challenge, was shaping them into something more than they had been before.
Something sharper, stronger, and, most importantly, adaptable to a world that wasn't bound by rules anymore.
In a few years, the world would change. Terrorists would evolve, weapons would advance, and technology would rewrite the battlefield.
But when that time came, India wouldn't be caught off guard. The NSG would be the tip of the spear, ready to meet any threat, known or unknown.
Rohan turned away from the window, his mind already on the future. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but they were ready to walk it.
The nation's security, its survival, was being built right now in the desert heat of Pokhran.
And soon, the world would know what it meant to face the National Security Guard.
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67.03%A New India / Chapter 119: The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project - I
Chapter 119: The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project - I
It was a late afternoon, and Rohan sat at his desk, surrounded by reports detailing the state of dairy production in Kerala.
The soft noise of wind rustling overhead did little to break the anxiety in the room, nor did it calm the knot tightening in his chest.
The numbers in front of him were bad. India, with its fertile land and hardworking farmers, was still falling behind in dairy production.
And Kerala, while showing promise, was nowhere near the global standards.
Rohan rubbed his temples. The answer, he knew, wasn't just in better management. It lay in the cattle themselves.
Indigenous breeds, while resilient, could not match the milk output of their European counterparts.
Crossbreeding was the solution specifically, bringing in high-yield European breeds and combining them with native breeds that could withstand the Indian climate.
The Sunandini breed in Kerala had shown early potential, but this was only the beginning.
His thought of Switzerland. The Swiss, world-renowned for their dairy expertise, had been quietly proposing a partnership for months.
The Swiss Brown breed, in particular, had already achieved success in crossbreeding projects globally.
But Rohan wasn't just thinking of importing foreign breeds. He was thinking bigger: a new kind of cattle, one that would change the face of Indian dairy forever.
The door creaked open, and Neeraj walked in, carrying the latest data from the agricultural department.
His footsteps were quick, but his expression was tight. He placed the thick file on the desk and glanced at Rohan.
"The numbers aren't where we need them,"he said, his voice low. "Kerala's showing some improvement, but it's not enough to meet our demand."
Rohan didn't look up. His fingers absently tapped the edge of the table.
"We need more than improvement, Neeraj. If we keep working with the breeds we have now, we'll never catch up." He leaned back, eyes closing for a brief moment.
"The Swiss proposal, there's our answer. Their breeds are more productive. But we can't just drop them into our climate. We have to adapt them. Make them ours."
Neeraj nodded, though there was hesitation in his voice. "We've already seen some success with the Sunandini breed, but you're talking about scaling up across the country. Kerala's just one state. Can the farmers handle it, especially in regions like Gujarat and Rajasthan?"
He didn't answer right away, lost in thought. Finally, he turned back to Neeraj.
"It's not just about the cattle. It's about giving farmers the tools they need. Artificial insemination, veterinary care, education... We need the Swiss for more than just their cows. We need their knowledge. Their expertise."
Neeraj frowned, flipping through the report again. "We'll have to get the farmers on board from the start. This can't be another government-mandated program. If they don't see the benefits, if they don't own it, it'll fail. Just like the others."
Before Rohan could respond, a sharp knock came at the door. Dr. Zalim one of India's foremost agricultural experts, entered with a stack of papers under his arm.
His usual calm demeanor was there, but there was a certain tension in his brow. He greeted them both, pulling up a chair.
"I've gone through the Swiss proposal," Dr. Zalim said, setting the papers down. "They're offering us a lot, technology, breeding programs, veterinary expertise. But we have to think carefully. They have their own interests in mind too."
Rohan gave him a slight nod. "I know. This isn't just about dairy for them. It's about showcasing their agricultural technology on a global stage. But that doesn't mean we can't benefit."
Dr. Zalim leaned forward. "True, but we need more than just imported cattle. We need infrastructure, training centers, veterinary services, and education for our farmers. The Swiss can't do all that for us. It has to come from here, from the ground up."
Rohan's lips curved into a small smile. "Exactly. We're not just looking for a quick fix. We're building a sustainable dairy economy. The Swiss can help us get there, but the future is in our hands."
Neeraj, added, "It worked in Kerala because we involved the farmers from the start. Over two thousand of them participated by the end. If we're going to expand this to places like Gujarat and Punjab, we'll need even more engagement. Farmers leading other farmers peer-to-peer influence."
Rohan turned to the large map of India on the wall. He traced his fingers across the states. "We'll start with Kerala, but I want pilot projects in Gujarat, Punjab, and Rajasthan. Each region has different needs. The Swiss can help with the science, but the implementation has to be led by us. This can't be top-down."
Dr. Zalim nodded but raised an eyebrow. "Sir, you know as well as I do that breeding programs take time. We're looking at years before we see any major results. How do we manage expectations? Farmers can't afford to wait for long-term outcomes. We need to communicate that clearly."
Rohan's face darkened as he turned from the map. "I know. That's the challenge. But this project isn't just about milk production. It's about creating stability, sustainability. If we do it right, in ten years, India won't just be self-sufficient, we'll be exporting milk."
Neeraj shot him a look. "Sir, You really think the farmers will buy into that? We're asking them to change centuries-old practices. And let's be honest, not everyone's on board with foreign partnerships. There's still a lot of resistance out there to modern techniques."
Rohan met Neeraj's gaze, his voice steady. "They will, if they see the results. We need to create success stories, farmers who make it work. Once they see what's possible, the resistance will break."
Dr. Zalim sat back, his brow furrowed. "We'll need to be careful with media exposure. If the press catches wind of this too early, we'll get backlash from every side conservatives, politicians, even some within the farming community."
Rohan nodded, pacing slowly as he spoke. "We keep it quiet for now. We test, we prove, and then we let the results speak for themselves. Once the success is visible, even the harshest critics will have to take notice."
Neeraj stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, then. I'll start drafting the formal proposal for the Swiss to sign. We need to lock them in before anyone else starts sniffing around. Dr. Zalim, you'll coordinate the pilot programs?"
Dr. Zalim gave a nod of agreement. "Yes, but I'll need to set up training centers in each region first. We can't just send cattle out there without proper support. The Swiss have offered trainers, and we'll need to integrate them with our local teams."
Rohan glanced at the window, where the light was fading into dusk. "This isn't just about milk," he said quietly.
"It's about giving farmers hope. A future. If we get this right, we'll change the agricultural landscape of India. Millions of lives will be transformed."
The room fell silent for a moment. Neeraj and Dr. Zalim exchanged glances, both feeling the truth of Rohan's words.
"We'll get it right," Neeraj said softly, his usual cynicism momentarily gone. "We have to."
Rohan gave a final nod, determination flickering in his eyes. "Good. Let's get to work."
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67.59%A New India / Chapter 120: The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project - II
Chapter 120: The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project - II
May 1953, Both Indian and Swiss delegations gathered for the official signing of the Indo-Swiss Dairy Project.
Rohan sat at the head of the table, This wasn't just another trade deal or diplomatic gesture this agreement had the potential to change the lives of millions of Indian farmers.
Across from him, Herr Franz Meier, the Swiss ambassador, sat calmly, waiting for the moment when both sides would put pen to paper.
Beside him was Dr. Erich Schneider, a Swiss agricultural expert who had been instrumental in crafting the technical aspects of the deal.
Their faces, while composed, reflected the seriousness of what was about to happen.
Neeraj, seated next to Rohan, shifted through the documents one last time. Dr. Zalim was also present.
Rohan looked around the room, taking in the hushed conversations and the occasional clearing of throats.
Finally, he spoke, his voice steady but full of meaning.
"Today, we are not just signing a piece of paper. This agreement marks the beginning of a new chapter for India's dairy industry, a chapter where our farmers will be empowered, where tradition meets modern science, and where collaboration across borders will help us create a sustainable future."
Herr Meier nodded, his voice warm. "Prime Minister, it's an honor for Switzerland to be part of this journey. Our goal is to share our knowledge, but also to learn from India's rich agricultural heritage. We've seen great potential in the work done with the Sunandini breed in Kerala. Now, together, we will take those lessons and expand them to the rest of your country."
Rohan leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the table. "Yes, the Sunandini breed has shown us what's possible. By crossbreeding our resilient native cattle with the Swiss Brown, we've seen increased milk production while maintaining the cattle's ability to thrive in our challenging climate. But what's most important about this deal is that it goes beyond just cattle. We're talking about education, infrastructure, and long-term sustainability."
Neeraj, still holding the agreement, added, "The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project isn't just about importing cattle. That's only one part of the solution. We're bringing Swiss expertise to help us build artificial insemination centers, improve veterinary care, and train our farmers in modern breeding techniques. This is how we ensure the success of this program."
Dr. Zalim, who had been closely involved in every step of the process, spoke up. "We've already seen what this can do in Kerala. The Sunandini breed has been adapted to local conditions, and it's proven to be a strong, high-yielding cow. Now, we will be expanding this to other states, Gujarat, Punjab, and Rajasthan. These areas have different climates and needs, and that's where the Swiss expertise comes in. They're not just giving us cattle they're helping us create a system that will last."
Dr. Schneider, the Swiss agricultural expert, nodded in agreement. "Our focus has always been on ensuring that the breeds we introduce are adaptable. The Swiss Brown breed is known for its milk yield, but it's not suited to every climate. Our goal is to develop a breed here in India that combines the best of both worlds high milk production and resilience to local conditions."
Rohan felt the excitement in the room grow as the conversation continued. This wasn't just about importing foreign solutions.
It was about adapting them to Indian conditions, making them work for Indian farmers. He leaned back in his chair, knowing the time had come to make it official.
"Herr Meier, if we're all in agreement, I think we should proceed with the signing," Rohan said, his eyes meeting those of the Swiss ambassador.
Herr Meier smiled and picked up his pen. "Yes, Prime Minister, let's make history."
As the documents were passed around the table, a hush fell over the room. Rohan carefully reviewed the final points one last time.
The deal, as it stood, would see the introduction of Swiss Brown cattle into India, but it also included key provisions for training, education, and long-term infrastructure development.
This wasn't just a trade agreement; it was a blueprint for the future of India's dairy industry.
Rohan took a deep breath, picked up his pen, and signed his name at the bottom of the page.
The weight of the moment hit him fully as he handed the document to Herr Meier, who signed it with the same deliberate care.
The room, which had been so quiet moments before, suddenly burst into applause.
Officials from both sides stood up, exchanging handshakes and nods of approval. The deal was done. It was official.
Neeraj, who had been watching everything closely, leaned over to Rohan. "We did it. It's signed. But the real work starts now."
Rohan smiled faintly, his mind already racing ahead. "Yes, this was just the first step. Now we have to make sure it works in the field. The farmers need to trust us, and we need to show them the benefits of this project."
Dr. Zalim who had been standing nearby, joined the conversation. "The pilot projects in Gujarat, Punjab, and Rajasthan will be critical. We've learned a lot from Kerala, but each region will present its own challenges. We need to make sure the infrastructure is in place before we start expanding too quickly."
Rohan nodded. "Exactly. We can't rush this. Farmers need to see results, but they also need to understand that this is a long-term investment. The new breeds won't produce immediate results, but over time, the benefits will be undeniable."
Herr Meier, overhearing the conversation, walked over and joined the group. "In Switzerland, we've seen similar projects take time to show results. But when they do, the impact is long-lasting. The key is to remain patient and committed."
Rohan appreciated the ambassador's words. This project wasn't about quick fixes or flashy results.
It was about laying a foundation that could grow over time, about building a dairy industry that would not only meet India's needs but exceed them.
Rohan said, "This project isn't just about milk production. It's about transforming the way we think about agriculture in India. We're creating something that will last, something that will empower our farmers to be self-sufficient and successful for generations to come."
Herr Meier nodded thoughtfully. "We are committed to that vision as well. Switzerland will stand by India's side as this project unfolds. The success of the Indo-Swiss Dairy Project will be a success for both of our nations."
The meeting gradually began to wind down, the officials on both sides exchanging handshakes and congratulations once again.
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68.15%A New India / Chapter 121: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - I
Chapter 121: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - I
The monsoon had hit Delhi hard this year, with torrential rain hammering the city for days.
The sky outside Rohan's office was heavy and gray, but inside the Prime Minister's residence, there was a sense of urgency not caused by the weather.
With the Indo - Swiss Dairy project signed and working towards achieving new goals and target in the dairy industries, Rohan found himself in another dilemma which he didn't thought would come 10 years before it should have.
The issue of the Indian Tamils in Sri Lanka.
This issue had surfaced with an intensity that could no longer be ignored.
Rohan sat at his desk, staring at the rain streaming down the windows. The reports in front of him laid out the situation in stark detail.
Hundreds of thousands of Indian Tamils, brought to Ceylon decades ago by the British to work on tea and rubber plantations, were now stateless.
With independence, Ceylon had started to reconsider their place in the country, and tensions were rising.
The Sri Lankan government, led by Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake, had been under increasing pressure from the Sinhalese majority to resolve the issue.
The Indian Tamils had become politically inconvenient, too numerous to ignore, yet not considered part of the country's fabric.
The calls for their repatriation to India were growing louder, and Rohan knew that soon, his government would need to respond.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. KP Singh, the External Affairs Minister, entered the room, carrying a file that looked far too thick for comfort.
"Prime Minister," KP greeted as he took a seat across from Rohan, "we've received the latest communication from Ceylon. It seems the situation is escalating faster than we anticipated."
Rohan exhaled, feeling the weight of the words. "What are they asking for, KP?"
KP Singh adjusted his glasses and opened the file. "Prime Minister Senanayake's government is facing growing unrest from the Sinhalese nationalists. They're pushing for a quick resolution to the Tamil issue. Ceylon is suggesting the repatriation of most of the Indian Tamil population, over 600,000 people back to India. They want to grant citizenship to a small portion, but it's clear they're looking to offload the rest of the problem onto us."
Rohan leaned back in his chair, frowning deeply. "That's not a solution, KP. That's just shifting the burden. These are people who have lived there for generations, people who've worked and built their lives in Ceylon. You can't just uproot them and expect them to fit into a country many of them have never seen."
KP Singh nodded, his face serious. "I agree. Repatriating over half a million people is not only impractical but dangerous. We don't have the infrastructure to absorb them, and if we don't handle it correctly, we could end up with severe unrest here in India."
Rohan tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking aloud. "We need to approach this carefully. Senanayake is in a difficult position. The Sinhalese majority is pushing hard, but he knows that Ceylon can't afford the economic fallout of losing so many laborers. The Indian Tamils have been the backbone of their plantation economy. Without them, their agriculture sector could collapse."
KP Singh raised an eyebrow. "So, what are you suggesting, Prime Minister? We can't let them wash their hands of the problem entirely, but we also can't afford to let this escalate into a full-blown crisis."
Rohan stood up, walking over to the window, watching the rain pour down in thick sheets. "We need a compromise. Something that acknowledges the legitimate concerns of Ceylon but doesn't abandon the Indian Tamils. We'll have to take back a portion of the population, yes, but not without a plan. And the ones who stay Ceylon must grant them full citizenship."
KP Singh sat quietly for a moment, thinking through Rohan's words. "A partial repatriation?"
Rohan turned around, nodding. "Exactly. We take responsibility for those who genuinely want to return to India, but Ceylon needs to commit to integrating the rest. They can't keep them stateless forever. We'll need to work out the numbers, of course, but this can't just be about shifting the burden back and forth."
KP Singh scribbled down notes. "And the ones who come back? How do we handle their resettlement?"
Rohan moved back to his desk, sitting down again with a sigh. "That's the tricky part. We've seen what happens when people are displaced without a plan. It leads to poverty, unrest, and long-term social instability. We need to integrate them into our national development efforts."
KP Singh looked thoughtful, nodding. "The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project was a model for this kind of approach. We trained farmers, gave them land, built infrastructure. We could apply the same principles to the Tamil returnees."
Rohan's face lit up slightly. "Exactly. We have ongoing agricultural projects in Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Gujarat, and Punjab. These are regions where we've already established infrastructure. If we bring the returnees into these programs, offer them training and land, we can avoid the mistakes of the past."
KP Singh jotted down a few more notes. "We'll need the cooperation of the state governments, but I believe Tamil Nadu and Kerala will be willing to help. Many of the returnees will have ties to those regions."
Rohan nodded. "Yes, but we can't overload one state. This has to be a national effort. We'll need to distribute the responsibility across several states to make sure no one region is overwhelmed."
KP Singh raised a critical point. "Prime Minister, we'll also need to manage the public perception. People are going to see this as an influx of refugees. If we don't control the narrative, it could lead to backlash."
Rohan's face grew serious again. "You're right. We need to frame this as a national development effort, not a refugee crisis. These people are skilled laborers, and if we integrate them properly, they can contribute to our agricultural and industrial sectors. This isn't charity this is an investment in our future."
KP Singh sat back, his expression thoughtful. "I think we're on the right track. But what about the negotiations with Senanayake? How do we approach this?"
Rohan leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "We need to show him that this is the best option for both countries. If Ceylon pushes too hard for repatriation, they'll destabilize their own economy. But if they work with us, we can find a solution that benefits everyone."
KP Singh nodded in agreement. "I'll begin drafting a proposal based on partial repatriation. We'll need to meet with Senanayake soon to discuss the details, but I believe we can find a compromise."
Rohan sat back, his mind already moving ahead to the negotiations that would follow. "We'll call it the Rohan–Senanayake Pact. This has to be more than just an agreement on paper. We need a clear plan for the future of these people, both those who stay and those who return. No matter what happens we must keep our stance strong and clear to everyone involved in this that India is willing to help Ceylon but if the Tamil people are persecuted we won't be Silent"
KP Singh replied "I will forward this to the Ceylon but I am not sure if we can get ourselves involve with this or if we should involve ourselves with their domestic politics"
"KP the question is not whether you want to or not, the moment these people start getting persecuted which i am sure they will, the people in India especially Tamilian who have close connection to them won't stay silent, so instead of being forced to take action, it is better we prepare for the worst before only"
Rohan took pause and continued
"Let's just hope it works. The stakes are too high here and any wrong step by us can push us to a side where we don't want to go KP. If we don't handle this correctly, it could destabilize both countries. Right now I just want to focus on development, for the last few years I had to focus on problems instead of development, all I ask is few years of peace"
KP Singh stood up, gathering the papers in front of him. "I'll start working on the details. We'll need to meet with the cabinet and brief them on the situation. And we'll need to open discussions with the state governments about the resettlement plans."
Rohan nodded. "Let's move quickly. We don't have much time. The longer this drags on, the harder it will be to control the outcome."
As KP Singh left the office, Rohan sat back in his chair, staring at the reports in front of him. The Tamil issue had been continuing for years, but now, the pressure was mounting.
If they didn't act soon, it could explode into a full-blown crisis.
But Rohan believed there was a way to turn this challenge into an opportunity.
The rain continued to pour outside, but inside, Rohan's mind was already focused on the future.
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68.71%A New India / Chapter 122: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - II
Chapter 122: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - II
August 1953, New Delhi was bathed in the warm sunlight of a late summer afternoon.
It wasn't an ordinary day. The Ceylonese Prime Minister, Dudley Senanayake, and his Foreign Minister, Sir John Kotelawala, were arriving in India for high-level talks that could shape the future of thousands of people particularly the stateless Indian Tamils living in Ceylon (Sri Lanka).
As the motorcade entered the grand gates of Rashtrapati Bhavan.
Officials, journalists, and diplomats gathered around the imposing residence, awaiting the historic talks.
The Indian and Ceylonese flags flew side by side at the entrance of the residence, a symbol of the cordial but increasingly strained relations between the two neighboring nations.
Inside, the Indian Prime Minister, Rohan, was preparing for the delicate negotiations that lay aheah.
The Tamil issue had long been a thorn in the side of both countries.
The Ceylonese government, led by Senanayake, was struggling to balance internal pressures from the Sinhalese majority while managing the reality that the Indian Tamils had contributed significantly to the country's economy for decades.
Meanwhile, Rohan was thinking of the question of how India could accommodate a potential influx of over half a million people.
Rohan stood by the window of his office, watching as the motorcade approached. "They're here," he said softly, turning to KP Singh, External Affairs Minister.
KP, always calm and calculated, looked up from the notes he had been reviewing.
"It's going to be a difficult discussion, Sir, Ceylon's in a tight spot, but so are we. This issue isn't going away anytime soon."
Rohan nodded, his thoughts racing. "I know. But we can't let this spiral out of control. If we don't find a way to cooperate, both our countries could be facing a much bigger problem social unrest, economic destabilization, and a humanitarian crisis."
KP glanced at the clock. "The formal welcome is scheduled in twenty minutes. We'll have the traditional ceremony, and then we can start preparing for the real talks. I've briefed the delegation on Ceylon's latest stance, but I don't expect this to be easy. They're going to push for a solution that works for them, and we'll need to make sure India's interests are protected."
As KP finished speaking, a knock came at the door. Neeraj, stepped in with a quick update
"The Ceylonese delegation has just arrived at the gate. The reception is ready, and the press is lined up."
Rohan exhaled, readying himself for the diplomatic battle that was always part of such high-level meetings.
"Let's go meet them."
The trio made their way out of the office and down the grand corridors of Rashtrapati Bhavan.
Outside, a line of soldiers from the Indian Army stood at attention, ready to present a guard of honor.
The Ceylonese motorcade pulled to a stop, and as the doors opened, Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake stepped out, followed by Sir John Kotelawala and other key members of the Ceylonese delegation.
A series of camera shutters clicked rapidly as the dignitaries greeted each other, the press capturing the historic moment.
Rohan extended his hand with a warm smile, despite the tension that lay just beneath the surface.
"Prime Minister Senanayake, welcome to India. It's a pleasure to have you here."
Senanayake, a tall man with a composed demeanor, shook Rohan's hand firmly.
"Thank you, Prime Minister. It's an honor to be here. I'm looking forward to our discussions."
Behind him, Sir John Kotelawala, ever more animated than his colleague, offered a nod and a smile as he shook hands with KP Singh and Neeraj.
"We're expecting fruitful talks, Prime Minister. We have much to discuss."
Rohan gestured toward the waiting line of soldiers. "Shall we?"
The two leaders stood side by side as the national anthems of both India and Ceylon played, followed by a formal inspection of the troops.
The guard of honor, a hallmark of diplomatic relations, was steeped in tradition, but for Rohan, it was merely the beginning of a much more complex dance.
Once the formalities concluded, the delegations moved inside the grand halls of Rashtrapati Bhavan, where the atmosphere shifted from ceremonial to pragmatic.
Inside the conference room, aides hurried to ensure that everything was ready the refreshments laid out, the notes neatly placed.
As they entered the room, Rohan and Senanayake took their seats at the head of the table, flanked by their key ministers and advisors.
On the Indian side, KP Singh and Neeraj sat closest to the Prime Minister, while Sir John Kotelawala and Ceylonese diplomats mirrored the arrangement.
The room quieted as both sides prepared to dive into the heart of the matter.
Rohan, sensing the gravity of the situation, opened the conversation.
"Prime Minister Senanayake, we're gathered here today to address an issue that's not only deeply political but also profoundly human. The Indian Tamil population in Ceylon has been in limbo for far too long. These are people who have contributed to the development of Ceylon's economy, yet they remain stateless, without a clear future."
Senanayake nodded gravely. "Prime Minister, you are right. The Indian Tamil population has been a vital part of Ceylon's plantation economy, and we recognize their contributions. But we also face growing unrest from the Sinhalese majority, who feel that the Indian Tamils' presence threatens their political and cultural dominance. We cannot ignore these concerns."
KP Singh leaned forward, his voice measured but firm. "Prime Minister, we understand the internal pressures you're facing, but let's not lose sight of the fact that these people have been in Ceylon for generations. They were brought there under British rule, and now they've built their lives in your country. It's not as simple as repatriating them to India."
Sir John Kotelawala, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a hint of frustration. "Minister Singh, with all due respect, we inherited this problem from the British. The Indian Tamil population was never fully integrated into our society, and now the Sinhalese are demanding a resolution. Ceylon cannot be expected to grant citizenship to everyone."
Rohan nodded thoughtfully, his gaze focused on Senanayake. "Prime Minister, what we're proposing is a phased approach. We agree that repatriation may be necessary for a portion of the population, but it cannot be the only solution. Ceylon must commit to granting full citizenship to those who have fully integrated into your society, those who were born there, who have ties to the land."
Senanayake frowned slightly, considering Rohan's words. "We are willing to grant citizenship to a portion of the Indian Tamil population perhaps 200,000 to 300,000 but we cannot absorb the entire community. The Sinhalese nationalists would see it as a betrayal, and it could destabilize the country."
Rohan exchanged a glance with KP Singh before speaking again. "We understand the internal dynamics of your government, Prime Minister, but if you push too hard for repatriation, you will create an entirely new crisis. India cannot absorb over 500,000 people without proper planning. We need time, resources, and coordination with our states. The returnees will need jobs, land, and support."
Kotelawala looked unconvinced. "And how do you propose handling the logistics of this, Prime Minister? Repatriating over half a million people is no small task, and integrating them back into Indian society will be even harder."
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69.27%A New India / Chapter 123: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - III
Chapter 123: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - III
KP Singh was ready with his response. "We have a plan. India has been modernizing its agricultural and industrial sectors. There are ongoing development projects in Tamil Nadu, Gujarat, and Punjab that can provide opportunities for the returnees. With proper training and support, they can become a productive part of our economy."
Senanayake leaned back in his chair, his expression one of cautious optimism. "A phased approach may work, but we will need clear commitments from India. This can't be an open-ended process. We need a timeline, and we need guarantees that those who are repatriated will be properly resettled."
Rohan nodded. "We're prepared to discuss those details. We'll need to coordinate with our state governments, but I'm confident we can find a solution that works for both our countries."
The room fell silent for a moment as both sides processed the tentative agreement.
The mood had shifted from confrontation to cooperation, but there were still many hurdles to overcome.
Rohan broke the silence, his voice steady. "Prime Minister Senanayake, we're not just here to negotiate the repatriation of people. We're here to ensure that the future of these Indian Tamils whether they stay in Ceylon or return to India is secure. We have a responsibility to them, and I believe we can find a solution that respects their dignity."
Senanayake met Rohan's eyes, his expression softening.
He seemed to sense the sincerity in Rohan's words, recognizing that both men were stuck with a choice that could affect generations
He nodded slowly, choosing his next words with care.
"Prime Minister Rohan," Senanayake began, his voice calm but resolute, "I appreciate the humanity with which you're approaching this issue. I also believe that both of our nations have a moral responsibility to these people. But, as you've said, the reality is complex. We must move carefully. The Sinhalese nationalist movement is growing stronger, and they see the Indian Tamil population as a threat to their political future. If we grant too many of them citizenship, we could face internal unrest, the kind that could destabilize the entire region."
Rohan understood this well. He, too, faced pressure back home from both those who viewed the Indian Tamils as part of India's larger family and those who feared the strain such an influx of people would put on India's resources and infrastructure.
The stakes were high on both sides.
KP Singh, sensing the slight shift in tone, leaned forward and spoke. "Prime Minister Senanayake, India has no desire to destabilize Ceylon or force a situation that would lead to unrest. But, as Sir mentioned, a phased and structured approach is key. The Indian Tamils who remain in Ceylon must be given full rights and recognized as part of your nation. For those who will be repatriated, we are prepared to support them, but this will require cooperation between our governments."
Sir John Kotelawala, glanced at Senanayake before addressing Rohan and KP Singh. "We're open to this phased approach, but we'll need clear guarantees. The repatriation process cannot drag on indefinitely. There must be a timeline. Ceylon cannot commit to keeping the Indian Tamils in limbo, waiting year after year for a resolution that never comes. Our citizens will expect results, and quickly."
Rohan nodded thoughtfully. "I understand your concerns, Foreign Minister Kotelawala. We can't afford to let this issue linger any longer than necessary. But the reality is that repatriating and resettling such a large population takes time. We need to do this carefully, and we'll need cooperation from state governments across India. If we rush this, we risk creating even bigger problems displacement, poverty, and unrest in India as well. We're prepared to move forward, but we'll need Ceylon's commitment to ensuring that the Indian Tamils who stay behind are given full citizenship."
Senanayake listened carefully, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as he thought through the implications. "Ceylon is prepared to grant citizenship to those Indian Tamils who are deeply integrated into our society. But,"
He said, leaning forward slightly.
"This process cannot undermine the political balance in Ceylon. The Sinhalese majority is fearful of losing their position of power. If we push too far, too fast, it could lead to protests, even violence. We must be careful."
Rohan understood, He had seen firsthand how fragile peace could be when groups felt marginalized or threatened.
The Sri Lankan leader's concerns were valid, but so were India's.
"You're right, Prime Minister," Rohan said carefully.
"Both of us are managing internal pressures. But this is a moment where we must find balance between pragmatism and humanity. These are people we're talking about, families who've lived their entire lives in Ceylon. Many of them see it as home. Those who stay must feel like they are part of your nation not as outsiders, not as temporary residents, but as citizens with equal rights."
Senanayake nodded, clearly weighing Rohan's words. "Agreed. We will begin working on a plan to grant citizenship to around 300,000 to 400,000 Indian Tamils. But for the rest, we will need a firm timeline from India regarding the repatriation process. If Ceylon is to take this step, we need assurances that India will take responsibility for those who will return."
Rohan added, "The Indo-Swiss Dairy Project we implemented recently has shown us the value of proper planning and integration. We gave farmers the tools, the training, and the resources to succeed, and we can apply those same principles here. The Indian Tamils who return will be integrated into our agricultural and industrial sectors. They'll be given jobs, education, and support to ensure they're not left stranded. But we'll need Ceylon's cooperation in making sure this process is humane and organized."
Senanayake looked to Kotelawala, then back to Rohan and KP Singh. "I believe we can move forward on this basis, but the details will need to be worked out carefully. We'll need to establish a committee on both sides to oversee the implementation of this agreement one that can ensure the timeline is met, that the returnees are resettled properly, and that those who remain in Ceylon are integrated smoothly."
Sir John Kotelawala spoke up again, his tone a bit more conciliatory. "I think we're making progress, Prime Minister Rohan. There are still details to hammer out, but this phased approach seems like the most viable option. We'll need to brief our respective cabinets, of course, and there will be political challenges on both sides. But if we can present this as a fair, balanced agreement, I believe we can avoid the worst of the backlash."
Rohan nodded "That's our goal to avoid creating new problems while solving the current one. This is about ensuring a future for these people, whether they remain in Ceylon or return to India."
Senanayake leaned back, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "We'll need to discuss the specific timeline for repatriation, and I'll need to consult with my cabinet on the citizenship plan. But I think we have the beginnings of a workable agreement."
Rohan smiled faintly, the weight of the negotiations still heavy but beginning to lift. "Thank you, Prime Minister Senanayake. I believe we're on the verge of something that could set a positive precedent for both our countries. This is about more than just solving a political issue it's about doing what's right for the people who have been caught in the middle for too long."
Senanayake stood up, signaling the end of the formal discussion for the day. "Let's reconvene tomorrow to continue working through the details. But for now, I think we can both say we've made significant progress."
Rohan stood as well, shaking Senanayake's hand firmly. "I agree, Prime Minister. We've taken an important first step. Now let's make sure we follow through."
As the delegations filed out of the room, Rohan turned to KP Singh, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "We're not done yet, but I think we're getting there."
KP spoke with caution "Prime Minister we haven't considered a situation where those Tamilian would not want to leave their homeland"
Rohan stood silently for a while and spoke
"That's a situation I have already thought of KP and even though we are here discussing all this, deep down I know this is the Only thing that will happen and when this happens, I don't know how to deal with it"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Clautic
Who would want to leave their homeland?
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69.83%A New India / Chapter 124: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - IV
Chapter 124: Rohan–Senanayake Pact - IV
The grand hall of Rashtrapati Bhavan was filled with an sense of anticipation.
Indian and Ceylonese flags fluttered gently behind the long table at the front, where Prime Ministers Rohan and Dudley Senanayake sat, ready to make history.
On the table before them lay the Rohan–Senanayake Pact, the agreement that months of negotiations had produced.
It was a moment that would change the future of thousands of Indian Tamils who had lived in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) for generations, and both leaders knew the weight of what they were about to sign.
Rohan reached for the pen in front of him, his fingers brushing against the cool metal.
He paused for a brief moment, locking eyes with Prime Minister Senanayake, who gave a quiet nod.
This was it, the end result of endless discussions, compromises.
As cameras flashed and the gathered diplomats and officials looked on in silence, Rohan leaned forward and signed his name.
The soft scratch of his pen on paper seemed to echo in the room. The Rohan–Senanayake Pact was now officially a reality.
Senanayake followed suit, his signature bold and deliberate. The agreement that had been so difficult to reach, an accord that would repatriate over 500,000 Indian Tamils while granting citizenship to around 300,000 who would remain in Ceylon was now set in motion.
Polite applause filled the hall, reverberating off the high ceilings. The cameras continued to flash, capturing the moment for history.
Rohan stood, extending his hand toward Senanayake.
The two men shook hands firmly, a gesture that signified more than just a political agreement.
This was about people, the lives of families, workers, and communities whose futures were now tied to the success of this pact.
As the applause died down, the officials and diplomats in the room began to stir, preparing for the reception that would follow.
But Rohan remained still, still doubtful while being full of hope for the work to reach this point, but he knew the real challenge lay ahead.
Turning to Senanayake, who was gathering his papers,
Rohan asked quietly, "We've signed the pact, yes. But will the people, those who've lived in Ceylon for generations, agree with this? Are they ready for what we've just decided for them?"
Senanayake looked up, his expression thoughtful. "That's the real question, isn't it?"
They stood in the now-quiet room as the rest of the delegations filed out toward the reception.
KP Singh and Sir John Kotelawala stayed back, sensing that Rohan and Senanayake were about to have a private conversation about what was truly at stake.
"The truth is," Senanayake began, walking slowly around the table, "no one knows how the people will react. The Indian Tamils have been in Ceylon for generations. For many of them, it's the only home they've ever known. But now, we're asking over half a million of them to leave that behind and return to a country they may not feel connected to. It's not just a political decision, it's personal for them."
Rohan nodded, understanding. "And then there are those who will stay behind. The Sinhalese nationalists won't make it easy for them to integrate, even with citizenship. They'll still be seen as outsiders by many."
KP Singh, standing nearby, joined the conversation. "Prime Minister, you're right. We've negotiated the terms, but now we have to deal with the human side of this. Repatriating over 500,000 people is going to be difficult logistically, yes, but emotionally too. Many of these people were born in Ceylon, and though they might be Indian by ancestry, they may not feel Indian at heart."
Senanayake sighed. "Ceylon is not the country it was when these people first arrived. The political climate has changed, and the Sinhalese population sees them as a threat to their cultural and political dominance. Even with the citizenship we're granting to those who stay, it will take years, decades, even, before they're truly seen as Ceylonese."
Rohan took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "We need to show them a path forward. Both those returning to India and those staying in Ceylon need to know that this is not just about politics, it's about building their futures. That's the real test ahead of us."
There was a brief moment of silence between the three men.
Rohan knew the success of this agreement depended on more than signatures.
It relied on people accepting the terms and moving forward with their lives, something far more complicated than any clause in the pact could reflect.
Senanayake gave a weary nod. "It won't be easy, but with the right approach, we can get through this. The Indian Tamils who stay will need assurances, not just on paper, but in action."
Before any more could be said, Neeraj entered the room, clearing his throat softly. "Prime Minister, the press conference is about to begin."
Rohan turned to Senanayake and offered a small smile. "Shall we?"
Dozens of journalists from both India and Ceylon, as well as international media, gathered in front of the podiums where Rohan and Senanayake would speak.
The anticipation in the air was palpable, with cameras poised and notebooks ready.
Rohan and Senanayake approached the podiums side by side, with KP Singh and Sir John Kotelawala standing behind them.
As they stepped forward to address the gathered media, the cameras flashed once again.
Rohan was the first to speak, his voice steady and calm despite the weight of the moment.
"Today marks an important moment in the relationship between India and Ceylon. The Rohan–Senanayake Pact is not just an agreement between two governments, it is an agreement for the people. This pact will provide a clear path for the Indian Tamil community, offering them a future that is secure and dignified. We understand the challenges ahead, but this pact is the first step toward resolving an issue that has affected thousands of families for generations."
He paused, letting his words settle, before continuing. "India is committed to ensuring that the repatriation process is humane, well-planned, and supportive of the people involved. For those who return to India, they will be welcomed and given the tools to rebuild their lives. And for those who remain in Ceylon, we trust that the Ceylonese government will ensure they are integrated as full citizens, with all the rights and protections that come with it."
Rohan stepped back as the journalists jotted down notes and murmured among themselves.
Senanayake took the podium next, his tone full of hope.
"Today's agreement represents months of hard work, but it also represents years of history. The Indian Tamil population has contributed greatly to Ceylon, and now we are offering them a future, whether that future lies in India or here in Ceylon. For those who remain, we will ensure they are fully integrated into our society, but it will take time. We ask for patience as we take the necessary steps to ensure a smooth transition."
Senanayake's gaze swept over the assembled reporters, his eyes serious.
"This agreement will not solve every problem overnight. There will be difficulties, but it is a step toward a more stable and just resolution. The Sinhalese people, too, must understand that the Indian Tamil community is a part of Ceylon, and they will continue to be. For those who leave, we bid them farewell with respect and gratitude for their contributions."
As Senanayake finished, a flurry of questions erupted from the gathered journalists.
Rohan gestured for quiet, signaling that the press would have their chance to ask questions shortly.
But before taking questions, Rohan spoke once more.
"We are aware that the road ahead will not be easy," he said. "There will be resistance, and there will be challenges, but I believe that together, India and Ceylon have laid the groundwork for a peaceful and fair resolution to this issue. Our people, those affected by this pact deserve no less."
With that, the floor was opened for questions. Journalists fired questions about the specifics of the pact, the logistics of the repatriation process, and the long-term impact on both countries.
Rohan and Senanayake answered patiently, explaining the complication of the agreement and reaffirming their commitment to seeing it through.
As the press conference ended, The Sri Lankan delegation rushed back to their country because a new political battle will be fought there due to this pact.
After everything which made him full of exhaustion, Rohan sat in his office.
The pact had been signed, the press conference had gone smoothly, and the first steps had been taken.
But Rohan knew that the hardest work was yet to come. The true test would be in how both countries implemented the pact
How they managed the logistics, the emotions, and the lives of the people affected. The signatures on the paper were just the beginning.
While others may not understand but how can he who is from 2024 not know the future of this issue and the worst part is even he with knowledge of so many things doesn't have any solution for this.
His only hope right now is this pact which came 10 years before the original history give more time for him to prepare.
India today is a Nucelar Power, A permanent UNSC Member which is why if India repeats the history with Sri Lanka, the consequences will be more severe.
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70.39%A New India / Chapter 125: Divided Lands
Chapter 125: Divided Lands
The sun dipped behind the hills of Ceylon, casting long shadows over the tea plantations and the villages that lived in the landscape.
But the beauty of the evening did little to soothe the rising tension that if not checked carefully upon will soon swallow the whole country.
The news of the Rohan–Senanayake Pact had spread fast and wide and while some had hoped it would bring clarity, it had only deepened the divide.
People expectation both Sinhalese and Tamilians there were not met. For once both of them agreed that this pact was not right though for different reasons.
For the Indian Tamils who had worked these lands for generations, the pact felt like a betrayal.
But for the Sinhalese nationalists, it wasn't enough. They needed a pact which removed even the last traces of Tamilian out of this country.
To them, the promise of citizenship for even 300,000 Indian Tamils felt like a threat to their culture, their politics, their very way of life.
In the town of Kandy, a small but vocal group of Sinhalese protesters had gathered in the town square.
They held banners that read "No More Indian Tamils!" and "Ceylon is for the Sinhalese!"
Their voices echoed through the streets, anger boiling over as they shouted slogans that filled the evening air.
Mahinda, a local shopkeeper who had lived in Kandy all his life, stood at the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest.
He was a quiet man by nature, but today he was here to make his voice heard. He turned to his friend, Kamal, who was standing beside him, shaking his head in disbelief.
"They're giving them citizenship, Kamal. Citizenship," Mahinda said, his voice thick with frustration.
"We've been fighting for years to keep Ceylon as a place for the Sinhalese, and now they're just going to let them stay. Is the government even listening to our voices, this not what we asked for.
Kamal, a schoolteacher who had always been more cautious in his opinions, nodded slowly. "It's true, Mahinda. But what can we do? The government's signed the pact. The Prime Minister's already agreed to it."
Mahinda clenched his fists, his frustration rising over again and again.
"And what happens next, huh? First, it's 300,000. Then it's more. They'll start demanding political power, more rights. They'll take over our jobs, our land. And we'll be left with nothing. Everything will soon be taken by them let alone us our kids will soon have nothing for themselves."
Kamal sighed, his brow furrowed in worry. "I don't think it's that simple, Mahinda. These people have lived here for generations too. They're part of this country. What can we do, drive them all out. It's important that we realised they are human after all, where will they go?".
Mahinda's eyes flashed with anger. "They are Human but not from this country. Maybe We should really drive then out of this country! They're not Ceylonese, Kamal. They've always been foreigners and will continue to remain so And now the government's just handing them our country on a silver platter."
The crowd continued to swell, and the chants grew louder.
Mahinda could feel the anger rising in him, the sense that something was slipping away, something that had been theirs for centuries.
He had never been a man for politics, but this, this felt personal.
Kamal placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We have to be careful, Mahinda. Violence won't solve anything. These tensions… they've been there for years, but they'll destroy this country if we're not careful."
Mahinda pulled away, his frustration not easing. "Careful? How long have we been careful, Kamal? How long have we sat back and watched as they took more and more of what's ours? We can't stay quiet forever."
Kamal frowned, sensing the depth of his friend's anger.
He knew Mahinda wasn't the only one who felt this way. Across Ceylon, there were many Sinhalese who believed the Indian Tamil community was a threat to their national identity, their culture.
And while Kamal didn't agree with the extremity of their views, he understood the fear. He had heard it in the conversations at the school, in the quiet talks at the temple.
There was a growing sense that something had to give and soon.
Meanwhile, deep in the central highlands, the Indian Tamil communities were facing their own crisis.
The news of the pact had brought little comfort, and now, fear was spreading.
Some whispered that they would be forced onto ships, sent to a country they had never known.
Others believed they would be left with nothing, abandoned by both Ceylon and India.
Ravi, who had spent his life working the tea fields, paced outside his home, his frustration increasing over as he spoke to a small group of neighbors.
His wife, Lakshmi, watched him from the doorway, her own heart heavy with worry.
"They expect us to leave," Ravi said, his voice loud enough to carry across the small gathering. "Leave the only home we've ever known. And for what? India? A place we've never even seen?"
Vikram, an older man who had lived in the village since his childhood, shook his head. "They've never cared about us. Not the Ceylonese government, not the Sinhalese. And now even India thinks they can just take us back, like we're some burden to be passed around. Our voices need to be heard".
Lakshmi stepped forward, her voice quieter but filled with pain. "I was born here. My parents were born here. And now they say we have to go? What kind of life will we have in India? We don't know that land. We dont know those people. Even if we go there, we will still be foreigner"
The group stood in silence for a moment.
There were no easy answers. The pact had promised a future, but that future felt distant and uncertain
For the Indian Tamils, it felt like a forced choice between two impossible options, leave behind everything they had built in Ceylon, or stay and risk being second-class citizens, always seen as outsiders.
Ravi shook his head again, his frustration clear. "We can't leave. We've built our lives here. My father worked these fields, and his father before him. They can't just push us out."
Lakshmi looked at her husband, her eyes filled with tears. "What if they do, Ravi? What if they force us?"
Ravi's jaw tightened, the weight of the question hanging in the air. "Then we fight. We stay. This is our land too."
******
In Colombo, the protests had reached a boiling point. Crowds filled the streets, waving flags and chanting slogans, both for and against the pact.
On one side, Indian Tamil activists like Anand led marches, demanding their right to stay, while on the other, Sinhalese nationalists gathered, insisting that the pact didn't go far enough.
They wanted every last Indian Tamil repatriated, not just 500,000.
Anand stood in front of a growing crowd, his voice filled with defiance as he addressed them.
"This is our home! We were born here, we've worked here, and we belong here! No pact can take that away from us!"
The crowd roared in agreement, their voices echoing through the narrow streets of Colombo.
But just a few blocks away, a different crowd was gathering. Sinhalese nationalists, frustrated and angry, had come together, their chants just as loud, just as impassioned.
A young Sinhalese man named Nimal stood at the front of the group, his face flushed with anger.
"They're taking over our country! The government's selling us out, giving them citizenship like it's nothing! We need to take a stand!"
The chants from both sides grew louder, the tension in the air thickening with every passing minute.
There was a sense that something dangerous was building, that this fragile peace could shatter at any moment.
Back in Kandy, Mahinda returned home from the protest, his heart still pounding with frustration. His wife, Sita, greeted him at the door, her eyes filled with concern. "You went to the protest, didn't you?"
Mahinda nodded, his face grim. "I had to, Sita. We can't let them take our country from us."
Sita sighed, shaking her head. "This isn't the way, Mahinda. We can't solve this with anger. You know that."
Mahinda's jaw clenched, his voice rising. "What choice do we have? They're giving them our land, our jobs. They're making them citizens!"
Sita reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "But they've lived here too. They're not outsiders. They've been here for generations, just like us."
Mahinda pulled away, his frustration boiling over. "They're not like us, Sita. And if we don't do something, they'll take everything we have."
Sita's eyes filled with sadness as she watched her husband.
She had seen this anger grow in him over the years, fueled by the divisions that had plagued their country.
But she feared that this anger, if left unchecked, would only lead to more pain.
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70.94%A New India / Chapter 126: Laying the Foundation of the CISF
Chapter 126: Laying the Foundation of the CISF
The crisis in Ceylon was brewing and heading to a direction Rohan was very well familiar.
He knew that soon a civil war will break out but the world has always been in an constant moving cycle with threats evolving.
That is why while he is keeping his eyes on that issue, he is working towards something more powerful.
Rohan in his previous world was always dissatisfied with Indian Government passive approach to threat.
But now that he has the opportunity and knowledge of future in 1953, he will make sure no one pushes India to the backfoot again.
Rohan sat at the head of the long mahogany table in his office, his eyes scanning the faces of his most trusted advisors and leaders.
Gathered around him were not just his closest confidants, but the key figures in India's security landscape
KN Menon, the Home Minister; Rao, the head of R&AW; Atma, the director of IB; KP Singh, the External Affairs Minister; and Neeraj, Rohan's personal advisor.
Each of these men had played a vital role in shaping the country's defense and intelligence apparatus
But today, they were here to discuss something even more significant, the creation of a specialized force to secure India's rapidly growing industrial sector.
Rohan had already laid the groundwork in his mind, drawing from his knowledge of the future.
He knew exactly what the nation needed, but convincing the others would take careful explanation.
He leaned forward, breaking the silence. "Gentlemen, I know everyone of you is tired with the things that are happening around us. But we have a duty to this nation which is to protect it forever. With NSG we have taken a step into the future but now it's time for something else."
Taking a pause, Rohan looked around and continued.
"India is growing. Our industries, power plants, airports, and refineries they are the heart of our economy, and they're vulnerable. We can't afford to protect them with only the military or local police. We need something more a dedicated force. That's why I'm proposing the creation of the Central Industrial Security Force, or CISF."
KN Menon**, the Home Minister, sat up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing slightly. "A specialized force? How different will this be from the paramilitary units we already have, Sir?"
Rohan glanced at Menon. If he didn't make his case clear, the idea could get slowed down in bureaucratic resistance.
"The police and paramilitary forces are overstretched. Their focus is law and order, and our military is concerned with external threats. But these industrial sites our power plants, steel factories, ports are exposed to sabotage, terrorism, and even internal unrest. The CISF would focus solely on protecting critical infrastructure."
Neeraj, sitting at the other end of the table, added, "If we lose any of these key installations, it won't just be a security breach it could bring the entire economy to a halt."
Rao, the head of R&AW, leaned forward, his voice calm but serious.
"We've seen attempts at sabotage in the past, Prime Minister. From foreign intelligence operations to insurgent groups. There have been probes at our oil refineries and even a few incidents near Nucelar power plants. This is becoming a real threat."
Atma, the head of IB, nodded in agreement. "Our internal intelligence shows similar risks. We've intercepted communications from groups that are planning to target our industrial backbone. The police and the military aren't equipped to deal with threats like these on a continuous basis. They're too scattered, and often too late to respond."
Rohan reached for the file in front of him and handed a copy to each man.
"I've drafted the structure and scope of the CISF here. This isn't just another security force, it will be a multi-tiered organization, designed to handle everything from physical security to disaster management and even intelligence sharing."
KP Singh, the External Affairs Minister, flipped through the file, raising an eyebrow. "You've already mapped out the hierarchy," he noted.
"I see there's a plan for sectors and zones. How do you envision this working?"
Rohan leaned back in his chair, explaining with precision. "We'll divide the CISF into geographic sectors, North, South, East, West, and North-East. Each of these sectors will be overseen by an Inspector General. These IGs will report directly to the Director-General of the CISF, who in turn will report to the Home Ministry. The idea is to have layers of command so that no critical facility is left unguarded."
Menon nodded slowly, understanding. "It's a smart structure. But I'm concerned about logistics. How will we recruit the personnel needed to man these posts? And more importantly, how do we train them?"
Rohan smiled. He had anticipated this question. "We'll recruit veterans from the military and police forces to form the core of the CISF. These individuals already have the discipline and experience we need. But their training won't stop there. We'll establish specialized training academies. The National Industrial Security Academy in Hyderabad will be our main hub for advanced training. Recruits will learn not just basic combat, but also industrial security protocols, disaster management, and counter-terrorism techniques."
Atma, who had been quietly studying the file, spoke up. "I see you've included a Fire Wing as part of the structure. This is smart, considering the risk of industrial accidents. Fires and explosions are as much a threat to our infrastructure as sabotage."
Rohan nodded. "Exactly. We'll need about 5,000 personnel trained in fire safety, stationed at key sites like oil refineries, steel plants, and chemical factories. We can't rely on local fire departments alone. Our personnel will need to know how to handle industrial-scale disasters."
Rao, leaned forward. "You've mentioned intelligence sharing. How closely will the CISF be working with R&AW and IB?"
"Very closely," Rohan responded, his voice firm. "The CISF will need real-time intelligence to prevent sabotage and terror attacks. Your teams will play a crucial role. The CISF will have an intelligence division that liaises with both of your agencies to stay ahead of any emerging threats. We can't afford to be reactive, we need to be proactive."
Neeraj glanced up from his file, a look of concern on his face. "And what about the coordination with local law enforcement? There could be issues with jurisdiction."
Rohan waved a hand, dismissing the concern. "The CISF will work alongside local police, but in the event of a crisis, they'll have overriding authority on-site. This will prevent delays in decision-making. Time is critical in situations like fires, terrorist threats, or industrial accidents. If the CISF is on the ground, they'll have command."
Menon scratched his chin, clearly impressed but still cautious. "It's ambitious, Sir, You're talking about building an entire new force from the ground up. How long do you think this will take. Considering in mind that we just established NSG"
"We'll start small," Rohan said. "The initial force will consist of around 3,000 men, and we'll focus on our most critical infrastructure first, airports, power plants, refineries. Over the next few years, we'll expand. The long-term goal is to have over **100,000 personnel. By then, we'll be covering ports, steel plants, and telecommunications centers."
KP Singh looked up, his face serious. "Prime Minister, this could change the way we approach national security. But we'll need more than just internal cooperation. The private sector will need to buy into this as well. Are we going to force industries to accept government security?"
Rohan shook his head. "No, KP. The CISF will be offered as a service, especially to private industries. They'll have the option to hire the CISF for their security needs. We'll make amendments to the CISF Act, allowing them to provide consultancy services. This way, even private enterprises will benefit from government-level security."
Menon leaned back in his chair, clearly thinking over the idea. "So, we're not just creating a security force, we're creating a security industry. If the private sector sees the CISF as a valuable asset, they'll pay to protect their assets, and that'll help sustain the force."
"Exactly," Rohan said with a satisfied nod. "It's a long-term investment in our country's security and economic future. As India grows, so will the threats to our critical infrastructure. We need to be prepared."
Rao and Atma exchanged a glance, both clearly on board. "Our intelligence teams will support this, Prime Minister," Rao said.
"But we'll need to coordinate closely, especially as the CISF expands into more vulnerable industries."
Rohan stood, sensing that the discussion was coming to a close.
"This force," Rohan said quietly but firmly, "will be our shield. It's not just about guarding infrastructure, it's about protecting the very future of this nation. We can't afford to let our industries become targets."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation sinking in.
Finally, Menon nodded, breaking the silence. "You have my full support, Prime Minister. Let's get this moving."
The rest of the room echoed his sentiment, and Rohan felt a sense of quiet satisfaction.
While it may take some time, but eventually India will become one of the first countries who established very useful and powerful institutions.
It won't be India who will be passive anymore.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Clautic
Sri Lankan Crisis will continue, I just gave a brief pause to make it more fresh.
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71.5%A New India / Chapter 127: Drafting the CISF Act of 1953
Chapter 127: Drafting the CISF Act of 1953