Every August 15, the country celebrates its freedom with tricolours displayed in schools, colleges, and public squares. Leaders talk about the sacrifices that made India independent and discuss the ideals of justice, equality, and dignity for every citizen. Patriotic songs fill the air, and students recite poems about liberty.
However, for thousands of college lecturers in Jammu and Kashmir, these celebrations carry a bitter irony. They watch the flag being raised on their campuses while still tied down by insecure contracts, late payments, and professional invisibility. They teach their students the values of freedom and self-reliance, yet those very freedoms are denied in their own lives.
These lecturers are not unqualified or inexperienced. Many hold MPhils and PhDs, and have passed national eligibility tests like the UGC-NET or SLET. They are essential to the higher education system in J&K, especially in rural and semi-urban colleges where permanent faculty positions remain unfilled year after year. Yet, they work on short-term contracts that are renewed each year. Their pay ranges from ₹24,000 to ₹28,000 per month, often arriving months late.
This situation is not just an economic issue; it is a structural injustice. A lecturer may spend over a decade teaching different generations without ever receiving a permanent appointment letter. The uncertainty is continuous: Will the contract be renewed? Will the salary be on time this month? How can someone plan for a home loan or a child’s education when the future feels so unstable?
The psychological burden is significant. Permanent faculty enjoy medical benefits, pensions, research opportunities, and the chance to focus solely on academic work. Contractual lecturers often live in a state of professional limbo. They frequently have to take on private tutoring or other part-time jobs just to survive. This additional work isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity. It takes away from their time for research, innovation, and mentoring students.
The problem isn’t new, but J&K’s political changes since 2019 have made it worse. After Article 370 was revoked and the state was turned into a Union Territory, the education sector has seen policy changes without providing real help to contractual teaching staff. Government statements have promised better pay, and clearer recruitment processes. Committees have been formed; files have been shuffled. But for the affected lecturers, these remain mere promises.
The absence of a regular recruitment cycle for permanent positions keeps this dependence on contractual staff in place. Colleges thrive because of them, yet the system treats them as disposable. This creates a contradiction: the people who keep higher education running are the ones most ignored by it.
Some might say that contractual arrangements provide flexibility and efficiency. Yet, when a large portion of your faculty relies on insecure contracts, you end up with an unstable academic environment. Students suffer when teachers are overworked, underpaid, and uncertain about their future. The quality of education depends greatly on the well-being of educators.
This is not just an issue for J&K. Across India, universities and colleges rely heavily on guest or ad hoc faculty to fill teaching gaps. But in a region like J&K, where higher education is vital for social stability and economic growth, the situation is more critical. A disheartened teaching workforce undermines the idea of education as an equaliser.
True independence is not only about the absence of foreign rule. It is about ensuring dignity, fairness, and opportunity for every citizen. For a contractual lecturer, independence would mean fair pay that reflects their qualifications and workload, timely salary payments, and a clear, merit-based route to permanent employment. It would allow them to focus on teaching and research without the constant worry of financial insecurity.
Seventy-eight years after India’s independence, we must ask: Can we genuinely call ourselves free when those responsible for educating our youth live in a state of ongoing economic struggle? We take pride in our IT hubs, space program, and global diaspora. But if the classrooms where future scientists, leaders, and thinkers are trained are staffed by struggling teachers, what kind of independence is that?
The J&K administration, along with the Union Ministry of Education, must take decisive action. First, pay for contractual lecturers needs urgent adjustment to match the cost of living and professional standards. Second, the chronic delays in salary payments must end; no educator should wait months for their pay. Third, a clear regularisation policy should be implemented for those who have served for years with proven performance. Finally, professional development opportunities such as research grants, training, and conference funding should be made available to contractual staff, treating them as equal academic contributors.
If these steps are taken, Independence Day can become more than a mere symbol for J&K’s lecturers. It can mark the start of their own journey toward real freedom—freedom from insecurity, invisibility, and the feeling of being second-class professionals in the institutions they support.
Freedom is not a one-time event. It is a promise that must be renewed through actions and policies that uphold the dignity of all citizens, not just through speeches and celebrations. This August 15, as the tricolour flies high and speeches highlight national progress, let us remember that independence is incomplete when our classrooms rely on insecure contracts. The true measure of a free society lies not in how high its flag is raised, but in how well it cares for those who shape its future.

Email:--------------------------ashwinsociology@gmail.com