08-02-2025     3 رجب 1440

The Invisible Pillars of Higher Education

July 31, 2025 | Dr. Aasif Ahmad

Who can truly understand the lifestyle of a person whose needs are never fulfilled by the very system they serve? Who can measure the weight of unacknowledged commitment or the pain of recurring uncertainty? The life of a Contractual Assistant Professor in Jammu and Kashmir is one such tale—of dedication without reward, of service without security, and of respect in society but rejection within the system.

In a world where teachers are hailed as nation builders, it is ironic how many of them, especially in Jammu and Kashmir, are made to feel like expendable entities. Across various Indian states, contractual Assistant Professors are rightfully recognized throughout the academic year, often receiving fair treatment and timely salaries. But here, the same category of educators is treated as seasonal labor—engaged temporarily, removed abruptly, and paid irregularly.
Despite holding postgraduate degrees, clearing eligibility tests, and having vast experience, we, the contractual educators, are not considered worthy of full-time roles. We are proudly paraded as “faculty” when colleges open, only to be silently disengaged before the academic session even concludes. Even our remuneration does not follow the norms set by the University Grants Commission (UGC), making it a double blow—professional and financial.
Every year, the cycle repeats itself. In September 2024, the department once again engaged us for the 2024–25 session. But as the winter break approached, a 50-day void in salary payments bruised not just our financial health, but also our dignity. During those weeks, we weren’t just idle—we were anxious, helpless, and unheard. Families suffered, children asked questions, bills piled up, and all we could do was wait—unpaid, uncertain, and unwanted.
And now, as the session ends on 31st July, our hearts tremble again. What next? When will the next engagement order come? Will it come at all? What answer do we give to society, to our loved ones, and worse—to ourselves? Should we console our families with lies or ask them to wait endlessly like we do?
I speak not just for myself, though my own journey has been long—eight years of service, starting from 2013 under academic arrangement. Despite my dedication, I remain on the fringes. I continue to face the same discrimination, humiliation, and uncertainty that greeted me at the beginning of my career. Every year, my hope shrinks, but my responsibilities grow.
Those in power offer sweet words and empty promises—assuring that things will be streamlined, that justice will prevail. But the ground reality stays unchanged. The salary of ₹28,000 per month, already far below the UGC recommendation, is made even more insulting when delayed or deducted for no fault of ours.

The Higher Education Department of Jammu and Kashmir needs to recognize this injustice. It must not only regularize the system but also honor the dignity of those who serve it with selfless commitment. A temporary label should not mean temporary humanity. Teachers deserve security, respect, and fairness—not just in public addresses but in policy and practice.
We are not asking for favors. We are demanding what is rightfully ours—continuity, dignity, timely salary, and above all, recognition as educators who shape lives. The time to act is now—before we lose another generation of youth to disillusionment, despair, and disengagement.


Email:---------------------------aasifdar46@gmail.com

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The Invisible Pillars of Higher Education

July 31, 2025 | Dr. Aasif Ahmad

Who can truly understand the lifestyle of a person whose needs are never fulfilled by the very system they serve? Who can measure the weight of unacknowledged commitment or the pain of recurring uncertainty? The life of a Contractual Assistant Professor in Jammu and Kashmir is one such tale—of dedication without reward, of service without security, and of respect in society but rejection within the system.

In a world where teachers are hailed as nation builders, it is ironic how many of them, especially in Jammu and Kashmir, are made to feel like expendable entities. Across various Indian states, contractual Assistant Professors are rightfully recognized throughout the academic year, often receiving fair treatment and timely salaries. But here, the same category of educators is treated as seasonal labor—engaged temporarily, removed abruptly, and paid irregularly.
Despite holding postgraduate degrees, clearing eligibility tests, and having vast experience, we, the contractual educators, are not considered worthy of full-time roles. We are proudly paraded as “faculty” when colleges open, only to be silently disengaged before the academic session even concludes. Even our remuneration does not follow the norms set by the University Grants Commission (UGC), making it a double blow—professional and financial.
Every year, the cycle repeats itself. In September 2024, the department once again engaged us for the 2024–25 session. But as the winter break approached, a 50-day void in salary payments bruised not just our financial health, but also our dignity. During those weeks, we weren’t just idle—we were anxious, helpless, and unheard. Families suffered, children asked questions, bills piled up, and all we could do was wait—unpaid, uncertain, and unwanted.
And now, as the session ends on 31st July, our hearts tremble again. What next? When will the next engagement order come? Will it come at all? What answer do we give to society, to our loved ones, and worse—to ourselves? Should we console our families with lies or ask them to wait endlessly like we do?
I speak not just for myself, though my own journey has been long—eight years of service, starting from 2013 under academic arrangement. Despite my dedication, I remain on the fringes. I continue to face the same discrimination, humiliation, and uncertainty that greeted me at the beginning of my career. Every year, my hope shrinks, but my responsibilities grow.
Those in power offer sweet words and empty promises—assuring that things will be streamlined, that justice will prevail. But the ground reality stays unchanged. The salary of ₹28,000 per month, already far below the UGC recommendation, is made even more insulting when delayed or deducted for no fault of ours.

The Higher Education Department of Jammu and Kashmir needs to recognize this injustice. It must not only regularize the system but also honor the dignity of those who serve it with selfless commitment. A temporary label should not mean temporary humanity. Teachers deserve security, respect, and fairness—not just in public addresses but in policy and practice.
We are not asking for favors. We are demanding what is rightfully ours—continuity, dignity, timely salary, and above all, recognition as educators who shape lives. The time to act is now—before we lose another generation of youth to disillusionment, despair, and disengagement.


Email:---------------------------aasifdar46@gmail.com


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