New Delhi:
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has described Naxalism as one of the greatest threats to India's internal security.
Naxalites today are spread across 20 states, and the red corridor, as it's called, runs through an expanse of 40,000 sq kms. And over the years, violence by Naxals has claimed thousands of lives, 3800 alone since 2004.
Yet in cinema and popular culture, Naxalism is still often associated with the romantic rebellion of the 60s, when Naxalites were not gun-toting men who lived deep in the forests but intellectuals and ideologues in search of a revolution.
London educated Kobad Ghandy was trained to be a chartered accountant. He studied at Doon School and St Xaviers and soon abandoned family and wealth to go underground as a Naxal worker.
Today, after his arrest, he's being billed as top Maoist by the government.
Activists say the battle against Naxalism cannot be won unless the root causes are addressed, abject poverty, ineffective political democracy and misuse of state power.
Such as what happened with Binyak Sen, a doctor who was locked up on charges of having links with Maoists for two years.
But those taking on the Naxals in the heartland of India, those who watch police stations ripped apart by bombs, train tracks blown apart and jawans, who lose their lives on a daily basis, warn against being soft on Naxal terror.
Home Minister P Chidambaram is now trying to evolve a policy that walks the middle path. He's ready for talks he says but Naxals must end the violence.
Perhaps the real tragedy of Naxal violence and the areas it dominates is how little attention it gets in the national media, grabbing the headlines only when people are killed or arrests are made.
And in the meantime, in India's heart of darkness, a silent war is being fought where no one seems to be winning.
Naxalites today are spread across 20 states, and the red corridor, as it's called, runs through an expanse of 40,000 sq kms. And over the years, violence by Naxals has claimed thousands of lives, 3800 alone since 2004.
Yet in cinema and popular culture, Naxalism is still often associated with the romantic rebellion of the 60s, when Naxalites were not gun-toting men who lived deep in the forests but intellectuals and ideologues in search of a revolution.
London educated Kobad Ghandy was trained to be a chartered accountant. He studied at Doon School and St Xaviers and soon abandoned family and wealth to go underground as a Naxal worker.
Today, after his arrest, he's being billed as top Maoist by the government.
Activists say the battle against Naxalism cannot be won unless the root causes are addressed, abject poverty, ineffective political democracy and misuse of state power.
Such as what happened with Binyak Sen, a doctor who was locked up on charges of having links with Maoists for two years.
But those taking on the Naxals in the heartland of India, those who watch police stations ripped apart by bombs, train tracks blown apart and jawans, who lose their lives on a daily basis, warn against being soft on Naxal terror.
Home Minister P Chidambaram is now trying to evolve a policy that walks the middle path. He's ready for talks he says but Naxals must end the violence.
Perhaps the real tragedy of Naxal violence and the areas it dominates is how little attention it gets in the national media, grabbing the headlines only when people are killed or arrests are made.
And in the meantime, in India's heart of darkness, a silent war is being fought where no one seems to be winning.
