From Confrontation to Compassion: Indianizing Prevention and Restoring Human Dignity in Drug Response
By *Suneel Vatsyayan
The journey from confrontation to compassion in India’s drug response is not merely a professional reflection—it’s a personal one. It began for me in 1985, when I met a 16-year-old boy struggling with petrol sniffing. Brought by his mother to the Observation Home for Boys near Delhi Gate, this moment left an indelible impact. It was before I officially joined Navjyoti, but it became the seed of my lifelong commitment to humanizing addiction treatment.
When I joined Navjyoti, established under the Delhi Police Foundation for Correction, De-addiction, and Rehabilitation in 1987, I came as a trained social worker—not just to treat symptoms, but to restore dignity. Back then, and still today, I hold this belief: No human being should be reduced to their addiction. The challenge of substance use is not merely medical—it is deeply social, cultural, and spiritual.
Confronting the Gaps
As the Convenor of the Delhi NGO Forum for Children in Difficult Circumstances, I advocated for convergence in government efforts. Navjyoti’s early intervention with children, especially those referred by Salaam Baalak Trust (SBT), pushed boundaries. We created community-based, inclusive responses—working with children at Hanuman Mandir, backed by the Caring Foundation, where we replaced stigma with belonging.
We even supported a Census of Children Living on the Streets, spotlighting substance use in this vulnerable group. One glaring void we noticed: the invisibility of women with substance use disorders. At the Caring Foundation, in collaboration with UNODC, we documented their struggles—hidden under layers of societal silence.
Media as Prevention
I began leveraging media—starting with community radio, expanding to mass media and eventually digital platforms. A communication strategy supported by the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment (MSJE) solidified my belief:
Communication isn’t just a tool; it’s a treatment.
Humanizing Prevention
Prevention, to me, is the soul of social work. At Navjyoti, consent was not a checkbox—it was sacred. We treated patients before diagnosis to relieve their suffering—not to confront, but to create safe space for truth to surface. Denial wasn’t broken by force but softened by care.
This shift in approach has informed my work today at Nada India Foundation and as an Executive Member of NAPSWI. Prevention must be Bharatiya in spirit—rooted in our indigenous values. In our group counselling sessions, we drew upon Vipassana philosophy: observing without judgment, recognizing the self beyond labels.
A Holistic Model of Recovery
Addiction is socially transmitted; treatment must be socially anchored. We at Navjyoti integrated homeopathy, yoga, nature cure, and NADA ear acupuncture, alongside mainstream approaches. Unlike many centers, we never shut our doors. Our peer-led, community-supported models respected individual journeys.
Recovery was not a punishment. It was an act of restoration and dignity.
We made a case to the MSJE that social workers can serve as project directors—a model now echoed by de-addiction centers in Delhi NCR ,Punjab and Haryana. These states recognize that the peer-led habitation model is not only cost-effective but more accessible—especially for low-income groups who face high out-of-pocket costs, lost wages, and lack of insurance coverage for addiction.
Often, individuals must access care under psychiatric classifications to receive support—further stigmatizing their condition. We need a paradigm that recognizes addiction as both a health and a social condition—requiring rehabilitation beyond detox and treatment for comorbidities.
Reclaiming Consent, Restoring Humanity
Even today, many rehabilitation centers operate behind closed doors, denying individuals the right to informed consent. But I insist:
The person is not the problem—they have a problem.
We helped people peel away the label of “addict” and rediscover their core humanity—their emotions, potential, and pain. Families were our frontline caregivers. In the absence of services, police stations became last-resort help centers, not sites of punishment but of protection.
From Police to Partners
This approach was made possible by visionary leadership. Under the bold guidance of Dr. Kiran Bedi, then DCP of North Delhi, beat constables were trained as social workers. Their mandate went beyond crime control—they visited homes, built relationships, and supported adolescents in distress.
Delhi’s urban villages opened their hearts to this shift. Unfortunately, over the years, the collective spirit of community-driven prevention has waned. Today, the field is dominated by professionals and private actors, sidelining the family and community.
A Changing Landscape, A Persistent Need
The profile of those we serve remains similar, but society's gaze has shifted. More people celebrate recovery, embrace healthy living, and share their “recovery birthdays” on social media—a public affirmation that healing is possible.
Yet, the deaths of Suresh and Pawan (names changed)—long-recovered individuals and former peer leaders—due to NCDs highlight a critical gap: the integration of non-communicable disease prevention into post-treatment care.
Moving Forward: Institutionalizing Compassion
Today, India’s push for Nasha Mukt Bharat and multi-agency plans (like JAP from NCPCR and NCB) show intent. But prevention is still treated as a luxury. It must become a national development priority.
Social work sees the human first—it restores dignity and promotes self-determination. We need trained professionals, equipped with empathy, cultural understanding, and communication skills.
As we navigate Amrit Kaal, India must establish an Indian Cadre of Social Defence Services—not as bureaucracy, but as necessity. We already have laws and schemes. What we need is sensitive implementation.
A Collective Future
The police must be first responders with compassion, not force. Families must return as core agents of prevention, and youth must be trusted not only as the future, but as co-creators of change today.
India’s constitutional promise of justice cannot be realized unless prevention is central to development.
Prevention is social work. It is action rooted in empathy, driven by resilience, and guided by the belief that no person is beyond redemption.
This journey from confrontation to compassion continues. And I walk it still—with the same unwavering belief I held in 1987:
We must connect before we diagnose. Listen before we intervene. Understand before we suggest a new identity.
Only then can we restore dignity—and truly heal.