The year 2025 drew to a close amid nationwide protests demanding justice for Anjel Chakma, a 24-year-old MBA student whose killing in Dehradun has reignited urgent conversations around racism, identity, and the treatment of people from India’s Northeast.

According to multiple news reports, the incident occurred on December 9, 2025, when Anjel stepped out on a routine errand with his brother, Michael Chakma. The two were allegedly confronted by a group of local men who hurled racial slurs at them—targeting their physical appearance and the language they spoke. When the brothers objected, the situation rapidly escalated into violence.

Anjel was repeatedly stabbed and suffered critical injuries. He battled for his life for 16 days before succumbing in hospital. His final words—“I’m not Chinese. I’m an Indian.”—have since become a haunting symbol of the prejudice he faced and the identity he was forced to defend even in his final moments.

Anjel hailed from Tripura, one of India’s seven northeastern states that have long been constitutionally recognised as integral parts of the Union. Yet, for many citizens from the region, belonging often remains questioned. For countless students and professionals from the Northeast living in so-called “mainland” India, explaining where their home state is becomes an exhausting routine.

People from Tripura are frequently asked whether the state is part of Assam, or worse, confused with places in South India due to superficial similarities in names. Such questions are often posed with striking confidence and little self-awareness. While baffling, these encounters point to a larger problem—an entrenched ignorance about the Northeast that goes far beyond individual lapses in knowledge.

This ignorance, many argue, is not accidental. It is the product of decades of systemic exoticisation of the region and its people. The Northeast is often viewed as culturally and racially “other,” rather than as a diverse and deeply rooted part of the Indian social fabric.

In reality, the demography of Northeast India is as complex and varied as any other region in the country. The population has been shaped by centuries of tribal migration, cultural exchange, and religious transitions—from animistic traditions to Buddhism, Hinduism, and Christianity. Contrary to popular stereotypes, people from the Northeast do not all look alike, speak the same languages, or share identical cultural practices.

The killing of Anjel Chakma has thus come to represent more than a single act of violence. For many protesters and citizens, it stands as a stark reminder of how racial profiling, casual discrimination, and institutional neglect can culminate in irreversible loss. As calls for accountability grow louder, Anjel’s story has forced the nation to confront an uncomfortable truth: until ignorance is addressed and empathy replaces prejudice, citizenship for many from the Northeast will continue to be conditional rather than equal.