Despite statewide crime dip, Guwahati arms up in growing culture of self-defence
Experts caution that without legal clarity or restraint, self-defence weapons may provoke violence instead of ensuring real safety

Representative image of a bustling street in Guwahati. (AT Photo)
While Assam’s overall crime rate has reportedly declined—dropping from 385.5 in 2019 to 127 this year in the latest police review—on the streets of Guwahati, a very different story is unfolding.
A quiet transformation is underway in the capital city, as growing fears over rising crimes—ranging from murder and robbery to chain-snatching and assaults—have pushed many ordinary citizens to take their safety into their own hands.
Arming themselves with pepper sprays, batons, knives, and in some worrying instances, even illegal firearms, a section of Guwahatians now claim they carry weapons not to attack, but to defend.
In Panbazar, a usually crowded commercial hub, The Assam Tribune spoke with Rakesh Deka, a 34-year-old shop owner who carries a baton with him.
"I close shop at 9 pm and have to walk to the parking area. Last month, my friend was mugged just a few lanes away. What can I do? I need to protect myself. The police can’t be everywhere," he said.
Deka isn’t alone. Even the youth of today, echo this sentiment. “I don’t blame the police. But if I’m walking home late at night, I need to know I can protect myself. I always carry pepper spray in my purse,” says Ankita Das, a college student from Maligaon.
Another 24-year-old from Zoo Road revealed he carries a small knife or a knuckle duster in his backpack.
“I never imagined I’d need something like this. But now, it feels necessary. It’s about survival,” he said, adding that while he’s trained in combat, he prefers being “prepared, not paranoid.”
A young woman lies injured on the Adabari road after a broad daylight attack on June 23. (AT Photo)
This shift reflects more than just anxiety—it signals a widening gap between public perception and institutional assurance. And as the number of self-armed civilians grows, so does the concern.
Experts warn that without legal clarity, public awareness, and individual restraint, these weapons could end up escalating tense situations rather than defusing them.
To understand the psychology behind this shift, clinical psychologist Dr. Madhurima Bhattacharya explained, “It is a classic case of collective trauma and an erosion of trust in institutional systems. When people repeatedly feel unsafe—whether due to news reports, personal experiences, or even WhatsApp forwards—they begin to internalise a sense of constant danger.”
“Even a city with decent law and order can become emotionally insecure if the perception of fear spreads unchecked,” she added.
Recently, Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma announced a cabinet decision to grant arms licences to indigenous citizens living in vulnerable and remote areas of the state. The move, aimed at empowering local communities in light of rising concerns over cross-border infiltration and security threats, has understandably sparked a debate.
But the question it raises is crucial - in trying to promote self-defence, are we also paving the way for greater violence?
Under Indian law, citizens are allowed to possess certain self-defence tools such as pepper spray. However, carrying firearms without a valid licence is a criminal offence under the Arms Act.
While the desire for personal safety is understandable, many are sounding the alarm over what they see as a growing vigilante mindset.
Speaking to The Assam Tribune, a senior police officer from Paltan Bazar Police Station said, “Possessing items like knives or sticks isn’t necessarily a crime. It all depends on how they are used. Ultimately, it’s up to the individual—how they wield that power. If they use it for the wrong reasons, that’s on them. If it’s for good, that’s a choice too.”
“These choices are shaped by upbringing, family values, and the moral fabric of society. That said, people today need to be more mindful. We must not normalise reactionary behaviour,” he added.
Another police officer from Dispur echoed similar concerns: “We’re not against people wanting to feel safe, but carrying weapons is not the solution. What truly helps is awareness, presence of mind, and faith in the support of law enforcement.”
Despite these reassurances, many residents remain skeptical. “With all due respect to the police,” said Kanti Kalita, a mother of two from Zoo Road, “how often can they actually respond within minutes? Until help arrives, we’re on our own.”
This real—or perceived—gap between state security and personal safety continues to widen the divide.
Today, Guwahati stands at a crossroads. As citizens try to balance safety with responsibility, and the state seeks to maintain order without undermining civil liberties, the need of the hour is a shared commitment—between the public, police, and policymakers—to rebuild trust and collective security.
Until that happens, the city’s streets will continue to reflect a troubling paradox - citizens arming themselves against fear, only to become prisoners of it.