The BJP’s Ganesha Gambit

Pune’s Ganeshotsav has become an enormous civic and political stage, and the ruling party has proved adept at occupying it. Pune: The city’s Ganeshotsav is entering its final phase, but the festival has already demonstrated something beyond its extraordinary crowds and familiar spectacle: the extent to which it has become a political stage. This year, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has left a particularly visible imprint on the festivities, using an event that reaches deep into the city’s...

min read

Pune’s Ganeshotsav has become an enormous civic and political stage, and the ruling party has proved adept at occupying it. Pune: The city’s Ganeshotsav is entering its final phase, but the festival has already demonstrated something beyond its extraordinary crowds and familiar spectacle: the extent to which it has become a political stage. This year, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has left a particularly visible imprint on the festivities, using an event that reaches deep into the city’s neighbourhoods as an opportunity for public outreach. The political appropriation of the festival has not, however, been without a counter-current. Demands were raised for curbs on noise pollution, loudspeakers and the volume of dhol-tasha performances. The argument was not against Ganeshotsav itself, but for moderation - notably, a complete ban on DJ music and limits on the number of dhol and tasha instruments used by performing troupes. Familiar Troubles The festival’s reality has been rather different. Major roads have been occupied by mandaps. Processions celebrating the arrival of Lord Ganesha have unfolded amid punishing noise. DJ music, while subject to restrictions, has continued. Traffic congestion has become a familiar feature of the festival, with the movement of political leaders adding another layer to the city’s already strained roads. The Peth areas have remained crowded deep into the night. The Shrimant Dagdusheth Halwai Ganpati temple has drawn enormous crowds for darshan from the opening day. From the old city to housing societies and neighbourhood mandals, Ganeshotsav touches virtually every part of Pune. For a political party seeking a direct connection with citizens, few occasions offer such a ready-made network of people, institutions and local influencers. The BJP enters this festival with an unusually formidable organisational base. It has two MPs, seven MLAs and more than 100 corporators in Pune. Murlidhar Mohol, one of the city’s MPs, is a Union Minister of State. Chandrakant Patil is a Cabinet minister in the Maharashtra government, while Madhuri Misal is a Minister of State. The party’s presence also extends into the festival’s organisational architecture. Its influence is visible across numerous mandals, large and small. BJP MLA Hemant Rasane is General Secretary of the Shrimant Dagdusheth Halwai Sarvajanik Ganpati Trust. Kunal Tilak, a member of Lokmanya Tilak’s family, is a BJP corporator. The political and cultural histories of Pune therefore intersect in ways that are difficult to ignore. The BJP’s senior leadership has also made the most of the occasion. National President Nitin Nabin visited Pune to seek Lord Ganesha’s blessings, while Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis visited the city before and during the festival. Such visits are about more than religious observance. In a festival watched by millions and embedded in the city’s social life, political visibility comes almost automatically. There is also talk in Pune that the BJP provided substantial financial support to Dhol-Lezim troupes and their organisers, with claims that some major mandals received financial backing as well. These claims would require independent verification, but the perception itself points to the depth of the political contest around Ganeshotsav. BJP workers, according to local observers, have also sought to make their presence more conspicuous than that of festivities organised by housing societies. Useful Expedient The festival arrives at a politically useful moment for the BJP. The party has faced disquiet on several fronts. Young people have been agitated over the paper-leak controversy. Broader public dissatisfaction has been voiced over inflation and unemployment, while government policies relating to ethanol and charges associated with UPI transactions have also generated criticism. While a political party can defend a policy in a press conference and advertise its achievements, during Ganeshotsav, its workers can be physically present in neighbourhoods, among processions, mandals, cultural groups and devotees. Politics thus becomes less about argument and more about visibility. That is the BJP’s advantage in Pune. Ganeshotsav, after all, is not simply a sequence of religious rituals. It is an elaborate civic network involving local organisers, volunteers, cultural groups, businesses, residents and political representatives. Whoever has influence over that network acquires a powerful channel of communication with the city. The BJP appears to understand this particularly well. Its strength in Pune’s electoral politics has been reinforced by a presence that extends beyond elections and into the institutions and social spaces that organise public life. The irony is that the very scale of the festival that makes it politically attractive also magnifies the civic costs. The political value of Ganeshotsav and the civic burden it creates are therefore two sides of the same phenomenon. For Pune, the larger question is not whether politics has entered Ganeshotsav. It has done so for decades. The more consequential question is whether the festival’s extraordinary social capital will remain primarily a vehicle for political outreach or whether the same influence can be used to reconcile celebration with the ordinary civic needs of the city. For the moment, the BJP seems to have understood the first proposition better than most.

A Sleepless Night, a Stolen Passport, and Leadership Tested

Archita Redkar

Feb 5

4 min read

Panic was not an option. Someone had to stay steady — and that someone was me.

Previously, I discussed the importance of proper travel documentation. Today, I want to share an incident that tested my professional skills, patience, courage, and leadership — the night a guest’s passport was stolen abroad.

This happened in 2008, when I was travelling with a group of 38 guests from Malaysia to Singapore. After completing our sightseeing, we spent our final evening in Kuala Lumpur. After dinner, we headed to the railway station to board our overnight train to Singapore.

Before entering the station, I briefed everyone about the layout. The station had two levels — we would enter from the upper level and go downstairs to the platform. As always, I stayed at the back to ensure no one was left behind.

We boarded with 20–25 minutes to spare. As part of my routine, I reminded everyone to double-check their passports and tickets. That simple reminder changed the entire night.

One of the ladies looked at me in fear — her passport was missing. The cheerful mood turned into silence and anxiety. International travel without a passport was legally impossible. I asked her to stay calm and immediately informed the security officers.

She had kept her passport in her handbag, but the bag was missing. Security searched the compartments and soon found her purse discarded in another coach. It was hers — but the passport, cash, and key documents were gone.

I could see fear on her face. Panic was not an option. Someone had to stay steady — and that someone was me.

Without a passport in a foreign country, the consequences could be serious. The first step was to file a police complaint and obtain an FIR. But the train was about to depart. I could neither leave the group alone nor abandon the distressed guest.

Within seconds, I decided we would travel to Johor Bahru, the Malaysian border town, and disembark there to handle the situation safely.

I explained the situation to my group and sought help from another Indian tour leader on the same train. I asked him to assist them in Singapore until our local representative arrived. Without hesitation, he agreed.

At around 4:00 a.m., we reached Johor Bahru. We stepped into an unfamiliar city before dawn — exhausted and anxious. With no smartphones or navigation apps then, we relied entirely on locals for directions.

After some searching, we found a police station. The officers responded slowly at first, but we insisted on filing the complaint. Surprisingly, they asked me to write the FIR myself. I recorded every detail carefully. Finally, we received the official FIR — a small piece of paper, but our biggest hope at that moment.

Next, we had to return to Kuala Lumpur to approach the Indian Consulate. We rested briefly, then found the bus station and bought tickets. The five-and-a-half-hour journey back felt endless. Neither of us slept.

We reached Kuala Lumpur around 1:00 p.m. and checked into the same hotel. I immediately informed our office in India. Sameer and our team responded instantly, coordinating with local suppliers and guiding us through the next steps.

Soon, I received confirmation that my group had safely reached Singapore and checked into their hotel. That message brought immense relief. Now I could focus fully on the guest beside me.

With the FIR, return ticket, photographs, and identity proofs ready, we visited the Indian Consulate in Putrajaya. After verifying the documents, they issued an emergency certificate — a temporary travel document valid for a single journey back to India. Holding it in my hand, I felt hope returning.

The next day, I accompanied her to Kuala Lumpur International Airport and waited until she boarded the flight. Only after take-off did I finally breathe freely.

I then flew to Singapore to rejoin my group. They completed their itinerary smoothly, and we eventually returned to Mumbai with both excitement and an unforgettable lesson.

This incident happened in 2008 — long before smartphones, instant maps, or constant connectivity. We depended on ISD calls, local contacts, and teamwork. I remain deeply grateful to everyone who supported us during those difficult hours.

That sleepless night reinforced a powerful truth: a passport is not just a booklet. It carries your identity, security, and freedom to cross borders. When it is lost, fear is natural — but calm action, proper procedure, and responsible leadership can turn crisis into resolution.

Leadership isn’t measured when everything goes as planned. It is revealed when things go wrong — when someone must stand firm, think clearly, and protect others despite exhaustion and uncertainty.

That night tested me. And that night strengthened me.

Most importantly, it reminded me that beyond itineraries and sightseeing, our real responsibility is people — their safety, their trust, and their safe return home.

The writer is a tourism professional and runs a company, Global Voyages. She could be contacted at goglobalvoyages@gmail.com. Views personal.)

The BJP’s Ganesha Gambit

A Sleepless Night, a Stolen Passport, and Leadership Tested

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