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By:

Uday Jogalekar

13 May 2026 at 3:25:14 pm

From Pracharak to Minister: My Memories of Dilipda

Long before he became a minister, Dilipda had already earned our respect through his simplicity, discipline, and warmth. In 2007, my job brought me to Kolkata. Once there, I began attending the local RSS shakha and gradually became involved in Sangh work. I first met Dilipda during a visit to a swayamsevak’s home. Coincidentally, that same year, he had been appointed to our division. As everyone introduced themselves, Dilipda casually asked me in Marathi, “How are you finding Bengal?” Hearing...

From Pracharak to Minister: My Memories of Dilipda

Long before he became a minister, Dilipda had already earned our respect through his simplicity, discipline, and warmth. In 2007, my job brought me to Kolkata. Once there, I began attending the local RSS shakha and gradually became involved in Sangh work. I first met Dilipda during a visit to a swayamsevak’s home. Coincidentally, that same year, he had been appointed to our division. As everyone introduced themselves, Dilipda casually asked me in Marathi, “How are you finding Bengal?” Hearing a Bengali pracharak — a full-time RSS worker devoted to organisational work — speak fluent Marathi came as a pleasant surprise to me. From that moment onwards, my interactions with Dilipda increased, and I gradually began to understand the many dimensions of his seemingly simple personality. Coming from Maharashtra, where Sangh work generally faced non-violent opposition, adapting to Bengal — where the opposition was often violent — was not easy. In that atmosphere, I learnt from Dilipda how to remain enthusiastic while also keeping fellow workers motivated and active. I often accompanied Dilipda during his visits to our area. He had a remarkable ability to blend effortlessly into any household, warmly enquire about every family member, and make everyone feel as though he were one of their own. Before being appointed to Kolkata, Dilipda had served as an RSS pracharak in the remote Andaman Islands from around 1999–2000 until 2007. Based in Port Blair, he worked under difficult conditions despite limited travel and communication facilities, diverse tribes speaking different languages, and a local mindset that often kept outsiders at a distance. He would often share positive experiences from his years in the Andamans but never once spoke about the hardships he endured. Despite working in such difficult conditions, he never mentioned his personal discomforts. This ability to remain free of complaints despite adversity is a hallmark of a pracharak, and Dilipda embodied it completely. He possessed the rare gift of finding positivity even in challenging situations. Excellent Cook In Bengal during 2007, Sangh work had not yet expanded to the scale it has reached today. At times, pracharaks had to cook their own meals, and this had made Dilipda an excellent cook. Whenever he returned to the city from his travels, our group would eagerly gather to enjoy his khichdi. Our area, Bidhannagar, was located in Salt Lake, a relatively prosperous locality. Adjacent to it were a few underprivileged settlements, and we would occasionally visit the nearby market. To reach the market from Salt Lake, one had to cross a wooden bridge, where the toll was 25 paise for pedestrians and one rupee for bicycles. Observing the difficulties faced by people in those settlements, Dilipda once suggested starting some sewa (service) activity there. That eventually led to the establishment of a homoeopathic clinic in the locality. While setting up the clinic, Dilipda effortlessly guided us through every stage of planning — what arrangements were needed, how the process should be structured, and what challenges might arise. It felt as though the entire plan was already mapped out in his mind. As the clinic became operational, we began noticing the educational difficulties faced by the local children. English, science, and mathematics were particularly challenging subjects for them, which eventually led to the start of a study centre. The idea of involving engineers from Salt Lake’s IT companies also came from Dilipda. Later, by bringing together IT professionals, an “IT Milan” initiative was started, and many of them eventually became swayamsevaks actively involved in Sangh work. Remarkable Ability At the time, the CPM government was in power in Bengal, and there were many obstacles to conducting shakha activities. Dilipda constantly guided us on overcoming these challenges. He had a remarkable ability to identify work that could bring meaningful change, plan it carefully, and execute it with determination and effectiveness. Whether it was service activities, daily shakha work, or handling sensitive cases related to “Love Jihad", Dilipda consistently displayed dedication, clarity of thought, a fighting spirit, and an unwavering readiness to work tirelessly toward the objective. What amazes me even today is that a pracharak like Dilipda — someone far ahead of us in age, experience, and accomplishments — would interact so casually and warmly with ordinary swayamsevaks like us, placing a hand on our shoulders and speaking as though he were a close friend. In 2009, I was transferred back to Mumbai, bringing my Kolkata chapter to an end. Later, in 2014, I learned that Dilipda had been given responsibility in the BJP. And now, in 2026, the BJP forming a government on its own strength speaks volumes about its contribution and leadership. Today, Dilipda has become a minister, and many titles and honours will naturally be associated with him. But to us, he will always remain simply "Dilipda". (The writer is an entrepreneur based in Kalwa, Thane.)

Lingua Pragmatica

Updated: Mar 20, 2025

As Southern leaders like M.K. Stalin rage against Hindi, Andhra Pradesh’s Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu offers a model of pragmatism over parochialism.

Chandrababu Naidu
Andhra Pradesh

Amid the cacophony of opposition in southern states to Hindi, Andhra Pradesh CM N. Chandrababu Naidu has taken a markedly pragmatic stance by remarking recently in the state Assembly that there was no harm in learning other languages. Hindi, Naidu noted, was useful for communication across India, particularly in political and commercial hubs like Delhi. His remarks, though avoiding explicit mention of the NEP, were widely seen as an endorsement of multilingualism and a rebuke to the linguistic chauvinism that has gripped parts of the South.


Few issues in India stir political passions quite like language. It is not merely a means of communication but a marker of identity, a relic of colonial resistance, and a source of political mobilization. In the southern states, where anti-Hindi sentiment has long been entrenched, the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and its three-language formula have reignited old tensions. No state embodies this defiance more than Tamil Nadu, where the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) led by M.K. Stalin has framed the policy as an assault on its linguistic autonomy.


Naidu’s words, welcomed by his ally and Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan, mark a sharp contrast with the DMK’s position. Tamil Nadu’s hostility towards Hindi dates back to the 1930s, when C. Rajagopalachari’s attempt to introduce it in schools met with fierce resistance. The anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s cemented the DMK’s ideological stance, with its first Chief Minister, C.N. Annadurai, famously warning that Hindi imposition could push Tamil Nadu towards secession.


The question, however, is whether this rigid opposition serves Tamil Nadu’s interests. While Stalin, with an eye to the upcoming Tamil Nadu Assembly polls, has been relentlessly portraying Hindi as a threat to his state’s regional identity, Naidu, a partner of the BJP-led Centre, is framing it as a tool for economic mobility. His argument is not that Hindi should replace Telugu or English but that it offers a competitive advantage.


The economic case for multilingualism is compelling. Indians who speak multiple languages tend to have better job prospects, higher earnings and greater geographic mobility. Andhra Pradesh’s Telugu-speaking diaspora is a case in point. Telugus make up a significant proportion of Indian-origin professionals in the United States, the Gulf, and Southeast Asia as Naidu pointed out, hinting that this success story was built not on linguistic rigidity but on adaptability.


In a country where inter-state migration is rising and where Hindi remains the most widely spoken language, refusing to learn it amounts to self-imposed isolation. Tamil Nadu’s approach, by contrast, risks limiting its youth. The DMK government has refused to implement the three-language policy, keeping schools strictly bilingual with Tamil and English. Its justification that Hindi is not necessary for global success could be true in a narrow sense but ignores the domestic context. If Tamil filmmakers can dub their movies into Hindi to expand their audience, why should Tamil students be denied access to the language that could open more doors for them within India?


The DMK has accused successive central governments, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), of pushing Hindi at the expense of regional languages. Yet, rejecting Hindi outright is an overcorrection. The reality is that Hindi is an important language in India’s economic and political landscape. Naidu’s position, one of accommodation rather than confrontation, offers a middle ground that other Southern leaders would do well to consider.


Some states already recognize this. Karnataka, despite its own history of linguistic pride, has allowed Hindi to be taught as an optional language. Kerala, whose migrants work in Hindi-speaking regions and the Gulf, has been less hostile to Hindi education. Naidu’s model, balancing regional identity with practical necessity, offers a way forward. Languages should be embraced, not politicized. Southern leaders would do well to listen to him.

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