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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 10:09:24 am

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In...

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In recent days, she has been drawn into an avoidable political controversy after the Maharashtra Congress dubbed her as “Gungi Gudiya” (“mute doll”) following a media interaction in which she chose not to answer journalists' questions. The remark quickly snowballed into a wider debate about the language used against women occupying high constitutional office. It also revived memories of the same epithet once directed at late Congress Prime Minister Indira Gandhi before she went on to become one of India’s most formidable political figures. Until recently, Sunetra Pawar remained largely outside the glare of frontline politics. She was better known in Baramati for her work in education, healthcare and social welfare than for fiery speeches or electoral campaigns. Her public image was that of a composed, private individual who preferred institution-building to political theatre. Political Limelight That changed in 2024 when she entered electoral politics, contesting the Lok Sabha election from Baramati against her sister-in-law, Supriya Sule. Though unsuccessful, she later entered Parliament through the Rajya Sabha, where she quietly focused on organisational responsibilities and social initiatives rather than cultivating a high-profile parliamentary persona. The defining moment came in January this year with the tragic death of her husband, Ajit Pawar, one of the state’s most experienced and influential political leaders. His passing created a political vacuum within the Nationalist Congress Party. At a moment of uncertainty, Sunetra Pawar stepped forward to shoulder responsibilities that few had imagined she would inherit so soon. Within days, she became Maharashtra’s first woman Deputy Chief Minister - a milestone in the state’s political history. But such transitions are rarely straightforward. Political parties often struggle when towering personalities disappear, and observers had predicted that the NCP might witness internal divisions. Maintaining organisational cohesion during a leadership transition is itself a considerable achievement, particularly in a state where political loyalties are often fluid and intensely personalised. However, much of the public conversation around Sunetra Pawar continues to be framed through comparisons with Ajit Pawar. The contrast is obvious. Ajit Pawar was known for his decisiveness, administrative grip and unmistakable public presence. Sunetra Pawar, by contrast, has generally remained soft-spoken, measured and reluctant to engage in unnecessary confrontation. Her supporters see restraint, dignity and maturity but critics see hesitation and insufficient public engagement. Neither assessment is entirely unfair. That is why the recent Beed incident acquired significance beyond a routine press interaction. When reporters sought her comments on law and order and she chose to leave without responding, the political vacuum was quickly filled by her opponents. The Congress’s “Gungi Gudiya” remark predictably provoked protests from the NCP and criticism from leaders across the ruling alliance, many of whom argued that such language diminished the dignity of a woman holding one of the state’s highest offices. Sunetra Pawar’s own response was notably restrained. She said she would offer a “fitting reply at the appropriate time.” The remark was consistent with the temperament she has displayed since entering public life. Leadership is ultimately judged not only by composure but also by visibility. Every major political figure eventually reaches a point where inherited legitimacy must give way to earned authority. Indira Gandhi had to step beyond Jawaharlal Nehru's towering legacy before she was recognised in her own right. Rajiv Gandhi, too, had to emerge from the shadow of Indira Gandhi while navigating extraordinary political circumstances. Their journeys were shaped by vastly different contexts, but they illustrate a universal truth: every successor must eventually become an original. Sunetra Pawar now confronts a similar, though far more modest, challenge. She must cease to be viewed primarily as “Ajit Pawar's wife” and come into her own. Distinct Identity That transformation cannot be achieved through symbolism alone. After all, lasting political stature is built through decisions, administrative outcomes and public confidence. To her credit, she has remained engaged with governance, regularly attending official programmes, reviewing development projects and interacting with citizens instead of chasing daily headlines. Yet the next stage of leadership demands something more. She will need to engage more confidently with the media, articulate her government's priorities in her own voice, and establish an administrative record that reflects independent judgement rather than inherited expectations. These are demanding tasks, but they are neither unusual nor unattainable. It is still too soon to measure Sunetra Pawar’s political legacy. She assumed responsibility at a moment when both her party and the state were adjusting to an unexpected transition, and has so far navigated that passage with composure. Yet political inheritance has a limited shelf life. While quietness, in itself, is neither a virtue nor a weakness, it acquires meaning only when it is accompanied by clarity and conviction. If Sunetra Pawar is to leave an enduring imprint on Maharashtra's politics, it will not be by echoing the style of Ajit Pawar or by answering every taunt from her opponents. It will be by developing a public voice that reflects her own instincts, her own priorities and, ultimately, her own leadership. (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

Mr. Bharat’s brushes with two superstars

Mumbai: Years ago, the veteran south Indian and Bollywood director A. Bhimsingh was working on the gloomy love-triangle, ‘Aadmi’ (1968) starring the then reigning emperor of acting, Dilip Kumar, along with Waheeda Rehman and others.


During the early filming, Bhimsingh and the other hero of the film, the late Feroze Khan, had some huge differences and couldn’t see eye-to-eye on many things.


The enraged Bhimsingh narrated everything to Dilip Kumar and it was finally decided to drop Khan, recalled veteran Bollywood producer K. Ramji of Tina Films International (TFI).


“Dilip Kumar also called up his close friend and film-maker, my father, A. Krishnamurthi, and requested him to see if Rajendra Kumar or Manoj Kumar could be convinced to play the crucial role, replacing Khan,” Ramji told The Perfect Voice.

Though Rajendra Kumar politely declined, Manoj Kumar jumped with joy at the honour of working with his cherished idol Dilip Kumar that simply landed in his lap, chuckled Ramji.


At one point when Bhimsingh fell ill, Manoj Kumar even volunteered to direct a portion of the film, to ensure completing it on schedule and it turned out to be a blockbuster.


A couple of years later, Dilip Kumar returned the favour by convincing his wife, the dazzling Saira Banu to work in a glam role for Manoj Kumar’s patriotic superhit ‘Purab Aur Paschim’ (1970).


Manoj Kumarhad crafted his own style, mannerisms, and even a hairstyle that was displayed in almost all barber shops of that era for youngsters to emulate.

Decades later, legendary choreographer-cum-director Farah Khan came up with her smash-hit film, ‘Om Shanti Om’ (2007), considered a heart-felt eulogy to the whims and vagaries of Bollywood.


In one scene, the film took an uncharitable swipe at Manoj Kumar, rattling him enough to file a Rs. 100-crore defamation suit (which he later gracefully withdrew).


The scene in ‘Om Shanti Om’ poked fun at Manoj Kumar’s famed mannerism – covering his face with his palm to express shyness, disappointment, happiness or sadness.


The struggler Om Prakash (played by Shah Rukh Khan) unabashedly lampooned the senior actor by flaunting his identity-card to a cop, with his photo showing the face covered by his hand - a la Manoj Kumar - leading to howls of laughter in cinema halls.


As film critics then noted, Manoj Kumar’s iconic ‘style’ cultivated over decades, was ripped to a farce in just one momentary scene in the film and he expressed his deep distress by saying, “This is how they treat me”.


However, later, like many Bollywood films the ugly brawl had a happy ending with a round of apologies from Farah Khan and Shah Rukh Khan, while Manoj Kumar earned widespread applause in film circles for graciously burying the hatchet.

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