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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.)

Raja Shivaji sparks a new era for Marathi cinema

Mumbai: As Raja Shivaji marches steadily towards the Rs 100 crore mark, the film has reignited debate around the future of the Marathi film industry. Having already crossed Rs 80 crore at the Indian box office, the historical drama is now only the second Marathi film after Sairat to achieve the milestone. Its success has raised a larger question within the trade: can a major blockbuster finally attract sustained investment into Marathi cinema, an industry often marked by cycles of growth and slowdown?


Much of the buzz surrounding the film stems from the support it received from prominent Hindi film stars, several of whom reportedly came on board to back the project and the industry.


Trade analyst Girish Wankhede believes the film’s biggest achievement lies in the scale of collaboration it represents.


“The real strength of Raja Shivaji lies in its creative ensemble star cast, which Riteish Deshmukh successfully brought together. By roping in heavyweight Hindi stars like Abhishek Bachchan, Sanjay Dutt, and Salman Khan, the film showcases the immense combined value of cross-industry collaboration. This strong gesture of Hindi cinema’s biggest names extending full support to a Marathi project has created a powerful impression, generating tremendous curiosity and respect for Marathi cinema among audiences, investors, and other industries. It underscores how Marathi films can now command pan-Indian attention and star power,” he says.


At the same time, Wankhede feels it may still be premature to call the film a runaway commercial success given its production scale and costs.


“What is heartening is the visible new energy and creative fuel that Riteish Deshmukh has infused into Marathi cinema. With him at the helm of affairs, the film looks strong and polished, and this momentum, further amplified by the star support, is already drawing serious attention from investors who were earlier hesitant about the regional space,” he adds.


Producer Suniel Wadhwa, Co-Founder and Director of Karmic Films, says the film’s performance could play an important role in rebuilding investor confidence in theatrical cinema.


“The success of Raja Shivaji could significantly improve investor confidence in theatrical cinema, especially at a time when many non-film investors have become cautious about the sector. If the film succeeds as a large-scale theatrical event rather than just an opening weekend phenomenon, it will reinforce the belief that culturally rooted Indian stories still possess massive commercial potential across regions and demographics,” he says.


However, Wadhwa points out that the industry continues to face deep structural challenges.


“One of the biggest is the shortage of true theatrical stars who can create urgency for audiences to step into cinemas. Streaming has created visibility, but not necessarily ticket-selling mythology. At the same time, India remains heavily under-screened, and even strong films often struggle with inadequate show slots, limited showcasing windows, and overcrowded release calendars. Many films today are judged within the first 48–72 hours, leaving little room for organic word-of-mouth growth,” he says.


According to him, the theatrical business is evolving rather than disappearing.


“Audiences are now reserving cinema outings for event-driven experiences — spectacle, emotion, mythology, action, horror-comedy, and culturally resonant storytelling. Films that can create that collective viewing urgency will continue to attract both audiences and serious investment capital,” he adds.


The Marathi film industry has witnessed a mixed year so far. More than two dozen films have released, but only a handful — including Raja Shivaji, Kranti Vidyalay Marathi Madhyam, Aga Aga Sunbai Mahnatay Sasubai, and Super Duper — have performed strongly at the box office.


Veteran journalist Dilip Thakur believes Marathi cinema has already begun regaining momentum after the slowdown caused by the pandemic.


“New Marathi films are getting launched regularly. The upcoming film Bapya had its screening at Sunny Super Sound, which was attended by non-Marathi journalists in big numbers. The story of Bapya is complex and difficult to make. The point here is that a producer agreed to put his money into the film. Sabar Bonda was another difficult subject which won an award at Sundance. So, producers willing to invest money in such subjects is one positive sign,” he says.


Thakur also points to the continued appetite for mainstream Marathi entertainers.


“The boom after Sairat still exists in Marathi cinema. There was a setback for four years because of Covid, but the industry has gained momentum. Ravi Jadhav’s new film Fulawara, based on tamasha folk art, will soon go on floors in Pune,” he says.


He further notes that Marathi cinema is increasingly attracting investors from outside the industry.


“Most Marathi films have non-Marathi investors. They are putting in money because there is business in Marathi cinema. But not every film becomes a hit. Subhash Ghai also produced a few Marathi films. If the subject is good, people are willing to invest,” he adds.


Not everyone, however, is convinced that one major hit can alter the industry’s fortunes overnight.


Nitin Datar, president of the Cinema Owners Association, remains cautious about reading too much into the film’s success.


“Only one film success is not going to bring investors. In the last five years, out of nearly 500 films produced, the success rate has not been encouraging,” he says.


Datar acknowledges that the presence of Hindi stars has helped boost the film’s commercial appeal but stresses that Marathi cinema still lacks enough bankable stars capable of consistently drawing audiences to theatres.


“The production houses and directors have attracted audiences. Unfortunately, producers haven’t been successful in attracting financial assistance, which has resulted in low production and advertising budgets. But if films succeed in pulling audiences over the weekend, exhibitors automatically increase shows and reduce screenings of underperforming films from other languages. The audience is always there, waiting to visit theatres in large numbers for a good film,” he says.


For now, Raja Shivaji has undeniably given Marathi cinema a strong moment in the spotlight. Whether that momentum translates into long-term financial confidence and sustained industry growth remains the larger question.

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