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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.)

The Drowned Frontier

Texas has always had a tempestuous relationship with water. The vast expanses of the Lone Star State, punishingly dry for much of the year, are periodically soaked by ferocious downpours, some of which reshape the land and rewrite the lives of those caught in their path. The recent floods that swept through central Texas killing more than 130 people were not merely a freak incident of weather, but rather the outcome of a complex and long-brewing confluence of geological legacy, climate patterns and modern settlement.


The immediate culprit was meteorological. As the remnants of Tropical Storm Barry drifted across the Gulf Coast, they collided with a mesoscale convective vortex (MCV) - a low-level swirling pocket of atmospheric instability - lingering over central Texas. The MCV acted like a celestial whisk, stirring the moist tropical air into slow-moving thunderstorms. What followed was a textbook case of flash flooding: intense rainfall concentrated over a small area in a short period, with nowhere for the water to go.


But the real story runs deeper - literally, into the Earth’s deep past. Texas lies at the southern edge of the North American plains, a region whose topography was shaped during the Pleistocene epoch, between 2.6 million and 11,700 years ago. Repeated glaciations in the north displaced climatic zones southward, subjecting Texas to wild oscillations between aridity and deluge. The Balcones Escarpment, which separates the Hill Country from the Gulf Coastal Plain, was forged in this turbulent era. It now marks a deadly transition zone where dry highland meets moisture-laden air from the Gulf, making it particularly prone to flash floods. That part of the state is colloquially known as ‘Flash Flood Alley’, though the name has no strict scientific definition, its danger is real.


Flash floods, unlike slow-rising river floods, occur with little warning. Their lethality stems from both natural hydrology and human development. In the past, water would have been absorbed by prairie grasslands or meandered through seasonal creeks. But as Texas has urbanised, the land has been blanketed in concrete, diverting runoff into narrow storm drains and swollen creeks. In effect, sprawl has mechanised the flow of water, making floods faster and more violent.


Climate change, too, plays its part. One of the telltale signatures of a warming planet is that the atmosphere becomes thirstier. That means tropical systems such as Barry are becoming wetter and more energetic. According to recent studies, the intensity of rainfall from such systems in the southern United States has increased markedly over the past few decades. Climate models suggest that extreme precipitation events are likely to become both more common and more intense in the years ahead.


Yet it would be misleading to blame climate change alone. Drought had preceded the flood in central Texas. Ironically, dry soil is less absorbent, exacerbating runoff. And deeper still lie socioeconomic factors. Poorer communities often inhabit the most flood-prone areas. They are also less likely to receive effective warnings, or to have the means to evacuate swiftly.


Despite the increasing frequency of such disasters, public policy remains stubbornly reactive. Flash floods are difficult to forecast and even harder to manage. Early-warning systems exist, but they are unevenly deployed and poorly understood by the public.


John McPhee, in The Control of Nature (1989), chronicled the ways in which engineers have tried, and often failed, to keep rivers in their lanes and lava flows at bay. In Texas, as in Louisiana, efforts to impose order on chaotic natural systems have brought only temporary reprieve.


Floods are not new. But the magnitude of loss, in a land historically adapted to dry and wet extremes alike, is a warning. The only question is whether Texans will be better prepared the next time.

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