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By:

Quaid Najmi

4 January 2025 at 3:26:24 pm

‘Tiger’ shrinks to an ‘alley cat’

The Shiv Sena founded by the late Balasaheb Keshav Thackeray in 1966 may have little reason to celebrate its Diamond Jubilee tomorrow – in his birth centenary year. For the second time in four years today, the party – now, Shiv Sena (UBT) - has suffered a potential split, ironically led by Eknath Shinde who first broke away on June 21, 2022. Political soothsayers aver that this time the bodily harm is serious and the wound goes deep, so the party - which espoused the cause of the ordinary...

‘Tiger’ shrinks to an ‘alley cat’

The Shiv Sena founded by the late Balasaheb Keshav Thackeray in 1966 may have little reason to celebrate its Diamond Jubilee tomorrow – in his birth centenary year. For the second time in four years today, the party – now, Shiv Sena (UBT) - has suffered a potential split, ironically led by Eknath Shinde who first broke away on June 21, 2022. Political soothsayers aver that this time the bodily harm is serious and the wound goes deep, so the party - which espoused the cause of the ordinary Marathi manoos and the lofty Hindutva - may not survive another hit in future. In the past 60-years of its high-profile existence - in power for around17-and-half years and the rest in the limelight – the party has had its share of rebellions and splits, but it managed to bounce back due to the sheer awe of the Thackeray surname. It all started 35 years ago with the doughty Chhagan Bhujbal who dared to bare the Shiv Sena’s shortcomings and quit in Dec. 1991 – stunning the party that ran on the signals or just a wave of Balasaheb’s hand. His abrupt exit along with 18 MLAs after a tiff with his mentor. Though many MLAs returned as Balasaheb roared his disapproval, Bhujbal seemed to politically flourish and made it to the post of Deputy CM, and later as Minister for many years. After deserting Balasaheb, Bhujbal had joined the Congress, then led by Sharad Pawar who later broke off to form the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) in 1999 where Bhujbal followed him. However, in July 2023, when the late Ajit Pawar split the party founded by his uncle, Bhujbal went with him, dumping his original Guru, Sharad Pawar, now left with the NCP (SP). Come 2005, there was another huge blow when ex-Chief Minister and the then Leader of Opposition in Assembly Narayan Rane was expelled by Balasaheb following (Rane’s) differences with Uddhav Thackeray, then the party’s Executive President. Rane hopped over to the Congress on the assurance of getting the CM’s gaddi, but it never came, so he quit the party to form his own outfit, which he merged with the Bharatiya Janata Party and became a union minister. In November 2005, Balasaheb’s nephew Raj Thackeray resigned from the party after multiple tiffs with his cousin, Uddhav, and four months later, founded the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), which has yet to taste power. For nearly two decades, the warring cousins were practically at each other’s political throats, but in mid-2025, they finally hugged, kissed and made up for the larger cause of Marathi language, the Marathi Manoos, and other common points. When Uddhav broke ranks with the BJP to become the Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA) Chief Minister, he got a rudest jolt of his life when Eknath Shinde masterminded a rebellion, took away 40 MLAs and toppled him from the ‘gaddi’. Shinde allied with the BJP to become the CM of the Maha Yuti government for almost two-and-half years. However, after the Nov. 2024 elections, the BJP made him the Deputy CM, and later Ajit Pawar joined as the second Deputy CM in July 2023. When the MVA of SS (UBT), Congress and NCP (SP) notched a spectacular performance in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections getting 31 of the 48 seats they contested, all eyes were on its MPs, but later the Maha Yuti romped home in the November 2024 Assembly elections. After long planning and strategizing, Shinde allegedly launched the Operation Tiger and is one the verge of weaning away 6 out of 9 SS (UBT) Lok Sabha MPs – a second vertical split the Uddhav-led party suffered in four years. Over the past three decades, there were other ‘ayarams’ and ‘gayarams’ including the aggressive Sanjay Nirupam, who quit the (undivided) Shiv Sena, joined the Congress and is currently with Shinde’s party.

The Soul of Bharat on the Big Screen

Mumbai: April 4, 2025, my heart feels heavier than it ever has. The news hit me like a monsoon storm—Manoj Kumar, the towering legend of Bollywood, the man who painted patriotism across our screens, is no more. At 87, he slipped away at Mumbai’s Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital, leaving behind a reel of memories that flicker in my mind like a projector that won’t stop spinning. As a movie fan who grew up with his films, I’m not just mourning an actor—I’m grieving the loss of a piece of my soul, a piece of India itself. They called him "Bharat Kumar," and oh, how he earned that name.


I remember the first time I saw ‘Upkar’ (1967). I was a kid, sprawled on the living room floor, eyes glued to our old TV. Manoj ji played Bharat, the farmer who gave everything—his dreams, his love—for his country’s soil. That song, “Mere Desh Ki Dharti,” wasn’t just a tune; it was a heartbeat, pulsing with pride and sacrifice. I’d hum it walking to school, feeling like I, too, could be that noble, that selfless. He won a National Film Award for that one, and rightly so—it wasn’t acting; it was living.

Then there was ‘Shaheed’ (1965), where he brought Bhagat Singh back to life. I’d sit there, popcorn forgotten, as he roared defiance against the British, his eyes blazing with a fire that could’ve lit up the darkest colonial night. It wasn’t just a film—it was a revolution on celluloid, a call to remember the blood that bought our freedom. Manoj ji didn’t just play the martyr; he became him, and every time I watch it, I feel that lump in my throat, that sting in my eyes. It’s no wonder it snagged three National Awards—his passion was a gift to us all.


Oh, and ‘Purab Aur Paschim’ (1970)—how do I even begin? He directed and starred as Bharat again, this time wrestling with the clash of East and West, showing us the beauty of our roots while the world tried to pull us away. I’d laugh at Saira Banu’s antics, then choke up when Manoj ji stood tall, singing “Hai Preet Jahan Ki Reet Sada.” It was a blockbuster, sure, but it was more—it was a love letter to India, penned in his signature hand-over-face style. That move, mocked by some, was his shield, his quiet strength, and I adored it.

And who could forget ‘Roti Kapda Aur Makaan’ (1974)? He directed and starred as Bharat—again, because who else could?—tackling poverty, injustice, and the gut-wrenching struggle for the basics of life. I’d watch, fists clenched, as he fought for the everyman, his voice cracking with raw emotion. It wasn’t just a movie; it was a mirror to our society, a cry for change. Seven Filmfare Awards across his career, they say, but this one felt like it carried them all—his heart bled through every frame.


Then there’s ‘Kranti’ (1981), the epic that had me on the edge of my seat. Manoj ji as the freedom fighter, leading Dilip Kumar and Hema Malini through a storm of rebellion—it was grand, it was gritty, it was everything Bollywood could be. “Zindagi Ki Na Toote Ladi” still echoes in my ears, a reminder of the battles he fought on screen, battles that felt so real I’d dream of joining the fight. He didn’t just direct that film; he sculpted a monument to resilience, and I’d cheer like a fool every time he outsmarted the British.


As I sit here, flipping through these memories, I can’t help but feel cheated. Manoj Kumar wasn’t just an actor or director—he was family. Born Harikrishan Goswami in 1937, he carried the Partition’s scars from Abbottabad to Delhi, turning pain into purpose. He gave us over 50 films in a career spanning four decades, snagging the Padma Shri in 1992 and the Dadasaheb Phalke Award in 2015—honors that felt too small for a man who gave India its cinematic soul. His last role in ‘Jai Hind’ (1999) might’ve flopped, but it didn’t dim his light in my eyes.


I’d read how he met Bhagat Singh’s mother before ‘Shaheed’, seeking her blessing—can you imagine the weight of that? Or how PM Lal Bahadur Shastri urged him to make ‘Upkar’ after the 1965 war, handing him “Jai Jawan Jai Kisan” like a sacred torch? That’s who he was—a man who didn’t just entertain but carried a nation’s dreams.


Manoj ji, you weren’t just “Bharat Kumar” to me—you were the uncle who taught me pride, the friend who shared my anger, the poet who sang my hopes. Your films weren’t movies; they were my childhood, my rebellion, my tears. I’ll miss you like I miss the India you dreamed of—flawed, fierce, and forever ours. Rest in peace, sir. Om Shanti.

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