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By:

Minal Sancheti

2 May 2026 at 12:26:53 pm

Funeral for animals

Mumbai: On the occasion of National Animal Rights Day, a funeral was held for all the voiceless creatures that humans have killed for selfish reasons. The act was a campaign and was a brainchild of Animal Climate and Health in collaboration with Our Planet Theirs Too. The purpose was to spread awareness about animal cruelty. The campaign took place at Carter Road Amphitheatre and so a crowd of both young and old supported the cause. Speaking about animal cruelty, recently the internet was...

Funeral for animals

Mumbai: On the occasion of National Animal Rights Day, a funeral was held for all the voiceless creatures that humans have killed for selfish reasons. The act was a campaign and was a brainchild of Animal Climate and Health in collaboration with Our Planet Theirs Too. The purpose was to spread awareness about animal cruelty. The campaign took place at Carter Road Amphitheatre and so a crowd of both young and old supported the cause. Speaking about animal cruelty, recently the internet was flooded with a viral video of a group of men at Mira Road taking a piglet to a locality where goats were brought for religious sacrifice. Aparjita Ashish, the founder and director of Animal Climate and Health said, “It is an act of cruelty to kill animals for religious sacrifice but to protest against this they were harassing a baby pig. The poor pig was screaming for his life. So how’s that right? If you want to protest, protest peacefully.” Ashish also comments on the Apex Judiciary’s decision of euthanising terminally ill dogs, “If the dog has a serious illness like rabies and is in a lot of pain, with a doctor’s permission and in a peaceful manner, they should be euthanised. The apex court also spoke about the ABC or animal birth control which if done with correct procedures, can help bring down issues related to the stray dogs. Many times the process is wrong so the animals become subject to cruelty.” She even added that the strays should not be displaced as that will leave them confused. This is also an act of ill treatment. The occasion saw a large number of gatherers. According to the campaigners, being vegan is not just for protecting animals but also for the climate. Ashish explained, “If you see the name of our NGO, it is Animal Climate and Health. So we also talk about the impact of consuming animal products on the environment.” She gives an example of how methane gas is produced because of the dairy animals and how the food and resources to breed animals are so much that it affects the environment. The supporters who participated in the campaign said they also noticed many health benefits of going vegan. Anil Nagpal, a senior citizen and volunteer with the organisation said, “For many years I was going through ill health. I tried every treatment but nothing really helped much. But then someone convinced me to go vegan and since that time my health has improved drastically. After this many people in my circles who used to eat animal products have given up.” When asked what his protein sources are, he said, “I eat lentils and legumes. Vegetables also contain protein.” Ashish claimed that humans have an ego that makes them think they are above animals.

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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