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By:

Abhijit Mulye

21 August 2024 at 11:29:11 am

Multi-Crore ‘Land Jihad’ unearthed

Lawyer reclaims grabbed properties, exposes administrative lapses Advocate Sanjeev Deshpande Mumbai: In Bhusaval, a glaring example of what is being termed ‘Land Jihad’ has recently been brought to light, exposing a systematic grab of prime real estate worth hundreds of crores. At the center of this revelation is a hard-fought legal victory that successfully vacated ill-intentioned occupants from a plush property, prompting urgent calls for the administration to remain vigilant against...

Multi-Crore ‘Land Jihad’ unearthed

Lawyer reclaims grabbed properties, exposes administrative lapses Advocate Sanjeev Deshpande Mumbai: In Bhusaval, a glaring example of what is being termed ‘Land Jihad’ has recently been brought to light, exposing a systematic grab of prime real estate worth hundreds of crores. At the center of this revelation is a hard-fought legal victory that successfully vacated ill-intentioned occupants from a plush property, prompting urgent calls for the administration to remain vigilant against fraudulent land acquisitions. The catalyst for uncovering this massive scam was a protracted legal battle fought by the Central Cine Circuit Association (CCCA), an organisation comprising over 800 film distributors across Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, and Rajasthan. Seeking a headquarters and guest house for their traveling members, the CCCA purchased a sprawling 5,000-square-foot bungalow in a prime locality in Bhusaval from a senior Parsi individual residing in Mumbai. Although the sale deed was executed in 1993, the notice of ownership change inexplicably failed to reach or was ignored by the local city survey office. This administrative blind spot lay dormant until 2024, when the family of one Afzal Kalu Gawali forcibly entered the premises and took illegal possession of the property. Physical Muscle Lacking the physical muscle to evict the encroachers, the CCCA was forced into an agonising two-year legal marathon spearheaded by Advocate Sanjeev Deshpande. The fight demanded navigating a labyrinth of government offices, from the Sub-Divisional Magistrate (SDM) and Bhusaval Sessions Court to the revenue tribunal, the High Court, and even Mantralaya. The process involved digging through decades-old records, exposing forged documents, and pleading with officials to rectify the injustice. The persistence finally paid off when the SDM ruled in favor of the CCCA on April 9, 2026. When the illegal occupants still refused to leave, police intervention was secured to forcibly vacate the premises, allowing CCCA employees to finally re-enter their headquarters on April 16 after a gap of nearly two years, said Sanjay Surana, president of CCCA. Fight Continues For Deshpande, the fight is far from over. During his exhaustive hunt for documents, he uncovered a deeply disturbing and systematic pattern of land grabbing operating in the region. The conmen utilised a calculated modus operandi. They tactfully acquired a power of attorney from the descendants of the original Parsi owners and forged purchase documents. Shockingly, the paperwork claimed that the CCCA bungalow, currently valued at around Rs 5 crore, was purchased by daily wage earners for a mere Rs 6 lakh. Deshpande discovered that this same syndicate had successfully encroached upon other highly valuable plots, including a six-acre cemetery (Aramgah) belonging to the Parsi Anjuman Fund and a significant parcel of land owned by the Masonic Lodge, an international religious institute. In total, the collective value of these illegally grabbed properties is estimated to easily surpass Rs 300 crore. The Masonic Lodge property is back to rightful owners after a battle at the High Court. But, for the Aramgah property, still much needs to be done, he said. This staggering real estate heist points to a severe breakdown in administrative oversight. Deshpande strongly emphasises that if the office of the Sub-Registrar at Bhusaval had conducted even a preliminary inquiry or verified the glaringly disproportionate financial details of these transactions, the fraudulent nature of the sales would have been immediately apparent.

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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