top of page

By:

Abhijit Mulye

21 August 2024 at 11:29:11 am

Congress ditched us first: Sunil Tatkare

Mumbai: In a significant escalation of the ongoing friction within Maharashtra’s political landscape, Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) state unit chief Sunil Tatkare has squarely blamed the Congress party for the disintegration of the Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA) alliance. In a candid interview with a Marathi television news channel, Tatkare asserted that the Congress was the first to "ditch" its partners, a move he claims fundamentally broke the trust required to sustain the coalition and...

Congress ditched us first: Sunil Tatkare

Mumbai: In a significant escalation of the ongoing friction within Maharashtra’s political landscape, Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) state unit chief Sunil Tatkare has squarely blamed the Congress party for the disintegration of the Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA) alliance. In a candid interview with a Marathi television news channel, Tatkare asserted that the Congress was the first to "ditch" its partners, a move he claims fundamentally broke the trust required to sustain the coalition and forced the NCP to reconsider its political future. Tatkare’s revelations come at a fragile moment for the NCP, which is still reeling from the sudden accidental death of Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar in late January 2026. The tragedy has sparked intense speculation about a potential "Ghar Wapsi" or reunion between the rival NCP factions. However, Tatkare has emerged as a lightning rod for criticism from the Sharad Pawar-led NCP (NCP-SP), with leaders like Shashikant Shinde and Rohit Pawar accusing him of being a "blockade" acting at the behest of the BJP to prevent the party from coming back together. Addressing these allegations, Tatkare defended the party’s decision to remain aligned with the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) under the Mahayuti banner. “The BJP and the top leadership of NDA have given us a trust and the clarity that they would take us along ahead. We have even worked as part of the UPA earlier. I was the state president of the party even back then. We have closely experienced – and even suffered - the ill treatment mated to the allies there. We have also observed the BJP’s conduct since 2014,” Tatkare said while explain what went behind his party’s decision to go along with the BJP. While elaborating on the specific incidents that led to the beginning of the end, Tatkare gave a specific anecdote from the seat sharing talks with the Congress. “I was the state party chief and we were in seat sharing talks with Prithviraj Chavan representing the Congress. We wanted some seats exchanged. We were asked to furnish the list. Despite my suspicion and hence opposition, we shared the list. My nightmares came true. The Congress declared their candidates on all the seats. That was the first fissure within the MVA,” Tatkare said. He noted that unlike their experience with the Congress, the BJP has consistently followed "alliance conduct" and treated its partners with cordiality. He dismissed the reunification rumours as baseless, emphasising that the party is committed to carrying forward the ideology and political stand established by the late Ajit Pawar.

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.

Comments

bottom of page