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By:

Quaid Najmi

4 January 2025 at 3:26:24 pm

Seventy-six mayors ruled BMC since 1931

After four years, Mumbai to salute its first citizen Kishori Pednekar Vishwanath Mahadeshwar Snehal Ambekar Sunil Prabhu Mumbai: As the date for appointing Mumbai’s First Citizen looms closer, various political parties have adopted tough posturing to foist their own person for the coveted post of Mayor – the ‘face’ of the country’s commercial capital. Ruling Mahayuti allies Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and Shiv Sena have vowed that the city...

Seventy-six mayors ruled BMC since 1931

After four years, Mumbai to salute its first citizen Kishori Pednekar Vishwanath Mahadeshwar Snehal Ambekar Sunil Prabhu Mumbai: As the date for appointing Mumbai’s First Citizen looms closer, various political parties have adopted tough posturing to foist their own person for the coveted post of Mayor – the ‘face’ of the country’s commercial capital. Ruling Mahayuti allies Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and Shiv Sena have vowed that the city will get a ‘Hindu Marathi’ person to head India’s richest civic body, while the Opposition Shiv Sena (UBT)-Maharashtra Navnirman Sena also harbour fond hopes of a miracle that could ensure their own person for the post. The Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA) optimism stems from expectations of possible political permutations-combinations that could develop with a realignment of forces as the Supreme Court is hearing the cases involving the Shiv Sena-Nationalist Congress Party this week. Catapulted as the largest single party, the BJP hopes to install a first ever party-man as Mayor, but that may not create history. Way back in 1982-1983, a BJP leader Dr. Prabhakar Pai had served in the top post in Mumbai (then Bombay). Incidentally, Dr. Pai hailed from Udupi district of Karnataka, and his appointment came barely a couple of years after the BJP was formed (1980), capping a distinguished career as a city father, said experts. Originally a Congressman, Dr. Pai later shifted to the Bharatiya Janata Party, then back to Congress briefly, founded the Janata Seva Sangh before immersing himself in social activities. Second Administrator The 2026 Mayoral elections have evoked huge interest not only among Mumbaikars but across the country as it comes after nearly four years since the BMC was governed by an Administrator. This was only the second time in the BMC history that an Administrator was named after April 1984-May 1985. On both occasions, there were election-related issues, the first time the elections got delayed for certain reasons and the second time the polling was put off owing to Ward delimitations and OBC quotas as the matter was pending in the courts. From 1931 till 2022, Mumbai has been lorded over by 76 Mayors, men and women, hailing from various regions, backgrounds, castes and communities. They included Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Parsis, Sikhs, even a Jew, etc., truly reflecting the cosmopolitan personality of the coastal city and India’s financial powerhouse. In 1931-1932, the Mayor was a Parsi, J. B. Boman Behram, and others from his community followed like Khurshed Framji Nariman (after whom Nariman Point is named), E. A. Bandukwala, Minoo Masani, B. N. Karanjia and other bigwigs. There were Muslims like Hoosenally Rahimtoola, Sultan M. Chinoy, the legendary Yusuf Meherally, Dr. A. U. Memon and others. The Christian community got a fair share of Mayors with Joseph A. D’Souza – who was Member of Constituent Assembly representing Bombay Province for writing-approving the Constitution of India, M. U. Mascarenhas, P. A. Dias, Simon C. Fernandes, J. Leon D’Souza, et al. A Jew Elijah Moses (1937-1938) and a Sikh M. H. Bedi (1983-1984), served as Mayors, but post-1985, for the past 40 years, nobody from any minority community occupied the august post. During the silver jubilee year of the post, Sulochana M. Modi became the first woman Mayor of Mumbai (1956), and later with tweaks in the rules, many women ruled in this post – Nirmala Samant-Prabhavalkar (1994-1995), Vishakha Raut (997-1998), Dr. Shubha Raul (March 2007-Nov. 2009), Shraddha Jadhav (Dec. 2009-March 2012), Snehal Ambedkar (Sep. 2014-March 2017). The last incumbent (before the Administrator) was a government nurse, Kishori Pednekar (Nov. 2019-March 2022) - who earned the sobriquet of ‘Florence Nightingale’ of Mumbai - as she flitted around in her full white uniform at the height of the Covid-19 Pandemic, earning the admiration of the citizens. Mumbai Mayor – high-profile post The Mumbai Mayor’s post is considered a crucial step in the political ladder and many went on to become MLAs, MPs, state-central ministers, a Lok Sabha Speaker, Chief Ministers and union ministers. The formidable S. K. Patil was Mayor (1949-1952) and later served in the union cabinets of PMs Jawaharlal Nehru, Lah Bahadur Shastri and Indira Gandhi; Dahyabhai V. Patel (1954-1955) was the son of India’s first Home Minister Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel; Manohar Joshi (1976-1977) became the CM of Maharashtra, later union minister and Speaker of Lok Sabha; Chhagan Bhujbal (1985-1986 – 1990-1991) became a Deputy CM.

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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