At least an hour before Baramati, the air started to feel heavy.
It was 2 pm. The usually bustling Pune-Solapur highway, lined with shops and eateries, was desolate. And silent. At Urulikanchan, however, a massive black-and-white billboard bearing the photograph of Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar spoke volumes — about the devastating crash that stunned the nation on Wednesday morning and plunged Baramati, land of the Pawars, into deep gloom.
As you turned off the highway towards Baramati, and passed nearly 35 km of wide, freshly painted roads, rarely seen even in major cities and divided by rows of pink bougainvillea, you reached what was virtually a ghost town.
The toll gate was open but unmanned. Every establishment was shut, the roads were empty and every vehicle seemed to be going in one direction: the Vidya Pratishthan college grounds, to pay their last respects to the mortal remains of Ajit Pawar.
At the site in Baramati where the Learjet 45 crashed, killing Maharashtra Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar and four others on Wednesday. (Express photo by Arul Horizon)
The entire town had moved there, in hundreds of thousands, to bid farewell to “Ajit dada”, the brother, the leader, the upstart, the rebel, the son of the soil.
The sprawling grounds seemed too small. In the middle, large cement blocks were arranged by JCB machines to prepare a funeral platform for Thursday. Ahead, on the stage, two white awnings awaited a large portrait of the leader, as flowers and garlands started to arrive.
Amidst tears that flowed, former Pimpri Chinchwad mayor Mangala Kadam said, “It’s over, it’s finished, what is left? He was my leader, my mentor. I worked with him from 1992 until now. But now, nothing is left for Maharashtra.”
Ajit Pawar with his PSO Vidip Jadhav on the flight
Nileema Gujar, the secretary of Vidya Pratishthan, recalled her last meeting with Ajit Pawar in December during the visit of industrialist Gautam Adani to inaugurate an Artificial Intelligence laboratory at the college. “He was someone who led from the front,” she said.
Rupali Chakankar, chairperson of Maharashtra State Womens’ Commission, stood silent, like a rock, as the crowd waited for the casket. Others on stage broke down, most too distraught to even talk.
Amit Dhalpe, a bank employee, said, “Baramati has been orphaned… We used to go around Maharashtra with pride saying we are Baramatikars, that is all finished now. Initially, we thought Dada must have been injured and went to the hospital, where we learnt the truth… we have not even had any food since morning.”
Every hour that went by, the crowds swelled, the barricades were tested, and police resorted to appeals on loudspeakers, imploring for patience with lines like, “Dada would not have liked this indiscipline.” Pawar’s son Parth, anguish writ large on his face, oversaw the arrangements and accepted condolences from everyone on the stage.
NCP-SCP MP Supriya Sule, NCP Rajya Sabha MP Sunetra Pawar and others arrive at Punyashlok Ahilyadevi Holkar Government Medical College, where the mortal remains of Maharashtra Deputy CM Ajit Pawar, who lost his life in a charter plane crash landing, are kept, in Baramati on Wednesday. (ANI Video Grab)
By dusk, other members of the Pawar family started to walk in. Cousin Supriya Sule led Ajit Pawar’s wife Sunetra Pawar, who walked with folded hands, onto the stage, now full with VIPs. Outside, a band struck up a solemn note. Flashlights came on. A few kilometres away, a hearse carrying Ajit Pawar’s body made its way from the hospital through the well-lit streets of Baramati, to be placed at the college grounds until 9.30 pm. The air echoed with cries of “Ajit Pawar amar rahein”.
It was well past 7.30 pm when the mortal remains were placed on stage. NCP workers lined up to pay their respects. Many of them had images of the party symbol, the clock, on their shirts. And yet, time stood still at Baramati.
Curated by Aisha Patel
