It is almost 7pm and the sun has set over Nashik. The venue for ‘Aditya Samvad’ is jam-packed with more than 5,000 youth from across the district. A band is playing, mostly Hindi film songs. It fails to hold the interest of the crowd, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Aditya Thackeray, chief of Yuva Sena. The stage arrangement is interesting—it is shaped like a plus sign, with the audience sitting on all sides except at the back, so that Aditya can move around freely while interacting with them. When Aditya’s arrival is announced, there is a huge round of applause followed by typical Shiv Sena-like slogans—Kon aala re, kon aala, Shiv Senecha wagh aala (Who has arrived? Shiv Sena’s tiger has arrived). Clad in a casual shirt and cotton trousers, Aditya, elder son of Shiv Sena chief Uddhav Thackeray, launches himself on to the stage like a rock star. “Kase ahat sagle (How are you all)?” he asks.
Aditya Samvad is an interesting format of interaction developed by Aditya’s team this election season. There are no lengthy speeches, just a question and answer session with the youth. Youngsters have to register at the time of entry and are asked to write their name and contact number on slips of paper. These slips are collected in a glass bowl and placed before Aditya, who picks one out and calls out the name; that person gets to ask him a question.
The very first question comes from one Nilesh Rane. “Oh my God!” says Aditya, as the audience bursts into laughter. The youth shares his name with former chief minister Narayan Rane’s son Nilesh, who is contesting the Lok Sabha elections from Ratnagiri-Sindhudurg on a Congress ticket. Rane Sr was with the Shiv Sena before joining the Congress; he has now founded the Maharashtra Swabhiman Party. The youth asks Aditya about development of sports facilities in rural areas, and he gives a detailed answer. A couple of questions later comes the most interesting query: what was the need to ally with the BJP once again, especially after the public spats? Aditya does not avoid the question; he welcomes it. “We joined hands because our fight was issue-based and ideological,” he explains. The BJP government, he says, agreed to every issue the Shiv Sena had raised, from shifting the oil refinery project out of Nanar to no taxes on houses up to 500sqft in Mumbai. Also, the two parties share similar views on the Ram Mandir issue. “Is this election not about the future of our country? We have leaders like Omar Abdullah, who are talking about having a separate prime minister for Jammu and Kashmir, and the Congress is ready to accept it,” he says. “We decided to join hands with a like-minded party because we want a strong government.”
At the end of the session, there is a demand for selfies and Aditya happily obliges. The event is a definite success. “I came to see Aditya,” said Dhananjay Deore, 20, from Vadivarhe village near Nashik. “We had heard a lot about him. In our village, the Shiv Sena is strong, so I felt I should hear him talk on issues.”
Soft-spoken and an efficient back-room manager, Aditya is an avid reader of history and poetry and loves cricket and football. He first grabbed headlines in 2010 when he opposed the inclusion of Rohinton Mistry’s Such A Long Journey in Mumbai University’s English Literature syllabus for its negative references to the Shiv Sena. Today, he is the rising star of Maharashtra politics.
When the foot-overbridge at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus collapsed in March, Aditya asked local MP Arvind Sawant and Mumbai mayor Vishwanath Mahadeshwar to personally monitor rescue and relief work; six people had died and more than 30 were injured. The mayor, who was claiming that the bridge belonged to the railways, was categorically told that it was not the time for a blame game and that the guilty should not be spared.
Amey Ghole, Shiv Sena corporator from Wadala in Mumbai, tells THE WEEK that Aditya is keen on solving issues concerning common people. He recounts how during their February visit to Marathwada, where they distributed water tanks and fodder to drought-hit farmers, Aditya mixed with villagers and listened to their woes. “There was not a single occasion when Aditya distributed relief material from stage,” he says. “He is a warm person and does not want us to treat him like a leader. He wants us to address him as ‘Aditya’ and not as ‘Dada’ or ‘Bhai’. He even gets uncomfortable if someone tries to touch his feet.” Aditya, though not a party animal, is an advocate of a vibrant nightlife, too, as he thinks citizens should have space and time to unwind after work.
During the civic body elections of 2017, where the BJP and the Shiv Sena were fighting each other, “Aditya announced that Yuva Sena office-bearers would not ask for a ticket, rather they would work for the victory of Shiv Sena candidates,” says Harshal Pradhan, Shiv Sena’s media secretary. And, they did.
Having studied in a convent school and a Jesuit college, Aditya goes out of his way to accommodate people from other religions. All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen legislator Imtiyaz Jaleel, who shared the dais with Aditya at a recent function in Aurangabad, praised him for halting his speech when the azan was sounded from a nearby mosque. Aditya replied that he had learnt it from his late grandfather, Bal Thackeray.
While Uddhav rubbished rumours of Aditya contesting the Lok Sabha elections, speculations are rife that he might contest the assembly elections in October.
ADITYA THACKERAY, 29
EDUCATION
BA (History), St Xavier’s College, Mumbai; LLB, K.C. Law College, Mumbai
POLITICAL LINKS
Grandfather Bal Thackeray was founder of the Shiv Sena; father, Uddhav, is the party chief