Latest news with #Dalvi


Time of India
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Remembering Marathi writer Jaywant Dalvi through words & frames
Pune: A prolific Marathi playwright , screenwriter and novelist, Jaywant Dalvi brought a rare blend of psychological insight and social commentary to Marathi literature and theatre. His bold and empathetic stories challenged conventions while anchoring themselves deeply in Maharashtrian culture. To mark his birth centenary, Pune will host Dalvi Samjoon Ghetana , a two-day cultural homage on May 17 and 18 at National Film Archive of India on Law College Road. Organised by Belvalkar Sanskrutik Manch, Sambhasha Foundation, and Aashay Film Club, the event will begin with a screening of Pudhcha Paool, the Rajdutt-directed film that captures Dalvi's nuanced storytelling. The film stars Yashwant Dutt, Ashalata Wabgaonkar, Prashant Damle, and Nilu Phule, each bringing Dalvi's script to life with gravitas and grit. Sunday morning offers a deep dive into the man behind the words. At 10.30 am, A Versatile Talent Jaywant Dalvi, an audio-visual presentation curated by Satish Jakatdar and hosted by Rajesh Damle, will unveil Dalvi's world through the voices of Prasad Oak, Dilip Prabhavalkar, Vijaya Mehta, and the late Vikram Gokhale, among others. This segment promises a vibrant mix of visuals and insights into Dalvi's seminal works, including Barrister, Suryasta, Raosaheb, and Uttarayan. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like 3 Reasons to Plug This Into Your Home Today elecTrick - Save upto 80% on Power Bill Learn More Undo Actor Sanjay Mone will perform dramatic readings from Saare Pravasi Ghadiche and Jevha Kunacha Kaka Marto, revealing Dalvi's uncanny ability to find poetry in everyday pain. The day will conclude with screening of Barrister, a powerful play directed by Vikram Gokhale, featuring Ila Bhate and Sachin Khedekar at 5pm. "We are celebrating the birth centenary of Jaywant Dalvi—an eminent literary figure known for his versatile talent as a writer and playwright," said Sameer Belvalkar of Belvalkar Sanskrutik Manch. "Through Dalvi Samjoon Ghetana we aim to introduce the younger generation to the legacy of a personality as impactful as Dalvi," added Belvalkar. In a time when noise often replaces nuance, this weekend's event offers Pune a moment to pause and reengage with a voice that still speaks volumes. Pune: A prolific Marathi playwright, screenwriter and novelist, Jaywant Dalvi brought a rare blend of psychological insight and social commentary to Marathi literature and theatre. His bold and empathetic stories challenged conventions while anchoring themselves deeply in Maharashtrian culture. To mark his birth centenary, Pune will host Dalvi Samjoon Ghetana, a two-day cultural homage on May 17 and 18 at National Film Archive of India on Law College Road. Organised by Belvalkar Sanskrutik Manch, Sambhasha Foundation, and Aashay Film Club, the event will begin with a screening of Pudhcha Paool, the Rajdutt-directed film that captures Dalvi's nuanced storytelling. The film stars Yashwant Dutt, Ashalata Wabgaonkar, Prashant Damle, and Nilu Phule, each bringing Dalvi's script to life with gravitas and grit. Sunday morning offers a deep dive into the man behind the words. At 10.30 am, A Versatile Talent Jaywant Dalvi, an audio-visual presentation curated by Satish Jakatdar and hosted by Rajesh Damle, will unveil Dalvi's world through the voices of Prasad Oak, Dilip Prabhavalkar, Vijaya Mehta, and the late Vikram Gokhale, among others. This segment promises a vibrant mix of visuals and insights into Dalvi's seminal works, including Barrister, Suryasta, Raosaheb, and Uttarayan. Actor Sanjay Mone will perform dramatic readings from Saare Pravasi Ghadiche and Jevha Kunacha Kaka Marto, revealing Dalvi's uncanny ability to find poetry in everyday pain. The day will conclude with screening of Barrister, a powerful play directed by Vikram Gokhale, featuring Ila Bhate and Sachin Khedekar at 5pm. "We are celebrating the birth centenary of Jaywant Dalvi—an eminent literary figure known for his versatile talent as a writer and playwright," said Sameer Belvalkar of Belvalkar Sanskrutik Manch. "Through Dalvi Samjoon Ghetana we aim to introduce the younger generation to the legacy of a personality as impactful as Dalvi," added Belvalkar. In a time when noise often replaces nuance, this weekend's event offers Pune a moment to pause and reengage with a voice that still speaks volumes.


Hindustan Times
10-05-2025
- Business
- Hindustan Times
Reimagining Mumbai: experts call for better public transport, affordable housing, natural open spaces
Mumbai: Mumbai cannot handle the burden of the exponential redevelopment boom it is undergoing, and an alternative is direly needed: this was the consensus that emerged at a panel discussion titled Reimagining Mumbai's Future, held at The Asiatic Society on Friday evening. 'If you replace a neighbourhood of densely packed four-storey buildings with 20 40-storey buildings, like in Bhendi Bazaar, you will face the consequences,' said Mustansir Dalvi, an architect and professor. Organised by Art Deco Mumbai, the panel featured the platform's founder trustee, Atul Kumar, speaking with Dalvi, conservation architect Vikas Dilawari, and Dr Jehangir Sorabjee, head of the department of medicine at Bombay Hospital. Mumbai, in the past, has been a city that has used crises, like the plague, to propel itself towards improvement, said Kumar. 'Planned neighbourhoods, like Matunga, Shivaji Park, and Colaba backbay, emerged through the Bombay Improvement Trust (BIT), which was formed after the plague in 1896. These had grids, wide roads, parks, and schools, which all formed a complete neighbourhood.' Things changed, in part, due to Mumbai's ever-increasing population, which Sorabjee's profession took the fall for. 'In the 1920s, the average lifespan in Mumbai was 26 years,' he said. 'In the 1950s, it was 34 years. In the 1990s, it was 56 years, and now it is 70 years. Every two years, the number of people in the city increases by a million.' But one crucial change has led Mumbai to the point it is at today. 'Mumbai had building codes that restricted the height of buildings depending on the width of the road, based on an angle, to ensure homes on the ground floor received adequate sunlight and air,' said Dalvi. 'This changed when, in the '60s, the first Development Plan (DP) brought in the concept of Floor Space Index (FSI), replacing housing's primary aim of habitability with monetisation. This is what has led to terms such as carpet area, built-up area, super built-up area, etc. Housing is now about exchange value.' Dilawari also pointed fingers at the Rent Control Act, which was introduced in 1999. While most countries have abolished it, it continues to incentivise landlords in Mumbai to keep old buildings unmaintained and instead opt for redevelopment. With real estate's force as a market, fueled by speculation, Dalvi remarked that Mumbai has changed from being a rental city to one obsessed with ownership. This has come with a decrease in open spaces, unplanned development, and a lack of affordable housing. All of these factors meant the panel at large was not optimistic about Mumbai's future. 'In the next three to five years, the consequences of the way Mumbai is changing will fructify,' said Kumar. Sorabjee spoke of his ground-floor home being surrounded now by five immense towers. 'This has become a very stressful city, and there is little harmony left in it,' he said. 'We have been witness to development that is largely car-centric and for the upper middle class and wealthy. Those who need and use public transport, unfortunately, do not have a strong lobby or political will attached to it. A lot of the decisions are being made ad hoc, like the six-lane road at Marine Drive, without proper traffic studies and assessment of the impact on the area,' Sorabjee added. When Kumar asked the experts what was on their wish list for the city, a few unanimous choices emerged: better public transport, affordable housing and natural open spaces. 'If we can concentrate on these few things, the future of the city can still be turned around, and it can be given a chance to shine,' said Dilawari. Climate change weighed heavily on Dalvi's mind, who reckoned that without attention being given to it, Mumbai by 2050 will revert to its original state of seven disparate islands. When an audience member asked if there remained any hope for the neglected suburbs of the city, Malad in particular, Sorabjee was pessimistic still. 'That would take a crisis,' he mused.


India Today
29-04-2025
- Politics
- India Today
Ex-Mumbai Mayor, once arrested for abusing Eknath Shinde, joins ruling Shiv Sena
Former Mumbai mayor and Shiv Sena (UBT) leader Datta Dalvi joined the Eknath Shinde-led Shiv Sena more than a year after he was arrested for using abusive language against 2023, Dalvi was arrested by Mumbai police for using "abusive language" against Shinde. He was later released on incidentally, hails from Vikhroli, which is represented in the Maharashtra assembly by Sunil Raut, brother of Shiv Sena (UBT) leader Sanjay Apart from Dalvi, several Sena (UBT) functionaries from Mumbai, including from frontal organisations, joined the Shinde-led Shiv Sena, the development coming ahead of the crucial Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) said 40-50 former corporators of Sena (UBT) have returned to "original Shiv Sena". The Deputy Chief Minister said so far 70 former corporators from Mumbai have joined the Shiv who is also the chief leader of Shiv Sena, said the next target is to secure local bodies in the from Sena (UBT), Congress and NCP (SP) from Jalgaon too joined the Sena. IN THIS STORY#Mumbai


Time of India
25-04-2025
- General
- Time of India
175 schools in Thane at risk of deregistration for not renewing RTE recognition
Thane: At least 175 schools in the Thane Municipal Corporation area, including some prominent institutions, failed to renew their recognition under the Right to Education (RTE) Act 2009 since 2022, putting them at risk of deregistration. Under RTE norms in effect since 2013, schools must renew their recognition once every three years by providing these documents. Mahim-based RTI activist Nitin Dalvi sought a query from the Thane civic education department about the number of schools not submitting key compliance documents such as audited financial reports for the past three years, licenses for structural changes, or updated student strength figures. The majority of the schools are from Mumbra, old Thane city, including Ghodbunder Road, the data revealed. You Can Also Check: Mumbai AQI | Weather in Mumbai | Bank Holidays in Mumbai | Public Holidays in Mumbai Dalvi explained that the mandate aims to prevent financial mismanagement by school operators and ensure govt oversight of changes in infrastructure or student capacity. Schools are also required to submit stability certificates and fire safety compliance reports. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Batna: AI guru Andrew Ng recommends: Read These 5 Books And Turn Your Life Aroun... Blinkist: Andrew Ng's Reading List Undo The RTI activist said a previous query before the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation's education department revealed around 218 primary unaided private schools, including a few prominent and convent institutions in Mumbai with significant financial turnover, were operating without RTE approval. "The Maharashtra State Commission for Protection of Child Rights previously directed the Director of Primary Education to compile a list of all schools operating without RTE approval in the state and take action. The presence of 175 schools in Thane operating without RTE approval raises questions about the inaction by the education department towards this blatant mockery of the law by these institutions," Dalvi questioned. Thane Deputy Municipal Commissioner (Education) Sachin Sangale said notices will be issued to such institutions. "Submission of compliance reports is mandatory as per the RTE Act. If any school fails to respond after repeated notices, their registration can be canceled — though this is rare, as most institutions comply after initial warnings," he said.


Scroll.in
23-04-2025
- General
- Scroll.in
Fiction by Upamanyu Chatterjee: A hungry man, deranged by the smell of meat, kills a family of six
To the police, Basant Kumar maintained that the evening of September 29, 1949 had passed quite typically in the Dalvi household. The parents and the daughter had been discussing her engagement, the son had been trying to do his homework while listening to the radio, the sister-in-law and her daughter had been busy in the kitchen while he, Basant Kumar had been occupied with his routine chores, ferrying in water and wood and coal, washing up, rushing to the bazaar to buy sugar and eggs, tending to the cows, clearing the clothesline, going off to get the boy's school uniform ironed, the usual. Never a moment's rest for him. 'Well, go on.' Well, the family had had dinner at 9.30-10, as they did every day. Gosht of goat, dal, tamatar-paneer. They always ate well. Then the sister-in-law and her daughter ate in the kitchen, whatever was left over. He waited. They called him. He went and washed up the thalis, pots and pans and then, after they had all gone to bed, he had his dinner in the shed, whatever was left over for him by the sister-in-law and her daughter from whatever had been left over for them. 'So you never had enough to eat in that household, is that what you're saying?' Basant Kumar protested. He said that he was not one to complain, for God had been most kind to him. But if one wants service from one's donkey, if one needs a beast to slave day in and day out, one must at least feed him adequately. The subject animated him. The Dalvis liked to eat, he stated. And they liked the others under their roof to feel want. His voice rose. 'They had non-vegetarian almost every day, sir, goat or chicken or fish or egg. They ate like rakshasas themselves and always left only two pieces of meat in the pot, one each for the sister-in-law and her daughter.' His inhalations became audible, spasmodic. 'I got the scrapings of the pot, some gobs of curry, some grains of rice and a couple of chapatis. Then I'd have to filch two green chillis and one raw onion to complete my meal.' 'Where is the servant now?' asked Sen of the Assistant Superintendent. 'And the cows? You have of course spoken to all the neighbours? And the next of kin? I remember Dalvi telling me once of a younger brother who is an engineer at the Water Works on Indore Road.' The policeman nodded. They stood in the rear courtyard just outside the kitchen. 'The brother was here this morning, completely shattered, sir, naturally. His man took the cows away.' He half-lifted his hand towards the outhouse before which stood, at attention, the constable who had left the kitchen on the orders of the Assistant Superintendent. 'Basant Kumar is here in bed, sir. He is not going anywhere.' The policeman made little effort to hide his grim amusement. 'He injured his ankle last night. Rather badly. A good sprain if not a fracture. And we'll be guarding this place for a while.' His voice dropped as he repeated, half to himself, 'No, he is not going anywhere.' Basant Kumar was small, dark and moustached, with bulbous eyes that to Sen suggested an unstable temperament. In the gloom of the shed, lit inadequately by a kerosene lantern that cast fearsome shadows on the woodpile and the sacks of coal, he lay on his mattress and stared defensively at the law. 'He says that the pain in the ankle makes it impossible for him to stand, sir,' reported the constable in a soft bark that also suggested that he only awaited orders to raise the supine form upright with a couple of curses and a good kick. The sharp smell of the kerosene remained distinct above the gentle stink of dung and animal urine that, permeating the planks of wood that separated the outhouse from the cowshed, diffused through Basant Kumar's living quarters like a blessing. A rexine bag atop the woodpile contained his clothes; on a nail hammered into the door – a plank, really – hung a rag of a towel and a half-shirt. Sen sniffed the stuffy air. Between the kerosene and the dung, he seemed to sense something else, raw onion, firstly, from the servant's exhalations, and yet another aroma, faint but heavy, suggesting meat fried and curried and cooked for an age in a hundred spices, as though for a rich marriage feast. Basant Kumar looked exhausted, in pain, frightened and wary as he stared at all those uniforms crowding his space. Sen stood over him and smiled disarmingly. 'No, no, please don't get up,' he exclaimed even though the servant had made no move to do so. Turning to the Assistant Superintendent, Sen asked, 'Has he seen a doctor?' Silently, with a wriggle of his eyebrows, the policeman asked the same question of the nearest constable. In response, the constable snapped to attention and began to glare without blinking at the wooden pole from which dangled the lantern. 'You'll get well soon,' Sen assured Basant Kumar with another smile and turning, led the way out. On the way to his jeep, the group paused once to gather around the blackened mango tree to allow Sen to finish tut-tutting over the extent of the devastation. At the jeep, observing the group poised, as it were, on its toes, so eager was it for him to depart, he addressed it once again. 'I shall dispatch a report to the Collector immediately. And meet poor Dalvi's brother to see what else needs to be done' – and then specifically to the Assistant Superintendent – 'Could someone take that poor fellow to the Trust dispensary? He might not be faking that ankle, you know.' After disposing of the day's work, Sen reached home, as was his habit, closer to eight in the evening than seven. The Magistrate's residence, a rather charming late-19th century bungalow on Temple Road in the Civil Lines area, was a mere couple of kilometres away from his court and Sen often preferred, despite the bother of a peon preceding – and a second following – him to shoo the citizenry of Batia away from the royal path, to walk the distance. In any case, at the junction of Durga Tank Crossing and Temple Road, he invariably descended from the jeep to stroll the remaining few hundred metres, never failing to warn Manjhi to crawl in first gear and retain his thumb on the horn because, as he explained to the grinning driver, he didn't want to be sitting in the jeep when it ran over one of the dozens of devotees who used the route as a short cut to the temple. The Civil Lines area of Batia, dating from the time of the creation of the sub-division, was some seventy years old; the Dayasagar Adinath temple, at the summit of the knoll behind it, a little over a thousand. Circa 900 AD the man in charge of the local archaeological office said, attributable to one of the last Yadava kings. 'Architecturally not very significant, though it does attract sir, as you will see, thousands of pilgrims every year.' Almost all of whom, from the railway station and the bus depot, found it most convenient to trudge up to the hospices on the hillock by way of Temple Road. In the past, though, the blessing of this facility had been available to them only sporadically. Before 1947, every now and then, some irate Sub-Divisional Magistrate (with the approval of his District Collector, of course), fed up with the trickle, throughout the day and throughout the year, of the faithful outside his bungalow – and moreover, one that swelled to a stream every April and October – would put up a board at the mouth of the road that read (in English), No Thoroughfare, and post a sentry in a tent alongside the notice, round the clock, whose duty it would be to encourage the devotees to trudge further down Durga Tank Crossing, past Subzi Mandi, and turn right at Chhindwara Gate to take Company Bagh Road to the temple hillock. A mere five kilometres more – not even – nothing, a trifle, if gauged as an expression of the depth of their faith.