I don't say Mark this tweet often, but boy, when I do!
2021: Predicted mamata will lose Nandigram
2026: Predicted Mamata will lose Bhabanipore.
Flex much!
Great news !
Last few days, we have seen the nightmarish visuals of TRASH on Juhu beach
Yesterday, Mumbai BJP Adhyaksh & Andheri MLA @AmeetSatam ji went to beach along with BMC authorities & corporators
Things to be done ASAP by BMC -
✅install trash booms at all points where nallas and rivers meet the sea, to trap and remove waste before it enters the ocean.
✅ deploy additional manpower & machinery to expedite cleaning process
BMC has been instructed to work on a war footing with great urgency 👍
Dhanyawad Ameet ji,
Mumbaicha Sevak🙏🙏
Let’s all work together to give Mumbaikars the city of our dreams,
not these nightmares!!
#JuhuBeach #CleanMumbai #AmeetSatamWithMumbai
FDA Suspends Parsi Dairy Farm Pvt. Ltd. (Marine Lines) Licence With Immediate Effect
One of Mumbai’s oldest and most iconic food institutions, Parsi Dairy Farm, has had its food business licence suspended by the Maharashtra FDA following an inspection that reportedly found serious hygiene and food safety violations.
Established in 1916, Parsi Dairy Farm has been a cherished part of Mumbai’s culinary heritage for over a century, known for its milk, sweets and traditional dairy products.
Heritage is built over generations, but maintaining public trust also requires meeting today’s food safety standards.
Let’s hope this iconic institution rectifies the deficiencies and returns to serving Mumbaikars soon.
📍Marine Lines, Mumbai
#Mumbai #MumbaiHeritage #ParsiDairyFarm #FoodSafety #OldMumbai #MarineLines
Auxilium is my school, this is the barasat branch. we have never seen cemetery even in the Bandel branch which is huge. Idk why they are making one in barasat though
Residents allege that an illegal Christian cemetery is being constructed inside Auxilium School, adjacent to a Hindu residential area in Barasat, without public knowledge. Despite a mass petition by locals, work continues. Today, Hindu Jagran Manch members joined .
Looking at the state of the Bengali community today, I hang my head in shame.
Once upon a time, Bengal did not produce turncoats. It produced men and women who walked into the storm with their spines intact. From Raja Rammohun Roy redifining Hinduism — never mind today’s retrospective criticism — to Vidyasagar forcing widow remarriage against a howling orthodoxy, from Bankim Chandra’s pen that lit the fire of patriotism to the revolutionaries who embraced the gallows with “Vandemataram” on their lips, Bengalis of that era earned their reputation, swimming against the tide. They spoke when it was dangerous. They acted when it was suicidal. They did not wait for the result sheet before deciding which side of history to stand on. Subhas Chandra Bose did not ask for a safe seat in the Viceroy’s council; he raised an army. The Anushilan and Jugantar boys did not write cautious editorials; they carried bombs. Rabindranath Tagore did not trim his verses to suit the ruling dispensation of the day. That Bengal is gone. What remains in West Bengal today is a community that has perfected the art of backdated courage and pre-emptive surrender.
Look at the spectacle that unfolded after 4 May this year. TMC musclemen, suddenly draped in saffron, went on a rampage precisely to manufacture the narrative, “BJP is doing what we did in 2021.” The moment the lie stood exposed and the BJP made it clear these were not its workers, the same ecosystem that had spent 15 years abusing the BJP as “fascist” and “communal” began its frantic migration. Three Rajya Sabha MPs were let in. The rest were told the new ruling party’s doors were closed for them. A majority of the 80 TMC MLAs promptly deserted Mamata Banerjee under Ritabrata Banerjee’s leadership. Most Lok Sabha MPs ran to an obscure party floated in 2023 and informed the speaker they would no longer sit beside Abhishek Banerjee and his coterie. Far from being an SOP in Indian politics — the weathercocks of no other state match Bengal’s scale — this is the behaviour of people who treat ideology as seasonal clothing.
The media followed with even less shame. Anandabazar Patrika, which had been a glorified Congress house organ during Jyoti Basu’s long rule, then became Mamata Banerjee’s most enthusiastic cheerleader for two decades (as its own former chief editor Sumon Chattopadhyay later admitted), discovered overnight that the TMC was corrupt, authoritarian and finished. Suman De, the star anchor of ABP Bangla, performed the same U-turn during the campaign itself. The moment the results were declared, the channel completed its transformation into an uncritical BJP mouthpiece. The same organisation that once manufactured consent for the ruling party now mobilises mass support for the new one. No apology. No explanation. Just the smooth click of the weathercock changing direction with the wind.
The literary and intellectual class has been even more contemptible. The moment it was announced that Taslima Nasreen would visit Kolkata on 1 August, writers who had maintained a studied silence for years suddenly discovered their voices. They now thunder against the Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee government for declaring her persona non grata and against the TMC for never revoking that order. Where were these custodians of conscience when the beleaguered intellectual — an atheist feminist who treated Islam with contempt in a fanatically Islamist Bangladesh — was forced to live in undisclosed safe houses, moving like a hunted animal from city to city, denied even basic security by the very state that now claims to be “secular” and “progressive”? The men of letters’ outrage today is performance timed for maximum safety and minimum risk.
And then there are the people themselves. For 15 years, they complained, whispered, posted cryptic Facebook statuses and forwarded WhatsApp messages. They were ‘very angry’. Yet not one egg was thrown at a TMC leader’s face, not one serious street protest sustained, not one relentless campaign of civil disobedience mounted while the regime was in power. The moment the results showed the regime had fallen, suddenly everyone discovered their inner rebel. The same citizenry that could not muster the courage to confront power when it mattered now competes to be photographed burning effigies of yesterday’s rulers. Their U-turn smacks of the relief of spectators who waited for the match to be decided before choosing which team to celebrate.
We Bengalis of West Bengal have become a community of post-facto heroes and pre-emptive cowards. We produce more column inches of moral posturing after the danger has passed than we ever produced when speaking up carried actual cost. The same people who once gave India its sharpest minds and bravest hearts — pioneering in India’s freedom struggle — now specialise in the refined art of changing masters without changing their vocabulary of self-righteousness.
The tragedy is not that some politicians switched sides. Politicians everywhere are opportunists (I repeat, not on this magnitude and scale). The tragedy is that the broader society — its writers, its journalists, its “civil society,” its ordinary citizens — has lost even the memory of what moral consistency once looked like. We no longer feel shame when we flip. We feel only the need to justify the chameleon in us with fresh language of ethics every time the wind changes direction.
The Bengal that once terrified the British with its intellect and its audacity has become a Bengal that terrifies no one except those who still remember what it used to be. We have traded character for comfort, courage for calculation, and honesty for the safety of whichever side happens to be winning at the moment.
History will remember this phase. It will not remember it kindly.