There will be no more Nana Patekar.
Twenty-three-year-old VPs of content at movie production houses (yes, they produce “content”, not cinema) have made sure of that. They have also made sure that I, who grew up worshipping Bollywood and even wrote a book on it, no longer care for what I once could not live without.
Nana Patekar broke the mould of the conventional ’90s Hindi movie hero. He was not good-looking in the traditional chocolate-boy leading-man sense. Nor was he macho in the take-off-shirt, look-at-my-abs-and-biceps sense. He did not have a chiselled face, nor the genes of Bollywood royalty.
And he could not dance. As a matter of fact, his dance sequences will be remembered as his most enduring comic bits, be it “Peele peele peele meri jaani” from Tirangaa, “Love Rap” from Krantiveer (who can forget Bindoo saying “You know my age is thirty plus nine,” to which Nana Patekar says, “That means you are old wine”), or even “Main bhi nacha mere ko do” from “Tum Milo to Sahi”.
On the face of it, he would have remained a character actor.
Yet, for many years, he was a reliable lead, capable of carrying a movie financially on his own shoulders, be it Ab Tak Chappan, Prahar, Agni Sakshi (people forget Jackie Shroff was the hero), Krantiveer, Ghulam-e-Mustafa, Angaar, Yugpurush, Yeshwant and, yes, Shahrukh Khan fans may disagree, but “Raju Ban Gya Gentleman” too.
The reason for his popularity was simple.
He was part of the last generation of actors that knew how to deliver dialogue on screen.
Dialogue-baazi. An art.
You could write the most inane of lines. Nana could make them epic, purely because of how he delivered them: the manic, begins-low-and-then-suddenly-goes-high style, often mimicked but never replicated.
Not that the SoBo, comedy-club-going, India’s Got Latent-appreciating crowd would understand, but popular cinema is about the visually and auditorily distinctive. You go to the theater to experience the person, not just to watch a movie (which you can do at home on streaming), and that is why what comes out today is cookie-cutter, soulless slop that mostly flops financially, neither good nor bad in a good way.
All they are is forgettable.
Which Nana Patekar never was. Nothing he ever did was, whether it be “Hindu ka khoon, Musalman ka khoon”, or “ek sala machchar”, or every effing frame he was in in Parinda and Prahar.
And as he passes, one mourns not just the man but a culture of entertainment that is all but dead.
To quote a character he played in Welcome: “Seh Lenge Thoda”.
What an amazing view and video.
Today this small calf of 3–4-days was swept away by the Teesta River near Gajoldoba and found several kilometres downstream. While mother was looking after it.
With the timely efforts of the Baikunthapur Forest Division, support from local fishermen, and veterinary care, the calf was safely rescued and reunited with its mother, who immediately accepted and nursed it.
Just look at how mother behaved !!
@BoriaMajumdar@Abhinav_Bindra If there is a person who deserves a Biopic / TV series , it is him ! So incredible , how he prepared for 2008 , after that loss in Athens , basically took into account everything that could go wrong ( including footwear ) and made sure all those variables are negated
@ovshake42 Abhinav bindra - 2008 , watershed moment , I was studying in the library , got an excited call from my brother that India had won a Gold , finally.
@JamieMagill5 The 100 started 5 years ago , and it has been a flawed format ever since , but, this year , I have noticed a lot of criticism and articles written about how awful it is , wonder if it has anything to do with who owns most of the franchises? 🧐
We all speak, we all write, we all read.. why is it that it takes Piyush Pandey’s genius to change lives and brands with 6 words - Kuch khaas hai hum sabhi Main- 6 words - ocean of wisdom. So aspirational for young Indians growing in 90’s. We all believed - Kuch khaas hai hum sabhi Main.. I will miss Piyush Pandey’s creativity and human touch.
Stop writing 5,000-word op-eds dissecting Trump’s policies. There aren’t any. Not in any coherent, ideological sense. What we’re witnessing isn’t governance—it’s raw power as personal gratification, and until we grasp this, we miss the forest for the trees.
Trump enters his second term with something close to an absolute mandate, not because Americans embraced his vision, but because they recoiled from what progressive Democrats tried to do to the country. Their attempts to reimagine institutions—from open borders and replacing equality with equity, to criminalizing majoritarian identities—sparked a backlash so strong Trump now rides it like a tsunami.
The result? He is, for all practical purposes, king. Republicans prostrate themselves before him. Corporate titans arrive bearing gifts like medieval supplicants. Nations debase themselves to curry favor. This isn’t hyperbole—it’s American politics in 2025.
Trump’s “policy” is his pathology: an insatiable hunger for dominance. Born into wealth, luxury lost its thrill early. Money was never the drug—submission was.
In youth and middle age, power came through beautiful women throwing themselves at him or allowing him to grab them. The rush wasn’t sexual—it was the cocaine hit of “look how powerful I am.” When that faded, it became financial schemes. The thrill was fleecing others, knowing his presence could separate them from money.
Reality TV was the next stage. Firing people on camera, watching adults beg for approval, celebrities competing for attention—power distilled and broadcast for millions.
Now comes the final evolution: making nations kneel. Every Republican governor, senator, and media personality speaks the supplicant’s tongue. Tech titans bring golden offerings, praise carefully crafted like medieval court tributes.
Internationally, the full scope emerges. Countries that once dealt with America as equals now calculate how to feed Trump’s ego alongside their interests.
Pakistan is a case study—a nation whose foreign policy is high art in shoe-sniffing American power. Pakistan formally recommended Trump for a Nobel Peace Prize..They sign deals with Trump-backed crypto companies.
This isn’t diplomacy—it’s performance art stroking Trump’s ego while hoping to avoid wrath.
The Pakistan playbook spreads. Nations learn the path to American favor runs through Trump’s validation: recommend him for prizes he craves, publicly praise his wisdom, buy into his businesses. Traditional diplomacy—state departments, embassies, international law—are replaced by one chokepoint: one man’s need to be ubermensch.
Trump’s arsenal isn’t military might or traditional economic leverage. It’s the presidency wielded as a personal instrument of revenge and reward: prosecute rivals who refuse to bend the knee, impose crushing tariffs on those who don’t genuflect, weaponize government to enforce submission.
This is why policy analysts fails. They look for chess when Trump plays a different game—the schoolyard bully.
So here’s the question for every nation, especially India: do you bend the knee?
The temptation is enormous. Pakistan’s rewards show submission’s lure. Play the game, feed the ego, avoid Trump’s wrath.
But this is a test of national character. Some things are worth more than temporary advantage. Some prices are too high—even for peace.
The moment will pass. Presidents change, political movements exhaust themselves, pendulums swing back. But national dignity, once surrendered, is nearly impossible to reclaim. The muscle memory of subservience becomes a permanent disability.
India must resist the parade of supplicants. Not because Trump lacks power—he clearly has it—but because feeding that power’s hunger costs far more than any short-term gain. Better to weather the storm with dignity than kneel for shelter.
The world watches who remembers who they are—and who becomes anyone for the right price.