Sssssssshhhhh! Here’s my motto for 2026: Awaaz neechay, bees kadam peechhay. Thank you, OG Rakhi Sawant – you win the “Woman of the Year” title.
If you haven’t caught up with Rakhi’s viral reel yet, don’t wait. This is Rakhi being Rakhi as she imperiously says, “Marrrrrney do” to those who are burning with jealousy (“Jalney do”). Rakhi is like Mumbai’s favourite snack—the fiery dahi missal, a strange mix of contradictory flavours.
Dahi missal is best enjoyed at busy intersections by commuters rushing to catch the last train home. Let’s start with the toppings and garnishes—red chili powder, fresh dhaniya leaves mixed into cold yoghurt, which is poured over piping hot, spicy lentils. It is a meal in itself. An unpretentious, hardy, irresistible, entirely satisfying concoction. A lot like Rakhi herself.
Rakhi’s ingenious marketing
At 47, Rakhi’s reels are eagerly awaited by fans like me for their unfiltered, unscripted, unselfconscious content. Beneath the rough edges, rawness and daring, there are priceless kernels of truth that her followers relate to and applaud.
After fleeing to Dubai to avoid legal cases and to get over her mother’s death, she is back. Three years and many dramatic changes later—new hair, new face, new body. But thankfully, the same moofat attitude. Today, with two failed marriages behind her, she has set her sights on global billionaires and refers to US President Donald Trump as her ‘daddy’, claiming he’s her “only father”. She takes on anybody and everybody, frequently comparing herself to international mega stars like Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian.
Rakhi Sawant is far more entertaining and authentic than those manufactured Hollywood celebs she emulates. She shreds rivals mercilessly and solicits invitations to A-List red carpet events. When she shows up at functions, her outrageously tacky costumes make her look like a mobile disco ball. So what? She flaunts her body PARTS in front of paparazzi. This isn’t brazenness alone. It is ingenious marketing.
Why am I writing about Rakhi Sawant? Because she is a rare creature who has tried multiple careers (politics included) and never given up.
Is she a “real” Marathi Manoos? Does Rakhi Sawant face disqualification or discrimination because she defies the stereotype? Is her Maharashtrianess not kosher enough to pass the litmus test? And who exactly is this mythical Marathi Manoos that the Thackeray cousins keep pulling out whenever the going gets rough?
Marathi Manoos vs outsiders
The ‘MM’ narrative is back, with Raj and Uddhav Thackeray linking arms and declaring unity to fight the upcoming civic elections together. A bit too little, a bit too late. Best to let the Tom-and-Jerry cartoon play out, while the beleaguered Marathi Manoos struggles to survive.
The question for the Thackeray cousins is simple: please identify the Marathi Manoos as 29 municipal corporations in 32 districts head to the polls. Is the archetypal Marathi Manoos the aggressive local bully who intimidates anyone who does not “behave”? Or is it the lazy, complacent neighbour who refuses to work hard and compete with diligent “outsiders” who have smoothly taken away jobs?
This time, the Marathi Manoos card is unlikely to work. Those monitoring the recent alliances between the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (Raj Thackeray) and the Shiv Sena UBT are sniggering away. Does Ajit Pawar make the cut as a true-blue Marathi Manoos? God help us, if the answer is yes.
Meanwhile, the two sides of the Nationalist Congress Party will fight the Pimpri polls together as a “parivaar” – giving the word a bad name.
And yes, Uddhav has warned the Marathi Manoos that Mumbai will be “swallowed by two Gujaratis”. I wonder which two. As the Gujarati vs Marathi war escalates, we now seem to be headed for a dhokla vs vada Pao challenge round.
I am bewildered. The “outsider/insider” divide is obnoxious in a democracy where freedom of movement is a given, or should be. People are free to go where the work is. And yet, we read daily reports of citizens who look different, speak differently, act differently, eat differently, dress differently, think differently, being attacked by violent mobs hell-bent on asserting superiority or supremacy. How different are Indians from the Nazis? What about the young man from Tripura who was called “chinky”, “Chinese”, and asked if he was looking for pork, before being pounced on, even as the poor man was pleading, “I am Indian”.
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Bollywood report card
Now that Dhurandhar has convincingly trounced its nearest rival to emerge as the undisputed blockbuster of 2025, should India be thanking National Security Advisor Ajit Doval for saving the nation through multiple crises during his various undercover missions? Jealous insiders are busy working out the math.
Doval’s impressive assignments at critical points involving the country’s compromised security project him as a superhero—always ready to serve the nation, no matter what the mission. According to popular lore, Doval went undetected as a beggar in Pakistan for seven long years. There’s a movie right there, waiting for Aditya Dhar to turn it into another mega hit. I’m holding my breath. I’m sure, so is Maddy (actor R Madhavan, who convincingly played Doval in Dhurandhar).
Maddy got the best (and most ominous) lines in the film. “India’s biggest enemies are Indians themselves. Pakistan comes second.” A chilling reminder for all, as 2025—annus horribilis—mercifully ends.
Fear not: 2026 is the year of the fire horse in the Chinese zodiac—a powerful, dynamic, and rare combination indicating bold change. Are you ready to gallop into 2026? Happy New Year, readers.
Shobhaa De is an author, columnist, social commentator, and opinion-shaper. She has written 20 books. She tweets @DeShobhaa. Views are personal.
(Edited by Ratan Priya)