Baramati's Heart Stands Still: Grief Unites Town as Ajit Pawar's Final Journey Begins
Baramati Mourns Ajit Pawar: Grief Unites Town After Crash

Baramati's Clock Stops at 8.44 AM as Tragedy Strikes

The clock froze at 8.44am in Baramati on Wednesday morning. For Ajit Pawar, a leader known for his punctuality and discipline, time ran out during what became his final journey to his hometown. News of the plane crash initially arrived in fragments and whispers before hardening into an unbearable truth that would reshape the day.

A Town United in Grief Beyond Political Divides

Grown men wept openly at street corners and chowks throughout Baramati. Business shutters fell closed without instruction. The vast sugarcane fields that define the region's landscape stood unusually still under clear blue skies as this taluka that proudly calls itself a city slid into collective mourning.

Baramati's political heart had fractured once before - when Ajit Pawar made his dramatic break from uncle and political mentor Sharad Pawar in July 2023. Yet on this Wednesday, the town closed ranks completely. While votes had diverged following the NCP split - with Sharad Pawar contesting the 2024 Lok Sabha polls and Ajit Pawar fighting assembly elections months later - genuine affection for the younger Pawar never wavered. Now, profound grief united the community beyond political calculations.

The Crash Site: A Scene of Devastation

Roads filled with emergency convoys, blaring sirens, and police pilots rushing toward Baramati airport. Meanwhile, the town's streets emptied of regular activity. Yellow police tape quickly ringed the crash site near the airport's tabletop runway, where the smell of aviation fuel hung heavy in the air.

First responders encountered scattered wreckage: the aircraft's tail section, then cables, an engine, and a tyre. Papers were strewn across the area - a testament to Pawar's reputation for working constantly, even while traveling between destinations.

Eyewitness Accounts and Community Response

Helicopters thudded into Baramati carrying VIPs and officials. Residents, party workers, and outsiders pressed against barriers, seeking information and bearing witness. "We saw the crash, the smoke, everything," recounted eyewitness Anita Atole. "When we heard Dada was aboard, we kept hoping against hope. It broke us completely when the confirmation came."

Back in town, doors locked as if protecting private grief. Katewadi, Pawar's native village, emptied as residents poured into Baramati to wait for his return. Many skipped meals and water throughout the day, their personal needs secondary to communal mourning.

The Man They Called "Dada"

Ajit Pawar, anointed as Baramati's political heir in 2024, had built his bond with constituents brick by brick over decades. People affectionately called him "Dada" - a term conveying both respect and familial connection.

"In Baramati, Dada is like god," said farmer Atul Khatmode, capturing the leader's stature. "He would roll down his car window, stop whenever needed, give a clear yes if work could be done, and an honest no if it couldn't. He wouldn't keep people hanging with false promises."

Legacy Beyond Politics and Generations

For Baramatikars, time did not merely stop on Wednesday; it transformed into memory, loyalty, and a collective promise to guard Dada's legacy beyond immediate politics, electoral calculations, and future generations.

"If Sharad Pawar laid the foundation, Dada raised the building," explained one resident, pointing to the roads, schools, and hospitals that dot Baramati's landscape. "He never cared about caste or religion when helping people," emphasized Shehbaz Bagwan, 23. "Who will solve Baramati's problems now?"

The Final Return Home

At 7.40pm, Ajit Pawar's body arrived at Vidya Pratishthan in a white ambulance, garlanded with flowers, its glass sides offering a clear view. Sons Jay and Parth walked solemnly beside the vehicle as it moved through streets now packed with mourners.

Crowds surged forward, some climbing trees for a better view, refusing to move despite police efforts to maintain order. "He hated wrong things - drunkenness, tobacco, dirt," recalled schoolteacher Ganesh Jagtap. "He was a perfectionist in everything. In Baramati, a leaf wouldn't move without his knowledge."

Students were sent home early. Work stopped completely across the town. "He always told us not to come to Mumbai for meetings," remembered businessman Ashok Patil. "Meet me in Baramati, he would say." Final rites have been scheduled for 11am Thursday.

Baramati is accustomed to precise timekeeping, shaped by agricultural cycles and political schedules. On this Wednesday, the town learned how loudly silence can tick when a heartbeat at its center suddenly stops.