‘Daddy’ watching, but a nephew returns home

‘‘I will get at least one vote from here,’’ Ahir boomed.

So, to much fanfare and thumping of drums, Ahir walked through the fortress-like gates and into childhood memories. ‘‘I’ve grown up here,’’ he reminded those listening. ‘‘And now I’ve come to seek your blessings.’’

He played to the gallery insistently, praying at the Maruti temple, feeding a cow in the cowshed, then proceeding to go door to door asking for votes. But though gangster-turned-politician Gawli steadfastly refused to acknowledge his nephew’s homecoming, his influence was clearly everywhere. ‘‘I cannot say anything about him,’’ whispered 55-year-old Sindhutai, a resident for many years. The jig lasted 30 minutes.

And then, Gawli emerged. ‘‘I don’t think my blessings will reach him. They only reach good people,’’ he said airily. He also rufused to recall any fond memories of Ahir’s childhood in Dagdi Chawl. ‘‘What I did was just my duty,’’ he dismissed.