Maharashtra’s redoubtable street fighter

‘‘Despite my age, people trust my capability. It is the secret of my youthful outlook,’’ says the lady with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Popularly known as Latniwali Bai, as she made the rolling pin her signature asset for demonstrations, it is extremely easy to love her. Few people years younger than her can match her brisk walk, or her quick wit and charm. ‘‘When bureaucrats and ministers hear my name, they say ‘baap re’. I still make them nervous, but it helps get my work done,’’ Rangnekar laughs.

A member of the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation for almost 21 years and a member of Parliament once, Rangnekar’s journey as an activist began in 1942 when she participated in the Quit India movement. She belongs to the politically active Randive family, who are also residents of Matunga. While one brother Chintaman Tribak Randive was a well-known Congress leader, another sibling Balchandra Randive was a prominent CPI(M) leader. Her sister Kusum Randive, a Pune resident, carries two bullets in her legs as a legacy of the 1942 demonstrations.

It was during those heady days that Rangnekar met Pandurang Bhaskar Rangnekar, who would later become her husband. ‘‘I met this tall and strapping man, also involved in the freedom movement, when he visited my home. Our ideology brought us together. There was no romance or anything. We met at meetings, and loved each other. We got married in 1945,’’ says Rangnekar. At 91, Pandurang shares his wife’s enthusiasm and dynamism.

During the course of her protests, Rangnekar has spent almost 21 years in prisons across the state. Her anti-price rise latna (rolling pin) morchas were once legendary. Every woman who participated had to bring along own rolling pin. The slogan-shouting, latna-waving brigade posed a formidable challenge to many a state government.

Now a days a majority of her daily visitors comprise students seeking school or college admissions. Castigating the government for not strengthening the education infrastructure in Maharashtra, Rangnekar warns: ‘‘The aspirations of students have to be met, otherwise student suicides may become a headache for the government.’’

Another thing she is disheartened by is the death of the workers’ movement in Maharashtra. ‘‘Women were very active till the ’80s as many of them worked in the mills. Modern machinery displaced them and slowly the workers’ movements toned down. Today, few women participate in any movement,’’ Rangnekar laments. Still, she herself continues to have a considerable woman following.

Rangnekar is also disillusioned with today’s politics, where leaders are interested in only positions and gain. Offered several political positions, Rangnekar has discarded all. She is firm: she won’t share even a drink, including water, with any bureaucrat or politician. ‘‘I will eat and drink with those who live in the slums but not with the ones who make life a living hell for them.’’

Retirement does not figure in her scheme of things, and few would advise her the same. Despite all these years, Rangnekar hasn’t lost either her fire or her will-power. There’s another way the 83-year-old keeps young: dieting.

Dressed in a Bengal cotton sari, Rangnekar confesses with an impish smile: ‘‘I maintain my figure on a steady diet consisting of dal, vegetables and buttermilk. I haven’t eaten rice, chapatis or even bread for the past seven years.’’

A diseased body, she adds, leads to a weak mind. ‘‘Since I am not ready for retirement, I must maintain myself. I feel like a 38-year old.’’