Sule’s Hunger Strike Shakes Up Road Repair Deadlock

The usually sleepy corridors of the Pune District Collector’s Office turned charged on April 9, 2025. Supriya Sule, the vocal NCP MP known for putting her rural constituents’ problems at the center, wasn’t there for official business—she was on a hunger strike. Her demand? Fix a battered 1.5-km stretch connecting Nasrapur to Baneshwar Temple in Bhor taluka, a route pockmarked by hazardous potholes that had become a local nightmare for commuters and pilgrims alike.

This was not a new grievance. Residents and devotees had raised their voices for months, complaining to authorities about the treacherous drive to the well-known Baneshwar Temple. Their patience wore thin as repairs kept getting postponed, despite a ₹900 crore road project being touted for the area. The road’s daily hazards—damaged suspensions, skids during monsoon, and the constant risk for two-wheelers—went unresolved. Fed up with bureaucratic indifference, Sule took the matter into her own hands, sitting on the concrete with supporters outside the administration offices and vowing not to eat until officials promised quick action in writing.

Her hunger protest lasted seven hours. Ordinary fasts rarely make headlines, but this one crossed social and political boundaries, drawing the attention of state authorities. Finally, officials arrived with a written commitment: work would start immediately. Sule sipped a glass of fruit juice, breaking her fast, but she didn’t mince words. If the repairs weren’t done by May 20, she warned, she’d lead a community effort under the Employment Guarantee Scheme—literally picking up shovels alongside Bhor’s residents to fill the potholes themselves.

Frustration Boils Over as Promises Stall

This pressure isn’t without backstory. Sule had already postponed an earlier protest in March after the Pune Metropolitan Region Development Authority gave “assurances” that repairs would start within a week. Weeks passed, but potholes remained, and promises faded into the usual silence. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar initially defused the situation, suggesting Sule tap into her MP funds for quick repair work. His comment wasn’t warmly received—it put the state’s political blame game on display. Eventually, he ordered his own bureaucrats to get moving on the repair work, recognizing the mounting backlash.

For villagers and temple-goers, this entire episode is more than political spectacle. The road isn’t some forgotten backroad—it’s a lifeline for pilgrim traffic, local commerce, and medical emergencies. In the sweltering heat, the hunger strike brought rare attention to the obstacles ordinary people face every day while politicians and officials volley responsibility. Sule’s warning still hangs in the air: she’ll return, not just with slogans, but with real work, if the repairs stall again. For now, the ball is squarely in the administration’s court—and locals are watching every move.