India’s Soul Under Siege: When Will We Stop Stabbing Ourselves?
Brothers and sisters of Bharat, hear this and weep: a bus conductor, Mahadev Hukkeri, lies battered in a hospital bed, his crime? Not speaking Marathi in Belagavi.
A Kannadiga activist, Jayavant Nidagalkar, nurses wounds for daring to speak his mother tongue.
Buses stand still, borders turn into battlelines, and our sacred unity—forged in the blood of Shivaji Maharaj and countless warriors—crumbles under the weight of petty tongues.
Are we still the children of a thousand-year struggle, or fools dancing to the tune of divide-and-rule puppeteers?
This isn’t just news. It’s a dagger in the heart of every Hindu, every spiritual soul who knows Bharat is more than a map—it’s a dharma, a living flame.
Yet, here we are, in 2025, watching Marathas and Kannadigas claw at each other like stray dogs over scraps, while the ghosts of colonial overlords laugh from their graves.
The Belagavi Flashpoint: Facts at a Glance
| What Happened | When | Where | Who’s Involved | Outcome |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| KSRTC conductor Mahadev Hukkeri beaten | Feb 21, 2025, 12:30 PM | Sulebhavi, Belagavi | Marathi-speaking youths, conductor | 5 arrested, POCSO case against conductor |
| Bus services suspended | Feb 24, 2025 | Karnataka-Maharashtra border | KSRTC, MSRTC, state governments | Interstate travel halted |
| Kannada activist Jayavant Nidagalkar assaulted | Feb 24, 2025 evening | Jamboti, Belagavi | Pro-Marathi attackers | Hospitalized, case pending |
| Protests erupt | Feb 25, 2025 | Belagavi | Karnataka Rakshana Vedike (KRV), police | Leader Praveen Shetty detained |
| Ministers react | Feb 24-25, 2025 | Karnataka | Ramalinga Reddy, G Parameshwara, HDK | Calls for peace, accusations fly |
A Nation Gutted by Its Own Hands
Picture this: Mahadev Hukkeri, a simple man doing his job, issuing tickets on a dusty Belagavi bus.
A girl demands he speak Marathi.
He can’t.
She calls her thugs.
They swarm him—slapping, kicking, cursing—because his tongue doesn’t bend to their will.
Fifty of them, against one.
He pleads, they sneer.
Days later, a Kannadiga activist is pummeled in Jamboti for the same sin: speaking Kannada in Bharat.
What’s next?
Will we beat a Tamil for not chanting in Bengali?
A Gujarati for not bowing in Punjabi?
This isn’t progress. It’s a relapse into madness. Our ancestors didn’t spill blood for a Bharat where a conductor’s bones break over syllables.
Shivaji Maharaj didn’t storm forts so his Marathas could brawl with Kannadigas over bus seats. Every punch thrown in Belagavi is a spit on their graves—a betrayal of the saffron flag, the Vedas, the very soul of Sanatan Dharma that binds us.
Divide and Rule: The Enemy Never Left
Let’s not kid ourselves. This isn’t about language—it’s about power. The British mastered it: pit Hindu against Hindu, region against region, and watch the empire stand tall.
They’re gone, but their playbook lives in the shadows—wielded by politicians, goons, and cowards who feast on our division. Karnataka Rakshana Vedike marches, Maharashtra Ekikaran Samiti threatens—what’s the endgame? A fractured Bharat where every state is an island, every tongue a weapon?
Wake up! The forces that dread our unity are grinning. They don’t want a strong, spiritual India rising as one—they want us bleeding, distracted, weak. Every time a Maratha blacks a Karnataka bus or a Kannadiga trashes a Maharashtra driver, we hand them victory on a platter.
Freedom’s Price: Are We Worthy?
Freedom of speech, they say. Freedom to live, to work, to breathe. But what’s the point if we use it to choke each other? A Maratha in Germany wouldn’t thrash a German for not knowing Marathi. A Kannadiga in Russia wouldn’t smash a Russian’s face for skipping Kannada. So why here? Why now? Are we so small, so lost, that we’d rather burn our own house than build it?
If Karnataka demands Kannada fluency at its gates, if Maharashtra locks out non-Marathi voices, we’re not states anymore—we’re nations within a nation, carving borders with fists and hate. Is this the legacy we leave for our kids—a Bharat where a bus ride ends in a hospital bed?
The Verdict: Anti-National Thugs Must Pay
Enough. This isn’t a spat—it’s a crime against Bharat Mata. Anyone who raises a hand over language, who splits us by state or tongue, isn’t a patriot—they’re a traitor. Beating a conductor for not speaking Marathi? That’s not pride; it’s poison. Assaulting a Kannadiga for honoring his roots? That’s not culture; it’s cowardice. These acts shred our solidarity, mock our history, and defy the divine unity of Hindu dharma.
Make it law: attacking someone over language is anti-national. Non-bailable. Harsh. No mercy. Let the punishment scream louder than their fists—let it echo from Belagavi to the Himalayas. We can’t let this rot fester. Our kings didn’t die for this. Our gods didn’t bless this.
A Plea to the Soul of Bharat
Hindus of the world, seekers of truth, listen: this isn’t just Belagavi’s fight. It’s ours. Every temple bell, every mantra, every drop of ghee in the homa fire calls us to rise above this filth. We’re not Marathas or Kannadigas first—we’re Bharatiyas, heirs to a civilization that stunned the world with its oneness. Let’s reclaim it. Reject the puppeteers. Embrace the stranger on the bus, not the thug who beats him.
Shivaji’s sword wasn’t for Maratha alone—it was for Bharat. Let’s wield that spirit, not against each other, but against the real enemy: division. Because if we don’t, the next tear won’t just be Mahadev Hukkeri’s—it’ll be ours, pooling at the feet of a nation we failed.
