'A poor candidate was given a chance so that the concerns of ordinary, needy citizens could be represented.'
On the scenic Old Mumbai-Pune Highway, National Highway 48, traffic slows along the Lonavala-Khandala bends. Tourists pause for tea, corn, chikki -- and guavas. For ten years now, one stall here -- at the scenic Battery Hill -- belonged to Bhagyashree Jagtap, who spent her days weighing fruit, calling out prices, and listening.
She listened to customers, to neighbours, to passers-by with small worries and large grievances. What she did not imagine -- by her own admission -- was that one day those conversations would get her elected to a public office.
"No, I never imagined it," says the newly-minted muncipal councillor from Lonavala as a scheduled tribe candidate. "But surprisingly, with the support of my children, my family, and my community, I was given the opportunity to contest the election."
That opportunity came when Ajit Pawar's Nationalist Congress Party decided to field a candidate who looked like the ward she would represent. In Lonavala -- one of Maharashtra's most visited hill stations -- plush bungalows and rustic village homes exist side by side. Behind the postcard views are neighbourhoods without reliable water, roads that stop abruptly, and electricity poles that never arrived. Jagtap knew those lanes because she walked them.
"There are many issues in the village," she explains. "Some neighbourhoods are very small, some are larger. In certain areas there are proper roads and electricity poles, while in others there are none. These are the issues I have seen and want to work on."
A Campaign On Foot
Though Jagtap's husband Mahadev owns a motorbike, she often walks. "I usually walk. I don't use a bike. Whenever I get time, I go out and meet people. They come to me with their concerns," she says.
In a ward with more than 4,000 voters, that habit mattered. It turned a campaign into a series of household conversations, stitched together by familiarity and trust.
On counting day, that trust translated into a decisive win. She was elected to the Lonavala Municipal Council with a thumping majority, becoming a councillor without leaving her stall behind. She returned to work almost immediately.
"My voters trusted me and voted for me. I will not betray that trust. Whatever problems they face, I will try to resolve them," she says. "In Maharashtra, we believe in the adage 'jinku kiva maru (either we win or die fighting for victory)'. Earlier, my life was difficult. But when I felt I had been given a chance, I decided to serve the people. The public responded positively and supported me strongly."
Why Jagtap's Candidacy Mattered
The symbolism of her candidacy was not accidental. She credits Sunil Shelke, the NCP MLA from Maval, for insisting that an ordinary, working woman should be the face of the ward.
"Sunil Anna Shelke deliberately chose a candidate from among ordinary, poor people so that their voice could reach the council," she says. "The people decided in their hearts to support that idea, and they elected me with a big majority."
Jagtap defeated her nearest rival, the Bharatiya Janata Party's Rachna Sinkar, by 800 votes, securing 1,468 votes.
She also acknowledges the political backing of Ajit Pawar, Maharashtra's deputy chief minister and NCP leader. "Ajit Dada and Sunil Anna Shelke's message was clear: Representation should not be limited to the well-connected. It should rise from the ground up," says Jagtap, whose December 22 victory has created a sort of sensation that the busy hill town is not much used to.
"Ajit Dada's party has given opportunities to people who were never given a chance before," she says. "Our leader should not be seen as focusing only on the wealthy. A poor candidate was given a chance so that the concerns of ordinary, needy citizens could be represented."
Work Does Not Stop with Power
Becoming a councillor did not mean abandoning daily labour. "My responsibility is to solve people's problems. Becoming a councillor does not mean I will shut down my (guava) business," Jagtap insists. "I will continue working, I will go to the municipal office, and I will also ensure that citizens' issues are addressed. I will not sit idle at home."
She speaks with the same practicality about the infrastructure in the hill town. Water scarcity, a long-standing complaint, is beginning to ease. "Yes, there were water problems, but much of the work has now been completed. Water tanks are being constructed, and the situation is improving," she says.
Ask her about the money she earns from her modest guava stall, and she refuses to divulge much. "I can't really say that. Earnings depend on circumstances and luck, and they change," she replies, adding that the guava trade is seasonal.
A Family's Quiet Ambition
Behind Jagtap stands her husband Mahadev Jagtap, who speaks with pride about their daughter's ambitions. The couple want their daughter to become an IPS officer. "She has never failed a class since Class 1 and is currently in Class 10. To focus on her studies, she is staying with Bhagyashree's mother in Beed district," says Mahadev.
Bhagyashree and Mahadev belong to the scheduled tribe community, a fact that shapes their sense of what this victory means. Opportunities to convert hard work into a better life -- especially for children -- have historically been rare. For them, this election is not just a personal milestone; it is a breach in a wall.
What She Wants to Fix
From her stall on NH48, Bhagyashree spoke with a list that is strikingly specific. She wants villagers to gain ownership of their houses and land, reliable drinking water, and educational facilities that make aspiration possible rather than remain just dreams. These are not slogans; they are items drawn from years of listening and based out of her own experience of raising two children -- a daughter and son, who is in Class 8.
When asked whether she felt confident of winning when she received the ticket, her answer is characteristically grounded. "These things are not in our control. One should not depend on such thoughts. We focused on honest work and nothing else," she says.
Of Jagtap's Pride And Dreams
In Lonavala, where visitors pass through and locals stay behind, Jagtap's story says something old-fashioned and urgent at once: Democracy works best when representation looks like the represented. A woman who sells guavas by day and studies files by night understands both sides of the book -- what policy promises and what daily life demands.
Her stall remains where it has always been, on the old highway, framed by hills. The guavas are fresh. The conversations continue.
Only now, when people stop to talk, they are speaking to a Councillor who still walks the ward, still listens first, and still believes that honest work -- done publicly and persistently -- can lift a community.
Ask her if her status as a councillor would make her feel awkward selling guavas and she says, "I take pride in selling guavas. This is what I have done for the last ten years and this is what I will do till my children complete their education."
Pride, in Jagtap's vocabulary, is about dignity of labour and continuity. Power should not erase who you are; it should expand what you can do for others.
Perhaps, one day soon, Jagtap's hard work and pride in the dignity of her occupation will also carry her daughter into the esteemed Indian Police Service.