Pawan kalyan blasts tamil nadu’s hindi double talk

On 14 March 2025, Andhra Pradesh deputy chief minister Pawan Kalyan lit into Tamil Nadu’s anti-Hindi stance during his Jana Sena formation day speech in Pithapuram, calling out what he sees as a glaring hypocrisy. “Tamil Nadu continuously rejects Hindi, stating they do not want it,” he said, his voice cutting through the crowd of five lakh supporters. “But then why do they dub Tamil films in Hindi? They seek money from Hindi-speaking states like Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Chhattisgarh, and rely on workers from Bihar. Yet they claim to despise Hindi. How is this fair?” It’s a jab that lands personal—he shared how he faced discrimination studying in Chennai, a sting that still lingers.
He didn’t stop there. “When we speak, they accuse us of insulting Sanskrit. They claim Hindi is being forced upon the South. But aren’t all Indian languages part of our culture?” Kalyan asked, pacing the stage, his frustration palpable. He’d greeted the sea of Jana Sainiks in Telugu, Tamil, Marathi, and Kannada—a nod to his push for unity. “India needs multiple languages, including Tamil, not just two,” he argued, flipping the script on Tamil Nadu’s DMK-led resistance to the Centre’s three-language policy. “Is India a piece of cake to be divided whenever someone gets angry? If anyone attempts to undermine the integrity of India, there are crores of people like me who will rise to protect it.” The crowd roared, banners fluttering in the dusk.
Kalyan’s 12-year journey with Jana Sena framed his fire. “I’ve faced abuses, losses in my personal life, to make this party what it is,” he reflected, tracing its arc from a fledgling outfit in 2014 to a coalition kingmaker in Andhra’s NDA government. He might’ve touted their 100% strike rate in 2024’s polls—21 assembly seats, two Lok Sabha wins—or laid out a roadmap for 2029, as he’s done before. “Nobody can dare divide North and South,” he insisted, circling back to Tamil Nadu’s rupee symbol row with a dig: “People at the top should think of the impact of their acts.” It’s Pawan unfiltered—part nostalgia, part defiance, all grit.
This wasn’t just a speech; it was a gauntlet tossed. His brother Chiranjeevi tweeted awe at the “vast sea of people” and Pawan’s emotional pull—mesmerizing, he called it. Kalyan’s riff on linguistic harmony, spiked with his Tamil Nadu takedown, stokes a bigger fight: can India’s diversity hold without these tugs-of-war? His words—raw, rooted in his Chennai days—hang heavy as Holi nears, daring the crowd to wonder who’s really playing fair.