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SUDDENLY, a whole lot seems to make sense in Supriya Sule’s life. She’s 38, claims to have a great marriage with her techie-businessman husband Sadanand Sule, has two kids, has been anointed a political princess with her induction into the NCP, is prospective inheritor of her father Sharad Pawar’s political legacy, and is tipped to become a Rajya Sabha MP next month.

She manages several vanguard schools for adivasi girls and suburban children, is involved in youth wings and new wave self-help groups for women in western Maharashtra, and is beginning to discover that self-realisation and political zeal can mix with nurturing a family and a flourishing career.

At least this is what Sule— Supriyatai, sister, to her colleagues, admirers, fans, enthusiasts, groupies—would like us to believe as we zip through the Mumbai-Pune Expressway on a five-hour dawn ride to her first major public meeting in Indapur, near her father’s pocketborough of Baramati.

It does not take long to discover Sule is achingly modest and trendily PC (politically correct), a Deccan BoBo (bourgeois-bohemian), born to political royalty and given to cutting-edge philanthropy.

“I discovered quite early I was born for this life,” she says breezily, from the front of the car. “I think anyone who is sensitive, observant and conscious of one’s surroundings will want to do something. Of course, it helps I come from a political family, I would be foolish to deny I have privileges because of who my father is. But the party can help tremendously to promote my causes of education and health. The party will give me direction. Anyway, I have to live up to the expectations of my father and party too.”

Well, ‘Daddy’ is the party boss and the party HQ is in the house, but if Sule refers to the party like some Soviet-style apparatchik, the blurred lines are made agonisingly clear at the festive venue of her meeting in the courtyard of the Shri Samarth Vigyan Mandal, a school for the deaf and dumb.

The Pawars have kept the programme—the donation of an ambulance—non-political, keenly aware of the pitfalls of thrusting a dynastic heir on the nascent party just yet.

As trumpets blow and drums roll, Sule is ushered into the colourful pandal and on to the dais by women in traditional Narayanpet and Paithani sarees. She gathers the jumbo-sized garlands in mock horror and chastises all those who fall at her feet with stern warnings.

As the speeches hail her father’s and her contribution, Sule is visibly self-conscious and embarrassed by the plaudits, but openly irked only when an over-enthusiastic functionary praises the Pawar family for carrying on the dreams of “Pandit Nehru and Priya-darshini Indira”.

“I have come here with the hope we can make a difference,” she says to the appreciative crowd. Two teachers, Jyoti Bhonsle and Urmila Kamble, graciously translate Marathi for us. “It is a shame that after 60 years of Independence, we still struggle for food, education and good health,” Sule says, reminding them of the NCP-Congress divide. She outlines her objectives for development and empowerment—her twin goals of education and promotion of self-help groups.

“Progress begins at home, so it is important to ensure the mother participates in community development. When she cooks for the mid-day meals, she not only earns a living but also ensures the children go to school, as they are taken care of there. It is women and the youth who will carry on our dreams,” she ends her speech, and there is a collective buzz of approval from the attentive and orderly gathering.

An Early Start

SO, how did this BoBo Babe, who once swung from discos to bistros, get fired by this neo-fellow-feeling and speedy benefaction? Sule has led the charmed life of political royals—a graduate of micro-biology, she found a husband when her parents arranged her marriage with Sadanand Sule.

“We spent a year together before we decided to get married,” she says. “It was not as if I had walked in with a tray of chai and poha and my marriage was fixed,” she grimaces.

Supriya moved to California with her husband and spent five years there. She attempted post-graduate study in water pollution at the University of California, Berkeley, but abandoned it a year later, and then worked in a landscaping company.

Later, she moved with her husband to Indonesia. “I was the perfect expat wife and I enjoyed every moment with my kids, husband and friends,” she says unabashedly. “I played mah-jong every afternoon, went to museums and clubs, and learnt to appreciate family life and values.

“Today, my husband runs a legal portal in Mumbai, has a software business, a travel company and shares in restaurants like Indigo in the city.’’

Supriya is clearly thrilled and energised by the thronging crowds as she weaves her way out. “I am genuinely passionate about my work,” she says intensely, “but to improve things, we’ve got to have accountability. Everyone in public service—NGOs, government officials, politicians—has to be accountable. Let’s not criticise or blame anybody anymore, let’s get on with our job, and make it right.”

In a Hurry

THE Pawar legatee wants to be a Powerhouse Putri., she is ambitious, driven, purposeful and resourceful. For starters, in her education-for-all spree, Supriya has tried to bring together all those in the field to exchange ideas and co-ordinate efforts for maximum benefits.

Two months ago, she organised an interaction with educationists from 700 schools across the state in Mumbai, gushes Vijay Kanhekar, a teacher from Parbani, near Aurangabad, and they are working on a disability rights development group for ‘inclusive education’, a pet project, and a sericulture programme for the women’s self-help groups. “We have to replicate, not duplicate,” is a Supriya mantra.

Supriya is running late but she has some humdrum political obligations before her—rushing to appreciate Indapur Vidyalaya’s new grounds, inaugurating the Neelkant Clinic in the bustling bazaar and visiting a party leader’s home. “Chala, chala, chala (hurry, hurry, hurry)”, she says, before leaping into the SUV for her next meeting at Baramati, 75 km away. She will address students at the family’s new enterprise, the Vidya Vikas Pratishthan, a sprawling network of schools and technical colleges.

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