An “Imagined “ Open Letter From Uddhav Thackeray To His Deserting Shiv Sainiks

An Open Letter to My Shiv Sainiks  

From Uddhav Thackeray

My dear Shiv Sainiks, my colleagues, my brothers,

Today I write to you not as a Chief Minister or as a party president, but as a son who watched his father build this movement stone by stone on the streets of Mumbai. Balasaheb did not give us a party built on chairs and portfolios. He gave us a roar. A roar for Marathi pride, for the soil of Maharashtra, for a saffron that never bowed. 

I see that roar fading in many eyes today. I see letters of resignation, I see doors closing quietly at night, I see the same hands that once raised slogans of “Jai Bhavani, Jai Shivaji” now reaching for other banners. I have no anger left. Only a heaviness that I cannot explain. 

What can I say to you? I was never a man of rallies and fiery speeches like my father. Balasaheb could silence a crowd with one glance. I only knew how to sit with you, share a cup of tea, and listen. I thought loyalty was built in those small moments. I was wrong. Power has its own language, and I do not speak it fluently. I tried to hold our house together with trust instead of threats. Perhaps that was my failure. 

I remember the days when we had nothing but Balasaheb’s photograph and a flag. Workers would walk miles just to stand outside Matoshree for a darshan. No one asked what post they would get. They came because they believed this was more than politics. It was dharma. It was duty. Today that belief feels fragile. I cannot blame you for choosing what you think is survival. I am only a son trying to protect what my father left in my care, and I feel it slipping through my fingers like sand.

If leaving me means you will keep your seats, your workers, your future safe, then I will not stop you. A father does not chain his children to his own dreams. Balasaheb taught us courage, not compulsion. He taught us to stand tall even when we stood alone. I am standing alone now. The corridors of Vidhan Bhavan feel emptier, the walls of Shiv Sena Bhavan feel quieter. I have no army left to send, no promises left that will sound convincing. All I have is the name my father gave me and the shame that I could not keep his family together.

Do not think I curse you. I pray that wherever you go, you remember where you began. Remember the saffron you wore when no one was watching. Remember the lanes of Mumbai, the farmers of Vidarbha, the workers of Thane who believed a son of Balasaheb would not compromise. If I failed them, the failure is mine alone. 

I am tired, I will not lie. I am tired of counting who stayed and who left. Tired of explaining a legacy I did not create but was only entrusted to carry. Yet a son does not abandon his father’s house just because the roof leaks. He sits under the rain and waits for the sky to clear.

I do not know what tomorrow holds. I do not know if this letter will reach your hearts or only your desks. But I know one thing Balasaheb taught me: a true Shiv Sainik never dies, he only waits for the right time to rise again.

I will return again.

Your fellow Sainik,  
Uddhav Thackeray