It was meant to be a quiet visit — a respectful tribute to a late local leader. But as Y.S. Jagan Mohan Reddy set out from his Tadepalli residence on Tuesday morning, the road to Rentapalla became something much more: a testimony to unwavering loyalty, raw emotion, and the pulse of public sentiment.
What should’ve taken under two hours stretched into an eight-hour-long journey. Not because of logistics, but because people wouldn’t let him pass so easily. From village after village, fans, followers, and party workers — many holding flags, some with flowers, others with just folded hands — lined the way, hoping to catch a glimpse of the leader they still call “our Jagan anna.”
Police had tried to keep things under control. Strict restrictions were imposed — only a limited convoy allowed, 25 checkposts set up, roads barricaded. But emotion rarely obeys orders. From youngsters leaping across fields, to elderly women waiting patiently by the roadside, people found their own routes to join the convoy. As one local said with a smile, “Barricades can’t block affection.”
By the time Jagan reached Rentapalla at 5 PM, the village had transformed. The narrow lanes buzzed with chants, and the air was thick with a sense of occasion. The crowd didn’t need speeches. His very presence seemed to say enough — a symbol of connection that politics alone cannot explain.
Jagan’s purpose was simple yet deeply personal — to unveil the statue of YSRCP leader and deputy sarpanch Korlakunta Nagamalleswara Rao, and to console the grieving family. But the event spiraled into something more powerful — a silent protest against the restrictions, and a reminder that popularity isn’t always measured in polls, but in people who walk miles just to say ‘we’re with you’.
