“Aaj Mausam bada beimaan hai.”
What began as a Bollywood melody from a 1973 film became, in Malda’s charged political theatre of 2019, a biting metaphor for betrayal.
Loudspeakers mounted on modest four-wheel goods vehicles cruised through villages, first relaying Rahul Gandhi’s recorded attack on Mausam Noor for “changing colour,” and then seamlessly slipping into the song—mocking, memorable, and merciless.
Nearly seven years later, Congress leader Jairam Ramesh would revive the metaphor with a wry comment of his own: “Mausam badal raha hai.” The question now is whether this change in weather signals a genuine political shift—or merely another passing squall.
Mausam Noor’s political journey has never been detached from Malda’s most powerful legacy: the Khan Chowdhury family. Her decision in early 2019 to sever ties with the Congress and her maternal uncle Barkat Ghani Khan Chowdhury’s political lineage shook the district’s political core. The split within the palatial Chowdhury residence at Kotwali—long the epicentre of Malda politics—was not just familial; it was seismic. Close relatives became rivals, loyalties fractured, and the Congress’s once-unassailable dominance in Malda began to erode. The immediate beneficiary of this fragmentation, paradoxically, was neither the Congress nor the Trinamool Congress (TMC), but the BJP, which found space to expand amid the confusion.
Yet Mausam’s switch to the Trinamool did not yield instant rewards. Despite her candidature from Malda North in the 2019 Lok Sabha elections, voters who had twice elected her as a Congress MP rejected her Trinamool incarnation. The TMC failed to win either of Malda’s Parliamentary seats. The real dividend came later. In the 2021 Assembly elections, under Mausam’s leadership as district president, the Trinamool captured eight of the district’s 12 seats—reducing the Congress, which had won eight seats in 2016, to zero. The transformation was stark and undeniable.
Seven years later, the pendulum has swung again.
On Saturday, Mausam Noor—currently a Trinamool Rajya Sabha MP whose term ends in April—announced her return to the Congress. The timing is politically loaded: just ahead of the 2026 Assembly elections and at a moment when the Congress is desperate for revival in Bengal. Jairam Ramesh’s quip captured the mood, but it also raised an uncomfortable question: can the return of one leader, however symbolic, alter entrenched political realities?
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Opinion in Malda is sharply divided. Political observers suggest that Mausam’s exit could create turbulence for the ruling party, particularly in rural pockets where her influence remains intact. Some Trinamool leaders privately concede that her presence still matters, that her name alone can sway voters in certain villages. Others, however, argue that she had gradually withdrawn from active grassroots politics during her Rajya Sabha tenure, weakening her direct connect with the electorate. To them, her departure is less a loss than a relief.
The Congress, unsurprisingly, sees opportunity. District vice-president Mottakin Alam argues that Malda politics still revolves around Barkat Ghani Khan’s name and that the people’s faith in his successors endures. For the party, Mausam’s return is framed as reconciliation rather than reversal—a homecoming after a political misjudgement. Alongside leaders like Mousam’s cousin Isha Khan Chowdhury, she is projected as a central figure for 2026.
Mausam herself presents a carefully balanced narrative. She speaks of an “invisible divide” within her family after joining the Trinamool, of public desire to see the Khan Chowdhury family reunited, and of her own responsibility to uphold her uncle’s legacy. She expresses gratitude to Mamata Banerjee for the opportunities given to her, insists that her departure will not weaken the Trinamool, and claims that the Congress alone will emerge stronger.
The Trinamool’s official response is far less forgiving. District spokesperson Ashish Kundu accuses Mausam of opportunism, pointing to instances where Mamata Banerjee refrained from fielding candidates out of respect for Mausam’s family. “Mausam’s silence on issues like the NRC, highlights the proximity of her defection to the end of her Rajya Sabha term, and that personal ambition—not ideology—drives her moves,” he said.
More damningly, Kundu challenges her invocation of Barkat Ghani Khan’s legacy, noting the irony of aligning with a Congress that is now allied with the CPI(M), a party Barkatda fiercely opposed.
At its core, Mausam Noor’s return exposes a deeper tension in Malda’s politics: the clash between legacy and credibility. While names still matter, voters are no longer blind to inconsistency. Political memory in the district is long, and trust—once fractured—is hard to restore.
As the 2026 elections approach, Malda watches the skies once more. The weather may indeed be changing. But whether this shift brings renewal, turbulence, or just another brief storm will depend not on slogans or songs—but on whether voters believe this change is finally here to stay.
By Pranab Mondal
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