Maharashtra’s land registration machinery, one of the busiest in the country, is again in the spotlight. A land deal in Pune’s Mundhwa area has turned into a cautionary tale about how laws meant to protect marginalised communities can be weakened by lapses in due diligence, outdated processes, and the growing clout of influential buyers.
The story begins more than a century ago, when the British granted 44 acres in Mundhwa to 26 Mahar families as Watan land. These were hereditary grants in exchange for essential village services, like, policing, carrying messages, measuring fields, lighting torches for night travel, and maintaining sanitation. After Independence, the Mahar Watan Abolition Act of 1950 converted such land into regular holdings but imposed key safeguards: any sale or transfer needed prior government approval.
That safeguard seems to have failed spectacularly this year.
In May, 43.3 acres of that original Mundhwa land — valued today at around Rs 1,800 crore — were allegedly sold for only Rs 300 crore to Amadea Enterprises LLP, a company in which Parth Pawar, son of Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar, is a director. The seller acted under a power of attorney, and the transaction allegedly carried out without the required approvals for restricted Watan land. The deal also received a stamp duty waiver of Rs 21 crore, adding to the controversy.
Two FIRs followed, naming Pune businesswoman Sheetal Tejwani and several government officials. Yet the purchaser, despite having a majority stake in the buying company, has not been named so far. Predictably, the episode has set off a political storm.
Ajit Pawar has publicly defended his son and shifted attention to the registration office. He has questioned how the sub-registrar processed the transaction despite multiple legal barriers. “How did the individual in the sub-registrar’s office register the deed? What prompted him to do the wrong job?” he asked, noting that the Chief Minister has ordered a probe. The State Revenue Department has suspended sub-registrar Ravindra Taru and previously suspended a tehsildar linked to the case.
The case raises a larger question: why do such deals keep slipping through the cracks in Maharashtra?
Part of the answer lies in the fragmented and often overstretched nature of the registration system. Sub-registrars handle thousands of documents each month, and their scrutiny relies heavily on manual checks, legacy paperwork, and limited verification technology. In cases involving older categories of land, such as Watan, Inam, or ceiling land, the rules are layered, complex, and often poorly documented. Unless an officer examines each detail with care, it becomes easy for a sale to proceed even when restrictions clearly apply.
Another part of the problem is the imbalance of power between buyers and sellers. In many deals involving valuable land, sellers are intermediaries, power-of-attorney holders, or people unfamiliar with legal frameworks. Buyers, on the other hand, come armed with legal teams and financial influence. The system relies on sub-registrars to act as a final checkpoint, but scandals like Mundhwa show how vulnerable that checkpoint can be.
Technology upgrades have helped. Digitised records, online registration appointments, and computerised indexes, but the core issue remains institutional. The registration department has historically focused more on revenue collection than vigilant enforcement. When oversight fails, land meant for disadvantaged communities becomes easy prey.
The Mundhwa case is also a reminder of how colonial-era land categories continue to shape modern Maharashtra. Watan lands were created to secure the loyalty of village functionaries in a feudal setup. Post-independence laws were designed to prevent their dispossession. Every time such land changes hands without proper scrutiny, it signals a breakdown of those protections.
As investigations continue, the controversy has renewed calls for stronger verification protocols, clearer digital tagging of restricted lands, and independent audits of high-value transactions. Until those reforms are in place, Maharashtra’s registration system will remain vulnerable and so will the communities it was designed to protect.
The Mundhwa dispute may end up in court, in politics, or both. But its real legacy lies in exposing how a single registration entry can unravel decades of intent behind land laws, and why the state can no longer afford a system that looks the other way.
