In a harrowing week for Maharashtra, two separate murders have stunned communities and reignited debates about the deadly consequences of family disputes and unchecked emotions. In Pune's Kalakhadak area, a young woman's life was cut short by her boyfriend in a crime of passion. Meanwhile, in the quiet village of Miri near Nashik, a grandmother's brutal killing by her own grandson has left residents reeling and authorities piecing together a story of greed, resentment, and deep-seated family strife.
The first tragedy unfolded on Saturday, October 11, 2025, in Pune, where 26-year-old Mary Mallesh Telugu, a resident of Dehu Road, met a violent end at the hands of her boyfriend, Dilawar Singh, aged 25. According to police reports cited by local news outlets, the couple had been in a romantic relationship for several months, but their bond had become increasingly fraught with mistrust and arguments. The relationship, once full of promise, ended in a shocking act of violence that has left the Kalakhadak community shaken.
Authorities say that on that fateful Saturday afternoon, Dilawar took Mary to a lodge in Kalakhadak. There, the situation escalated when Dilawar checked Mary's mobile phone and discovered photos of her with another man. Consumed by jealousy and anger, he lost control. The couple reportedly shared a cake, but what should have been a sweet gesture quickly turned sinister. Using the same knife from the cake, along with an iron plate he had brought, Dilawar attacked Mary, inflicting multiple stab wounds. She died on the spot from her severe injuries, as reported by police investigators.
What happened next was as chilling as the crime itself. Late that evening, Dilawar called the Kondhwa police station and confessed to the murder. Realizing the gravity of the situation, Kondhwa police immediately alerted their counterparts at Wakad police station. Officers rushed to the lodge, where they found Mary lying in a pool of blood. The murder weapons—a knife and an iron plate—were recovered at the scene.
Mary's death sent shockwaves through the Kalakhadak area, with local residents expressing disbelief and fear. The police registered a murder case at the Wakad police station and launched a full investigation, including a postmortem examination. Senior officers are now delving into the background of the accused and the couple's history, hoping to understand the full sequence of events that led to such a tragic outcome. As one local official put it, "What began as a love affair has ended in a horrific act of violence—a grim reminder of how suspicion and uncontrolled anger can destroy lives in moments."
Just as Pune was grappling with the aftermath of this crime, another, even older wound was reopened in Nashik. The Pathardi police of Ahilyanagar announced the arrest of 30-year-old Sachin Maindad, who confessed to the murder of his 75-year-old grandmother, Kisnabai Maindad. This case, which had remained unsolved for five months, has exposed the dark undercurrents of family discord and financial disputes that can fester quietly behind closed doors.
The story began on the night of May 6, 2025, when Kisnabai was killed in her home in Miri village. Her body was discovered two days later by a neighbor, sent to check on her after her daughter, Chhaya Khose, was unable to reach her by phone. The scene was gruesome: Kisnabai had been stoned to death and her body set on fire, bearing both burn marks and blunt force injuries. Inspector Vilas Pujari of Pathardi police station told reporters, "No cash or any other article was stolen from her house. Furthermore, the elderly woman was brutally murdered, stoned to death, and set on fire, which indicated the murder was not by any burglar and the killer had a strong hatred against the victim."
From the outset, police suspected that the motive was deeply personal. Their investigation soon revealed that Kisnabai had sold a small plot of land for Rs 12 lakh. She distributed Rs 5 lakh each to her two grandsons and kept Rs 20,000 for her own expenses. The remainder—Rs 1.8 lakh—was placed in a fixed deposit, with her younger grandson named as the nominee. This decision, it turned out, sowed the seeds of resentment in Sachin, the elder grandson, who operated a truck for a living.
Family members confirmed that tensions had been brewing for months. In January 2025, Kisnabai visited Sachin's home for the Makar Sankranti festival, only to be badly beaten by him after a disagreement over the fixed deposit. Instead of taking her to the hospital, Sachin dropped her back at her house. When Chhaya Khose learned of the assault, she arranged for her mother to be hospitalized for three days. These details, corroborated by Chhaya, painted a picture of escalating violence and bitterness within the family.
Despite these warning signs, it took police several months to gather enough evidence to make an arrest. On October 8, 2025, Sachin was finally taken into custody. During interrogation, he confessed to killing Kisnabai, a revelation that brought both relief and sorrow to the grieving family. According to the police, the murder was not a crime of opportunity but one rooted in longstanding anger and a sense of betrayal over the division of family assets.
Both cases—one a crime of passion, the other a crime of resentment—have prompted soul-searching in Maharashtra about the fragile nature of trust and the dangers of letting anger and greed spiral out of control. Local leaders and police officials have urged families to seek help when conflicts arise, rather than letting disputes turn deadly. As Inspector Pujari noted, "The killer had a strong hatred against the victim," a sentiment that could apply to both tragedies in different ways.
As investigations continue—one in Pune, the other in Nashik—residents are left to grapple with the unsettling reality that such violence can erupt anywhere, even in seemingly close-knit families and loving relationships. These cases serve as stark reminders that beneath the surface of everyday life, powerful emotions and unresolved disputes can sometimes lead to irreversible acts of destruction.
