By evening, almost all Parel and Elphinstone Road—an area dominated by the Marathi-speaking Mumbaiites and the former hub of the textile mills now slowly making way for high-rises—were brought to a halt by Supriya Dalvi and her posse of women activists of the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena.

The 30-something Dalvi is vibhag pramukh of the women’s wing of the MNS, responsible for 13 wards from Parel to Nagpada. And on Wednesday, she walked around with a ragtag team of Thackeray supporters, asking shop-owners to shut shop exactly like she would when she was a Shiv Sainik.

“They have told us not to indulge in any unlawful activities or we will be arrested. But I say, if we have to be arrested we might as well do something,” said the short and somewhat stout Dalvi. “We are ensuring that all shops here are shut. After all, they have arrested Rajsaheb. All the retailers along the route to KEM Hospital and Wadia Hospital have shut, now we are telling others to do the same.”

Dalvi, a homemaker when she’s not a politician, belongs to a family of former mill workers. Like thousands of other Central Mumbai families, Dalvi’s parents and siblings nurture the angst of the unemployed former mill workers. A women’s wing leader with the Shiv Sena for over 10 years, she shifted allegiance with the belief that the young Raj Thackeray “would get justice for the Marathi manoos”.

In 2003, her mother Surekha Chavan had to take voluntary retirement from the New Hind Mills in Ghodapdeo , a tiny Central Mumbai locality choc-a-bloc with now-defunct mills. Chavan, past 50, had to start a small beauty parlour in Lalbaug to support her family.

On Wednesday, Chavan joined her daughter on the streets as men gathered in corners to watch and speculate on what could happen next. “Our youth are unemployed. We lost our jobs and now they are building malls in the places of mills. Where will the Marathi manoos go?” Chavan asked.

Years of being a Sainik have taught Dalvi to keep a watchful eye out for the patrolling police van and, as her women supporters entered each shop in the bustling shopping area around Elphinstone Road station and Parel, Dalvi played the chaperoning MNS local leader to perfection, ensuring that no shops were vandalised but everyone from the largest confectionery—Gouri Shankar Sweets—to a small-time flower vendor on a footpath closed business for the day.

Dalvi’s team was one among dozens of such groups that roamed the streets on Wednesday, soon after Thackeray was arrested.

In the Sainath Nagar area of Powai, the elderly Sunita Chavan whose “rakta khavatle (blood boils)” on seeing the plight of Marathi manoos in Mumbai, led the local MNS supporters in ensuring that the shops in the area were shut.

A former worker with the Nationalist Congress Party, Sunita joined the MNS last week after Raj Thackeray’s remarks on migrants from UP and Bihar. A mother of three and a housewife, she said: “The shopkeepers were scared. We told them that they could open later if Rajsaheb is released,” said Sunita.

“When the mills were operating, there were a lot of Marathis in Mumbai, but the scene has changed now. The new generation does not have job opportunities, we are hurt by the fact that the local youth are being robbed of their rights,” said Sunita. “Raj Thackeray is the true leader of the Marathi manoos, he is speaking for us and speaking the truth.”

Rachana Agarwal, a vibhag pramukh in Dadar, ensured that her colleagues brought the bustling shopping-district to a halt, by shutting the shops and taking over the footpaths.

Dalvi said: “What Rajsaheb is saying is exactly what we want. The Marathi youth should get the jobs first… They (the government) made large promises of housing when they pulled down the mills but those were never fulfilled.”