Everyone has a Rajiv story.

An interesting one that I heard recently is about the time when the young Indian Airlines pilot strolled into the air traffic control tower in Jodhpur, for a casual chat with the Indian Air Force staff on duty. There was no political talk, just professional banter. Rajiv was fresh out of the cockpit of a Fokker Friendship operated by the Indian Airlines.

One of the IAF men on duty, from the metrology branch, was an uncle of a current staffer of THE WEEK. During the chitchat, Rajiv noticed a tea-stained aluminium kettle sitting on a tray, surrounded by used tumblers. “Won’t you offer me tea?” he quipped to the duty officer. Embarrassed, the officer offered to call for a fresh tray of a better brew, but Rajiv waved him aside with a grin and poured himself a cup of the staff brew. He drank it, talked shop, shook hands and left. It was not PR; it was vintage Rajiv. He was happiest with his clan, the brotherhood of the skies.

He had that confident and easy-going manner that would rub off on everyone he met. I remember this from his presence at the closing ceremony of the Malayala Manorama’s centenary celebrations at Vigyan Bhavan in 1989. He charmed everyone present, from M.S. Subbulakshmi to Ambili Nair and Shashankan—the president and secretary of the Akhila Kerala Balajana Sakhyam, the Malayala Manorama’s league for schoolchildren.

His appreciation for the arts was at another level. I remember him that evening, listening in rapt attention to MS amma’s moving rendition of ‘He Govind, He Gopal Krishna, He Murari’. And this was a man who also loved to kick off his shoes, pop a jazz record into the player and unwind. He opened his mind to every decent thing and shut out no one or nothing.

In a world where everyone is getting ruffled about slights, both real and perceived, Rajiv was a person who could enjoy a joke made at his expense. While proposing the vote of thanks that evening, my elder brother, Mammen Mathew, quipped that often it was the run up and the take-off that was tough, like the Manorama’s initial years and Rajiv’s first full term as prime minister. Everyone, including Rajiv, was in splits. Remember, this was a time when he was cornered politically. But he took a joke for what it was. My brother wished Rajiv a more pleasant flight in the upcoming term. Sadly, that was never to be.

Often when political rivals say that he did nothing and young Indians echo it, I feel like reminding them. If you voted at 18, it was because of him. If you are working in the IT/ITeS sector today, it is thanks to him. If your house is stuffed with white goods, he saw it coming. With 197 seats under his belt, he led his party to the opposition benches, instead of bribing and bullying his way to power. If that does not make him a decent politician, what does?

Was he perfect? Far from it. He was not God, he was man. And, he would have been the first one to remind you of that truth.