In defence of Pappu Yadav who scared an air hostess with a slipper

Pappu Yadav seems to be getting thinner of skin as he gets thicker of clout. The Tuesday incident, in which a Jet Airways air hostess alleged Yadav of unruly behaviour on a Patna-Delhi flight, was somewhat inevitable, given the Madhepura member of Parliament's growing intolerance and proclivity to cut people down to size. 

It was visible less than a week ago. On June 10, having launched his Jan Adhikar Party at a plush Patna hotel and already delivered his "Mann Ki Baat" - yes that's how he framed his speech - the Madhepura MP found two journalists from important Patna newspapers arriving late at his press conference. Acutely concerned about their newspapers' deadline - perhaps more than the two reporters themselves - Yadav quickly ushered them to a corner and started sharing his pearls of wisdom.

Just as Yadav was busy explaining how he intends to salvage Bihar, another scribe - much to his chagrin - sauntered in, pulled a chair and started throwing his own theories on Bihar politics. Yadav clenched and unclenched his face - it was like a wasp buzzing around a great bear.

"Nahi pahchane kya?" the intruder asked Yadav.

"Kaise nahi pahchanenge aapko, abhi-abhi apne haath se aapko do leg piece diye hai, ek nahi do leg pieces. Aur dilwaoon kya? (How can I not recognise you, I personally served you two chicken leg pieces just now, not one but two pieces. You want more?)," Yadav snapped.

Though the words were delivered matter-of-factly, the unmitigated contempt they carried cut the wise man like a razor. He quietly got off the chair and walked out of the room while Yadav turned back to his animated discussion. Needless to say, nobody troubled him again that night.

Yadav has always wanted to be in the news. The urge is bigger today when he has launched his own political party with elections round the corner in Bihar. But, even then, Yadav could not control his tongue that cut loose and slipped a sentence to make the condescending journalist scoot for cover.

"Netaji cannot be faulted for his occasional nasty outbursts," said a flunkey. "After all, he is continuously and alone grappling at various fronts at the same time. He raises his voice only when someone gets on his nerves." Prodded further, the lieutenant explained: "Which politician will humiliate a journalist in the election year? The trouble with Netaji is that while he has perfected the art of controlling facial expressions; he cannot cap his anger for long."

Yadav indeed has a million worries to stress about. Having been expelled by the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), the Lok Sabha MP is being driven by a bold and somewhat blinding ambition to become the next Lalu Prasad Yadav of Bihar. What if Lalu cannot look beyond his sons as inheritors? Now, approaching 50, Pappu Yadav believes he has no time to wait; he'd better usurp Lalu's legacy.

But notwithstanding his consuming ambition, Yadav has been forced to fight everyone in Bihar to carve a space for himself. The RJD has already expelled him from the party. The Congress and the Janata Dal (United) [JD(U)] have also slammed the door on his face. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which otherwise seems eager to enlist foot soldiers against the Janata alliance, too have found Yadav a persona non grata - notwithstanding his earlier meeting with Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Worse still, even Jitan Ram Manjhi - for whom Yadav revolted against Lalu Prasad - has refused to stitch any electoral alliance with the burly MP.

Now, think of Yadav, the five-term Lok Sabha MP, who is struggling with a notorious reputation that has always forced him to punch under his weight.

The man won his Lok Sabha seat in 2014 on an RJD ticket at a time when the Narendra Modi juggernaut decimated all opposition in Bihar. Besides effectively quelling the Modi wave, Yadav also neutralised Nitish Kumar's relentless campaign to defeat socialist veteran and JD(U) national president Sharad Yadav in Madhepura.

If this is not all, Yadav is also credited for ensuring the victory of his wife Ranjit Ranjan in the neighbouring constituency of Supaul. Their victories have qualified the two to be the only couple in the Lok Sabha. Yadav's sense of entitlement - at least to him - is not entirely misplaced. Unfortunately for him, those well-heeled in Bihar politics still treat the five-term Lok Sabha MP as an upstart, someone not to be taken seriously.

Though Yadav is still referred to as "Bahubali", he has already been acquitted in the murder case of Communist Party of India (Marxist) [CPI(M)] leader Ajit Sarkar owing to lack of evidence. But the jarring irony is that the stamp of a criminal-turned-politician has refused to wash away from him.

It must be irritating for Yadav. The lack of seriousness accorded to him in Bihar politics must be hammering deep inside his skull, making it agonising for him to concentrate or control his feelings.

Now, it is difficult is exactly know what happened on the flight on Tuesday. It will, however, not be difficult to imagine Yadav lumbering with a 90kg frame under a scorching Patna sun that is relentlessly spitting fire at 41 degree Celsius.

Yadav had the onerous task to keep a large group of people happy; friends, hacks, hangers on and potential voters. There was a large group to see him off at the Patna airport. He smiled, shook hands, promised good days ahead to his supporters and ticket seekers even when the other half of his brain remained preoccupied with worries to arrange finances for 100 candidates, which he has promised to field.

It's not easy to be politically correct all the time - not easy to act all the time and under duress. These are election times, and under the prying eyes of the camera, Yadav knows he needs to behave. So when he boarded the flight on Tuesday, the mask on his face had to slip. The rules of the game are effective on the ground, not in the sky.

After all, nobody flying to Delhi could be his voter. Not even potential voters. They could be doctors, engineers and traders, the majority of them middle class people without any concern or commitment for Yadav or his Jan Adhikar Party. For god's sake, he needed to be himself. For his own good health, at least.

So, as the plane took off and gained height, in the altitudinal solitude; Yadav must have discovered the "Mr Hyde" in himself and the depth of dislike that he so inconspicuously harboured for many others. It was just then the dessert must have dropped near his feat.

The damn crew must clean it. Who do they think he was? A five-term Lok Sabha MP. How many of them in the Lower House have won so many elections? And then perhaps without volition, propelled by some long-forgotten, deeply buried instinct for vengeance, Yadav may have took off his slipper and waved at the crew.

The man needs rest.