Years ago, a flight I took with V S Achuthanandan comes back vividly to my mind. It was a trip to meet then Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Accompanying us were Minister Kodiyeri Balakrishnan, A K Premachandran, a few IAS officers and others. Our journey began early in the morning at 6.30 am, and we were to reach Delhi by 10.30. V S was seated in the front row, with Sheela Thomas and me right behind him.

As the plane ascended, most passengers fell asleep. I, however, stayed awake. A few minutes later, I sensed a sudden jolt, followed by a loud, unsettling noise. People woke up in alarm. The pilot soon announced a technical failure and informed us that the plane would be making an emergency landing at the nearest airport.

Everyone was visibly anxious. Fear clouded every face. But V S remained utterly calm, unshaken. Even after the announcement, he sat there without the slightest sign of worry. The flight landed safely at Nagpur airport, and it was later confirmed that one of the engines had failed. The plane had landed using only a single engine. It was declared unfit to fly further. Yet even then, the fear had not quite left the rest of us—everyone except V S.

Death never frightened V S. Nor did defeat. In every crisis—be it political or personal—he stood firm, unflinching. But there were a few rare moments when emotion did overcome him. One such moment was the murder of T P Chandrasekharan.

V S hadn’t heard of TP’s death the night it happened. It was only the next morning, after finishing his usual routine, that the news was broken to him. A newspaper was handed to him to read. The grief that overwhelmed him then is difficult to put into words. Many advised him against going to see TP’s body. He paid no heed. He went, determined to have one last glimpse, his heart breaking with silent anguish.

Within the party, no matter what resistance he faced, VS had the courage and integrity to stand his ground. It was this strength that led him to visit Chandrasekharan’s house on the day of the Neyyattinkara by-election—despite the storm it created within the ranks.

On another occasion, the party expelled three of us, including myself, as per its decision. I could see how deeply saddened VS was. He told me, almost pleading, that Suresh (referring to me) must be with him. “The party has made a decision. It must not be defied. It’s best I leave,” I told him. Yet, he remained insistent—he didn’t want me to go.

Even when the Politburo decision made headlines on television, I stayed with him. He expressed again his wish that I remain by his side. When journalists came to ask about it, I told him I would only speak in favour of the party’s stand. He was visibly emotional at that moment.

(The writer served as V S Achuthanandan’s personal assistant for many years.)