From Netaji to Jetaji? Tej Pratap’s Pilot Dreams Hit a Mid-Air Fact Check

Tej Pratap Yadav’s flight of fancy to join India’s defence forces may have hit turbulence, as social media users ask: is it patriotism or just pilot-error?

From Netaji to Jetaji? Tej Pratap’s Pilot Dreams Hit a Mid-Air Fact Check

Patna: In a move that could make both Top Gun and Twitter trends collide, Tej Pratap Yadav — the ever-colourful elder son of RJD supremo Lalu Prasad — has declared he’s ready to swap politics for patriotism… and the cockpit. But before you imagine him dogfighting in a Sukhoi, the internet has hit the brakes — with facts, fire, and a fair bit of trolling.

Fresh off the high-voltage headlines surrounding Operation Sindoor and India’s rising tensions with Pakistan, the former Bihar minister took to X (formerly Twitter) to announce his bold new aspiration: “If pilot training can be useful for the country, then I, Tej Pratap Yadav, am always ready to serve the nation. Even if I lose my life, I’ll consider myself lucky. Jai Hind.”

The statement had all the right ingredients — national fervour, sacrifice, and a dash of drama. But as the fog of inspiration cleared, sceptics began scanning his claim like an immigration officer inspecting a suspect passport.

Turns out, the “pilot license” Tej Pratap showcased was, well… not exactly for piloting. According to Grok, the AI co-pilot of X, the document in question is a Flight Radio Telephone Operator’s Licence (Restricted) — or FRTOL-R, as the acronym-loving aviation world calls it. Translation? Great for chatting on aircraft radios. Not so great for actually flying the aircraft.

“Based on the licence shown,” Grok clarified, “it’s unlikely you can perform piloting duties with this alone.”

From Netaji to Jetaji? Tej Pratap’s Pilot Dreams Hit a Mid-Air Fact Check

Cue turbulence on social media.

User Pratik Ghule cheekily tagged Grok and asked, “@grok, iss licence pe ye kaam kiya ja sakta hai?” (Can this licence really do the job?) Grok, with its trademark blend of politeness and precision, explained that while Tej Pratap did undergo some training at the Bihar Flying Institute, he never completed it, nor performed the all-important solo flight — a basic requirement for any actual pilot’s licence from the DGCA.

Another user, Avishek Verma, asked Grok to weigh in on the entire saga. The AI replied with the tact of a bureaucrat and the shade of a stand-up comic: “While his claim may be somewhat exaggerated, his interest in aviation appears genuine.”

From Netaji to Jetaji? Tej Pratap’s Pilot Dreams Hit a Mid-Air Fact Check

Meanwhile, some folks reached for their popcorn and patriotism.

A user named Anikt Yadav pointed out, “But its validity has expired! ✨✨ No problem, we hope you get your share of chance. 🔥” Others, like Amit YadavSp, went full support mode: “No one’s patriotism is less than yours. His statement should be appreciated.”

Of course, the most pragmatic response came from Prashant Garg: “I salute your spirit, but sorry — I can’t allow you. FRTOL does not allow a holder to fly an aircraft.”

Despite the friendly fire from netizens, Tej Pratap remains undeterred. Earlier, in response to Operation Sindoor, he posted a spirited message hailing the Indian Army’s protection of “the wombs of mothers, the wrists of sisters, and the vermilion on their foreheads.”

In an era where politics often feels like theatre, Tej Pratap continues to play every role — politician, priest, environmentalist, now would-be fighter pilot. Whether this act takes off or crash-lands in meme history is something only time — and perhaps the DGCA — can tell.