Handpicked by Indira Gandhi, Mukherjee began his ministerial innings as deputy minister, Industrial Development back in February 1973 and rose to become the official Number Two in her last cabinet — a post he held till the day she was assassinated that October morning 22 years ago.

October 31, 1984 did not just brutally end his beloved leader’s life. It also, more by default than design, cast a long shadow over his own political career that he is still struggling to come out from. Rajiv Gandhi was in West Bengal when his mother was fatally shot and Pranab Mukherjee accompanied him on the flight to Delhi. He was very clear that Rajiv must take over immediately. Not exactly steeped in history or politics, Rajiv wanted to know what happened after his grandfather died in office. Mukherjee told him that Gulzari Lal Nanda, the seniormost person in the cabinet, filled in as acting prime minister till Lal Bahadur Shastri was appointed the PM. And what happened when Shastri died? Ditto, said Mukherjee. Gulzari Lal Nanda was acting PM till Mrs Gandhi was sworn in.

It did not take long for his rivals in the party to spread the word that Mukherjee was not playing his stock Ready Reckoner role on that momentous flight to New Delhi. As Number Two in Mrs G’s cabinet, he was pitching for the top post himself. The rumours soon reached Rajiv and Arun Nehru, the story goes, convinced the new prime minister that his mother’s trusted man was not to be trusted. Mukherjee was important enough to be made chairman of the Congress Campaign Committee ahead of the 1984 Lok Sabha polls. But when Rajiv announced his first cabinet after sweeping to an unprecedented victory with over 400 seats, Mukherjee’s name did not figure in the list.

A shattered Mukherjee soon left the Congress and tried to set up his own party. That was the only time he made such a mistake. Within two years, he realised that his future — for better or worse — lay with the Congress. No other party had the inclusiveness and the appeal, the history and the spread to suit his own catholic temperament or evoke his lifelong loyalty. By 1987, Rajiv Gandhi’s outlook had also changed. Bofors had happened, V.P. Singh had turned against him, his best friends — Arun Nehru and Arun Singh — had deserted him, and the words trust and loyalty suddenly acquired a whole new meaning. So Rajiv was only too happy to get back the support of his mother’s favourite minister and made him the chairman of the Congress party’s Economic Advisory Cell. The Congress party lost the 1989 elections but Mukherjee was back in his old role as chairman of the campaign committee when elections were held again in 1991. In case Rajiv had survived and won the elections, Mukherjee would certainly have figured in his cabinet.

When Narasimha Rao took over after the elections, Mukherjee was in for another disappointment. He did not get a cabinet post. But he wasn’t about to make the mistake of sulking and took up the offer to become deputy chairman of the planning commission. Two years later, he was made the commerce minister and in 1995 elevated to the minister for external affairs. But he continued as deputy chairman at Yojana Bhavan — adept at handling more than one tough job, a talent that has been put to full use by the UPA government over the last two years.

But if Mukherjee, unlike say Arjun Singh, has never chosen to revolt or intrigue against his party leader or the prime minister, neither has he managed to acquire the qualities of unquestioning sycophancy - a la Shivraj Patil — that pays dividends in every organisation, and most certainly in the Congress party. When the Congress was in wilderness, Mukherjee busied himself with formulating policies and strategy — refusing to accept that the coalition era had come to stay and still certain of a Congress revival when others had lost hope. And when the party did come to power and Sonia Gandhi made the “apolitical” Manmohan Singh the prime minister, Mukherjee may have not been too happy — after all as finance minister he had appointed Singh RBI governor in the 1980s — but did not show it. He would have preferred becoming home minister, but within five minutes of becoming defence minister, his aides insist, he sought a meeting with the defence secretary and plunged into the new job. Manmohan Singh, on his part, soon realised that Mukherjee was an asset and not a rival and entrusted him with the chairmanship of innumerable GoMs. At one time, Mukherjee presided over 38 GOMs, which have now come down to nine. Similarly, Sonia Gandhi may have her coterie of trusted lieutenants, but Mukherjee is the “sage counsel” she turns to for advice and inputs.

That has not exactly endeared him to powerful sections in the Party. Like the whisper campaign in November 1984, there are many today who complain that Mukherjee is a little too powerful and was eyeing the Deputy PM slot. Those rumours hit home, leading to Sonia Gandhi’s “categorical” declaration in Nainital last month that there would be no deputy PM. And now, Mukherjee despite his known reluctance for the job, has been made foreign minister.

Is it an elevation or demotion? At one level, there is no reason to see it as a demotion since the prime minister clearly wants the best man he can get to run the country’s foreign policy. But if it leads to lessening his role in the making of government policy, party strategy and parliamentary tactics, it could mean that that the anti-Pranab lobby has gained ground. That, however, is unlikely. Both Manmohan Singh and Sonia Gandhi have a healthy respect for experience and talent and few can match Mukherjee in that department in the party.

And with all his zigzags, Mukherjee too knows that talent and experience do not guarantee the top job anywhere. Other factors often count for more. B.K. Nehru titled his biography Nice Guys Finish Second. When he finally retires, Mukherjee could probably write a sequel and call it And Bright Guys, Third.