Watching the Mallya Interview

After nine long years of silence, the man who once represented India’s flamboyant business elite reappeared on a podcast, not in a courtroom. This was not a press conference. It wasn’t a statement read out by lawyers. It was a long, carefully staged conversation hosted by Raj Shamani, a content creator and entrepreneur with a growing following. The result? Four hours of controlled candour. Or as some have already started calling it, a masterclass in narrative repackaging.From a communication point of view, it was slick. Mallya was calm, deliberate and fully aware of the camera. He expressed regret. He even apologised to the employees of Kingfisher Airlines. He spoke about the emotional toll on his family. He clarified, at least from his point of view, how the thousands of crores debt was a headline that ignored repayments, frozen assets and the interest overload. On the surface, he appeared to be doing what every PR consultant eventually advises: take control of the narrative before someone else does it for you.

But what he really did was attempt to rewrite public memory.As someone who has worked on both sides—journalism and public relations—I watched with a growing sense of déjà vu. I have sat in boardrooms where troubled promoters were trained to show vulnerability. I’ve helped shape lines that sound spontaneous. I’ve seen CEOs rehearse their “moment of truth” for townhalls. So when Mallya says, “You can call me a fugitive if you want, but where is the ‘chor’ in all this?” I don’t just hear a defensive man. I hear a line that’s been tested, weighed and chosen for its stickiness.Raj Shamani must be given credit. He landed an interview others couldn’t. He kept his tone calm, respectful, and persistent. At points, he did press for answers. But it was never a journalistic interrogation. It wasn’t meant to be. This was a creator-driven conversation in the age of digital intimacy. The interviewer never pretended to be an investigative reporter. He was a platform, not a prosecutor.

Which brings us to the real point. What happens when legacy narratives are reauthored in real time? What do we do when a fugitive in the legal sense gets to speak freely for millions, reframing himself not as a wilful defaulter but as a misunderstood entrepreneur who was failed by a broken system?.We listen, of course. That’s what social media encourages. But do we also fact-check? Do we question? Or do we scroll, like, comment and move on?Mallya’s interview has been viewed over two million times already. There’s a new generation out there that barely remembers Kingfisher Airlines. They weren’t following the court hearings. They don’t recall the newspaper editorials or the Finance Ministry briefings. What they now have is four hours of glossy redemption, algorithm-approved, emotionally packaged and available on demand.That is where the discomfort lies.This is not about denying Mallya the right to speak. Everyone has the right to be heard. Even those who’ve fallen from grace. But the weight of a story cannot depend only on how well it is told. It also depends on how much is left unsaid, how many questions remain unasked, and how many facts are quietly edited out in the name of flow.One can admire the elegance of the interview format and still remain suspicious of the narrative. This is not contradiction. It is professional muscle memory.

In public relations, we are trained to look for windows of opportunity in a crisis. A podcast is a window. A sympathetic ear is a door. A four-hour platform without legal cross-examination is an entire house built for image repair.Mallya used that house well. He walked through it like a man who’s lived there all along.For the young professionals watching this, especially those entering media, marketing or reputation management, here’s the takeaway. The story you hear is often just one version of the truth. It may be delivered with warmth. It may carry emotional weight. It may even be sincere. But sincerity is not always the same as honesty. What sounds reasonable is not always what is right. There is no villain music in real life. There is only production value.When the mic becomes a mirror, you often see what the speaker wants you to see. Behind every image is an edit.Behind every “let me tell you my side” moment, there’s often a team that has already decided what that side will be.

For now, Mallya remains in the UK, his legal status unchanged. The banks have not withdrawn their claims. The employees have not been fully paid. The term “economic fugitive” is not a social media label It’s a legal one. The courts, not podcasts, will eventually decide what accountability really looks like.In the meantime, those of us who work with communication, media or public opinion would do well to remember a simple truth: A story well told is still just a story.