Ajit Pawar Plane Crash: Maharashtra Deputy CM Dies in Baramati – Breaking News, Family, and Legacy
Nobody saw this coming. Early this morning, Maharashtra lost its Deputy Chief Minister, Ajit Pawar, in a tragic plane crash that’s left the state stunned. The news spread fast—social media lit up with people searching for answers, trying to make sense of what happened near Baramati, Pawar’s hometown.
Here’s what we know so far. It was January 28, 2026, a little before 9 AM. Ajit Pawar boarded a private Learjet 45 (VT-SSK), flying from Mumbai to Baramati—a short hop, not even an hour in the air. But something went terribly wrong. As the plane tried to land near Baramati Airport, it crashed in the hills and burst into flames. Every person on board died—Ajit Pawar himself, both pilots (Captain Shambhavi Pathak and Sumit Kapoor), cabin crew Pinky Mali, and another crew member. The crash site quickly drew crowds, and the aftermath felt unreal.
People are asking what went wrong. Was it the weather? Some say visibility was poor. Maybe the plane had mechanical trouble. Either way, eyewitnesses saw the jet struggling as it tried to approach the runway. By the time it hit the ground, it was too late. The Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) started an investigation right away, and forensic teams rushed to the scene.
VSR Aviation, the company that owned the plane, released a statement—grief, shock, the usual corporate line. They insisted the aircraft was in good shape before takeoff. Still, questions are swirling about VSR Ventures and the plane’s track record. Turns out, this Learjet had seen a few incidents before, but never something this serious.
The whole thing reminds people of other leaders lost to air disasters—Gopinath Munde, Vilasrao Deshmukh, Pramod Mahajan, Sanjay Gandhi, Bipin Rawat. Every time, the state reels. Maharashtra announced three days of mourning, government offices shut down, and suddenly everyone’s searching “is tomorrow a holiday” and “28 January 2026 holiday.”
Right now, Baramati Hospital is surrounded by people waiting for news or just paying their respects. The funeral is set for Thursday, January 29. Big names are coming—Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Home Minister Amit Shah, and plenty of other leaders.
So, who was Ajit Pawar, really?
Ajit Anantrao Pawar, or just “Ajit Dada” to most, was born July 22, 1959, in Deolali Pravara, Ahmednagar district. He was 66 when he died. Politics ran in his blood—his uncle is Sharad Pawar, founder of the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP), a giant in Maharashtra politics.
Ajit’s dad, Anantrao Pawar, was a farmer and a local leader. Ajit went to local schools, then studied commerce in college. He jumped into politics in the early ‘90s, winning a by-election from Baramati in 1991. He held that seat for decades.
His career was anything but simple. Ajit Pawar became Deputy Chief Minister of Maharashtra multiple times—first in 2009, then 2012, briefly in 2019, and from 2023 until now. He built a reputation for getting things done, especially in water resources and irrigation. Baramati owes much of its development as an agro-industrial center to his drive.
People keep searching “who is Ajit Pawar,” “Ajit Pawar party,” and “Ajit Pawar NCP.” In 2023, he made headlines by splitting from his uncle’s NCP and joining forces with the BJP-Shiv Sena government led by Eknath Shinde and Devendra Fadnavis. The Election Commission gave his faction the rights to the NCP name and symbol.
Money? Ajit Pawar was worth over ₹100 crore, thanks to agriculture, real estate, and business interests. He wasn’t a stranger to controversy, either—the massive irrigation scam (₹70,000 crore) followed him for years, but he eventually came out clean after investigations.
His family? The Pawars are everywhere in Maharashtra politics. Sharad Pawar leads the clan. His daughter, Supriya Sule, is an MP from Baramati. Rohit Pawar, Ajit’s nephew, is an MLA. The Pawar family tree just keeps growing, branching deep into the state’s political ground.
Now, with Ajit Pawar gone, Maharashtra is left with questions, memories, and a huge gap in its political landscape.