The Lightness of my Views

Everything from books to art to travel to random views! A melange of my journies!

Friday, February 20, 2015

My RP sab ~

I once asked him why he didn't write his life story, after all, there were rich stories to be told. He smiled and said "Unfortunately the best parts will have to be left out. It would be a very small book." And then that smile - it reached his eyes immediately. 

That's what he was -  intensely full of life, but private in his life story. And when he passed on, the legend of his story passed on quietly. But, like all legends, everybody could sense that there was a loss. And for those who knew the man well, the mourning would be for the death of a life lived to the full and with unparalleled generosity. 

I have had RP sab in my world and consciousness for 24 years, interacting with him on and off. But I started working closely with him a few years back. First, on a project and then on a division of businesses. There were times when I spent hours with him, working out options, thinking of strategies. The sessions invariably ended with "Okay, what else?" It was his sign that lets stop work and lighten our moods. We would talk about politics, people and life. He had a library full of books, and there were always a couple of them lying in front of them. I asked him how he got the time to read all of them. He said I read upto the point I've got the essence of what the author wants to say - sometimes it requires the whole book to get that, and often just a few pages. 

Sitting with a living legend was often disconcerting in the beginning, but he radiated warmth, which was what was his defining characteristic.  

I once asked him how he chose the companies to takeover. He said "My gut feeling and my guts." He only had a balance sheet or two to go on. No Mckinsey, no spreadsheets, no five year projections, no market analyses. And he assimilated into his empire companies as diverse and successful as Ceat, Cesc, Spencers, HMV-Saregama, KEC, Harrison's Malayalam, amongst others. Some he bought as they were being scrapped under BIFR or some such laws, some he bought under stiff competition, some he bought through market purchases. But each one had his astuteness, his charm and his incredible credibility stamped, in the final takeover document. 

He was the original Takeover King. But he let the burden of his kingdom lay very lightly on his shoulders. 

Like his contemporaries of the time -JRD Tata, Aditya Birla, etc - he believed in his companies being managed by strong people who ruled with great autonomy and freedom. He bequested his trust on them, and they repayed by being leaders who delivered. Maybe, not always. But he was always slow to delink, cut off. Because he had personal ties with these leaders, he considered them family, and gave them huge space for redemption. 

'Giving space' is also one of the legacies which he bequested to both his sons. They have both become visionary leaders who lead with a light touch. Humaneness defines them, not hunger. Humility is their stamp, not hubris.

But the pleasure of being with RP sab was as a person, behind the immensity of his persona. He embraced life with both hands. Immensely fond of music, he took over HMV just as it was on the brink of closure. He took out a personally selected series of music called Chairman's Choice, which reflected his rich understanding of classical music. And he loved his food. He often used to visit Varanasi, and he knew which 'gali' had which famous 'chaat'. And he made sure they were made available for him and his friends, throughout the day. One day I mentioned to him how I loved the seedless dates from the Middle East. Lo and behold, there was a large packet lying on his table when I went to meet him sometime later. 'Luckily, a packet came, and I remembered you like them, hence I kept it for you."

A colleague of mine, who grew really close to him, one day mentioned a particular 'thandai' which was famous and available in just one shop in Varanasi. Next day, a bottle was delivered to his home. 

In the later years, he built one of the most beautiful temples in Calcutta, and spent time there. Every month he had religious speakers from all over India come to talk about the scriptures and their lessons on living and loving. He would be a quiet and attentive listener, often with tears in his eyes. 

His vision made him plan the business separation between both his sons, much before it was required. He, as always, knew the sensitivities of power and took the division as his final paternal duty. He had no happiness while the task got completed. I worked closely with him on it. His overriding concern, which he kept repeating time and again, was fairness, equanimity, above all. And he burnt with the desire for his sons to go beyond what he had achieved. "I want to see them double, triple, what they are getting." And, fortuitously, he saw both his sons, rapidly increase their empire. In multiples in just the three years of the partition. 

I saw him sporadically in the last few months. Somewhat lonely, sometimes alone. But one could sense he knew he was drifting. Old age and illness brings in a sad struggle between continuing with your lust for life and your body's impediments: every love affair has loss embedded into its DNA. 

I met him last about a month back. His room in his home was like a hospital room. He had lost weight because of his prolonged illness. He very softly told me what he wanted. As I left, I looked back. He was seeing an old Amitabh Bachhan film, and there was a smile on his face. He was unwinding, he was at peace.  

RIP R P Goenka 

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