If my forefathers were thrifty and enterprising, I wouldn’t have to slog and earn bread the way I have; you see it took 7 generations to wipe out “zamindari” involving huge tracts of land in Muzaffarpur (Bihar), received as ‘bakshish’ at the hands of the newly crowned king, Mir Kasim, of undivided Bengal. 

 

This learned Brahmin from Kannauj (UP), possibly the head priest/ preacher in the King’s court, my ancestor, had sought from the benevolent king something in kind, that his 7 generations could live off. 

 

My father was the 8th generation and had to work for a living, an MA (English) topper from Delhi University he became a Parliamentarian, retiring as a Joint Secretary from the Lok Sabha. 

 

I was the black sheep in the family of meritorious brothers and father’s refrain, “mark my words, you will go to dogs” still ring loud and clear. 

 

Born and brought up in Delhi, schooled in DPS and later Sardar Patel, a conservative school that seldom failed to put its students in the Delhi Board’s merit list, it’s another matter that it produced a national TT champion, a test cricketer, a film Director of acclaim, numerous scientists, there was no way but to end up with a decent School final score that kind of opened doors for the future. 

 

Back in 68 only engineering and medicine were considered respectable career choices. Buta Singh, a powerful MP suggested to my father and I was present in his chamber in Parliament that day, “isko Punjab bhej do, the face of Agriculture in the nation is about to change”, instead I chose Pant Nagar, gateway to the Kumaoun hills. 

 

Passion for outdoors grew – the Jim Corbett countryside, trekking thru the hills every other month, the Univ band, Soccer, squash racquet and occasionally rolling joints using the freshest cannabis/ charas one could get at the foothills. Midway thru engineering, 

 

I even had a crack at the “Indian Military Academy”, appearing for the final SSB interview at Jabalpore, missing it by a whisker. 

 

Five years at Pantnagar went in a jiffy but it made us tough. Armed with an engineering degree we thought we were ready to face the world. 

 

Jobs weren’t easy to come by and then IIMA happened, quite by chance I should imagine. Until then one wanted nothing but a career in Sales. 

 

IIMA taught a whole lot of “Common sense” (so uncommon) and one emerged from the high pressure cauldron (the freshman year) ‘Teflon’ coated, so to say, that the world without looks up to as someone with pedigree and doors are flung open in the corporate world. I have often wondered if the IIMA tag has prevented some of us from becoming successful entrepreneurs. 

 

At IIMA, I chose HMT Delhi and not Voltas Bombay, ‘cause of hometown advantage. In 2 years I had proven my (IIMA) mettle and was deemed as wasting my time in a regional office which eventually led to my transfer to Bangalore. 

 

And what crazy life style we led (Ashok Priyadarshi will vouch for it) and before long the hotel food, the monotonous routine, advancing age (28+ in those days was deemed old) compelled one to begin considering marriage as a viable option. 

 

We (Yashomati from Calcutta and I) got married in July 1980, was fortunate to have some of the Gems present, and returned to Bangalore. Our first born was conceived there but born in Nasik in his Dadu’s house in Jan ’82. 

 

My father-in-law, a brilliant engineer, a Sanskrit scholar and an ardent follower of the Bhagwat Gita having practiced it for 40 years, had a profound influence on me. It completely changed my outlook – don’t chase money, do a job well, bloody well, better than others, money will follow. 

 

I came to Nasik and joined his ten year old enterprise in 1982. It was a culture shock after having polished one’s skills in mega factories of HMT. 

 

From Rs 26 lac a year, it was a red letter day when we did our first one crore, we are hoping to breach the 100 crore mark in the next 2 years. 

 

It hasn’t been easy; the maxim, “a rupee saved is a rupee earned or as the Scots say – a mickle and a mackle makes a muckle” has helped. 

 

There were days when one took a bus ride, a shared autoriksha to the railway station and then a 3-tier rail journey to Delhi just to conserve money to be able to pay wages. Today we sell in the Middle East, Far East (Japan and Hong kong), a bit in the UK with manufacturing in Nasik and West Bengal. I am hoping to add one in Gujarat next year. 

 

All of this wouldn’t be possible without the extreme sacrifices that my wife, Yashomati, has made over the years. And yes she is gutsy too. In 2008, she sky dived from 14,000 feet above in Hawaiian skies, River rafted in Bali late last year, did a trek to the “Chaar Dham” and Gomukh in early June this year. 

 

Our son Apurba went to Purdue, US, post class XII to get a BS in Comp Sc, did his MBA from National Univ, Singapore and IE in Madrid. After travelling to over 40 countries, he chose to come back to India and is now on his own. He married Sonali, an NID grad, in Nov last year, the occasion graced by several Gems. As parents we hardly appreciate their bohemian life styles or pursuing independent careers that keeps them geographically separated for long spells. 

 

I have little idea when I will hang my boots up, am not a religious person but often recall “Psalms of the Road” by Somerset Maugham :

“work work work with your heart within and lord overhead”.