A Tale of Two NRIs

These are the legitimised ‘traitors’ who are feted and fawned-upon. No one asks them about the divide between the rich and poor even as they whiz past in racer cars. No one asks them to prove their loyalty to the country of their birth even as they give their best to another land. No one objects to their feeble knowledge of their homeland even as they hold forth on almost everything that happens here.

I do have a problem with non-resident Indians because although I can understand their need to relate to their roots in some manner, I cannot accept their superior attitude – that they know more than we do, that they do more than we do, that they care more than we do about our nation. They grumble about the illegal immigrants who ‘create havoc’ in India when many of them have not entered foreign shores legally themselves.

When we discuss the poverty in our country, they say we are marketing it and making fools of ourselves; when they do it shamelessly, writing about “sharing a room with 15 others in my slum” in their covering letter to get a scholarship abroad, then it is a “white lie”.

When we talk about a world without boundaries, we are immediately branded for having sympathies for those not within the boundaries; when they speak the same language, they are said to be global citizens without petty parochial concerns.

When they have an opinion on societies far removed from theirs, they claim to have a bird’s eye-view; when we do the same we are ticked off for sitting in our ivory towers. When we complain, we become whiners; when they complain, they are seriously worried.

Many of them are not an asset to either the country they adopt or where they were born, so it does not really matter. But let me take you through a short journey into the lives of two high-profile NRIs… Sabeer Bhatia and Vijay Mallya. How do we judge them? Is their money enough to make their motherland proud?

Moolah might

I am still trying to figure out why Sabeer Bhatia is considered so hot when all he has done is make a cool 400 million dollars.

I know, I know, that’s a hell of a lot of money. But, is that all you need to be considered a ‘pioneer’ these days? Must we as Indians think of it as reverse colonialism? Is the achievement of the motel owners and pickle sellers any less, even though they probably struggled more? Sabeer has his own explanation, “I would like to add that it’s not that inherently people in India are not smart, just that the system is not right for them to blossom… It would have been impossible for me to achieve this kind of success in this short period of time had I been in India.” Sure. Wonder why then he spends a great deal of time cruising in our country. Simple. America is done with him in a society where legends are measured out in coffee spoons, Starbucks ones.

I have been reading about colts winning the derby and headlines screaming, “Move over Sabeer Bhatia”. Where is he to move over to? Where on earth is he placed? Has he done anything worthwhile after selling Hotmail to Bill Gates?

Think about it. I admit I too thought at one time that he was about more than just money. His was a triumph of imagination over intelligence. But why is he at such a young age so static, while a Narayan Murthy is still innovating?

What happened to the guy who, despite landing on alien soil with $250 and 19 years of confusion, had his ears perked up for the big-time stories and who thought that if they could make it, so could he? Wasn’t he the person who had crossed over a huge barrier when he said,
“I felt I had made a big mistake. I knew nobody, people looked different, it was hard for them to understand my accent and me to understand theirs. I felt pretty lonely”?

After having 19 doors slammed shut on his face, he still had the gall to look for investors for something he admitted was a “hard story to sell” But it worked. Not only that, but the head of Menlo Ventures even commissioned a bust of a 31-year-old Indian to be placed in his office lobby.

So, is this what he wanted to do with his life -- be put on a pedestal for being among the great hawkers of contemporary times? To be the pin-up boy who got a slew of cars, a $ 2 million apartment on Pacific Heights, which he has explained as, “This is me. I bought it for the view”? To get splashed in the Page 3 circuit of India’s metros where you are considered big if others feel small before you?

This is not to belittle Bhatia’s achievements. But, was he the best guy around to manage to get so much money from people he did not know, and those who have traditionally suspected Indians? What went right for him?

It is easy when we talk of success stories to use the usual language, as his first sponsor Jurvetson does, “He had hallucinogenic optimism, a sense of destiny.” The bottomline is I think it is unlikely that a man who starts with rejection is suddenly going to let it all go. He was hanging on to something and it paid off.

Sabeer Bhatia has traded success for fame. One day he will understand the difference.

Mallya’s mantra

What will Dr. Vijay Mallya do in the Rajya Sabha? He says he wants to give back to Karnataka what he got from the State. Everyone knows you do not need to sit in the Upper House to contribute to society. But for one who has charmingly stated that “words” are his budget, he knows exactly when and how money can talk.

And this is not the liquor baron’s analysis of greed, but a once-rejected lad’s need to give and get back in double measure. It goes back to 1956. Vittal Mallya named his son ‘victory’ and promptly set up home with another woman. Vijay internalised that rejection and became a hawk-like observer. He waited, not as predator, but with caution.

For an unsure youth, his father’s recalling him to join the business was the sort of acceptance he was hungering for. He pottered around and became so good at those small crucial decisions that at 27 he took over the McDowell Group. Surrounded by sceptics who doubted his maturity, the insecure Vijay appointed himself chairman for life of the UB group.

Fear still stalks him. This is why a man who can afford the luxury of good grooming has no compunctions dressing up like a trussed-up mare. He gets noticed. Is that his strategy? But why would a man whose businesses span engineering, fertilisers, pharmaceuticals, paints, the media, horse-racing and liquor, which is the sixth largest brand reaching 40 countries, cry out for attention? Is it just his past of being left alone with his mother in Calcutta while his father made his name and life in Bangalore reason enough? Is he still fighting those demons when he has got everything and more?

It seems he is not at peace with himself. All of a sudden we found him in silk kurtas lighting incense sticks and organising religious soirees and promoting the Art of Living, when one thought he had mastered it. Was this a new spiritual awakening, or can we dare to insinuate that it is mere flamboyance, which he once admitted was “part of the brand building”? Mallya is no rebel. As one businessman analysed it, his pizza chain in the 80’s failed because he is not a great strategist.

Partly it is due to the fact that he revels in his NRI status. He wants to belong here yet be part of the larger world. He is a big man in India whereas he does not have the visibility of the Hindujas and Mittals overseas. Here, his every move is manna for the media, and he does not disappoint. He is like a collage of cartoon-strip characters -- Richie Rich, Archie, and Mandrake the magician. He provides entertainment value even when he is sitting cross-legged contemplating god.

He knows that popularity does not come cheap, so he is willing to go overboard. I hate to get into pop psychology, but there appears to be a juvenile mix of craving approval of and wreaking vengeance on the patriarchal world that in the shape of one man had once spurned him.

He may be surrounded by women, but they are only mannequins hovering around to sell his product – himself. Deep down for him, “home is where the family is”. And the homes are everywhere. Is he a nomad or a bird? Why does he want to spread his wings so far that he may be unable to fly? That is the point. He does not want to fly.

Do you remember that TV promo where he asked us not to drink and drive? What a wonderful little trick. The man of fast cars and fine booze telling the world to refrain from indulgences he is selling them.

Is he a protector or a pretender? Perhaps he is just a man with a fishing rod playing the role of angler while his eyes are set on the skies watching the kingfisher swoop down and do his work for him. He probably knows that everyone’s man is often no one’s man.