I had met Russi Mody at social occasions before but I did not know him well. In 1992, I was in my office in Price Waterhouse, when I received a call from him directly. He said, “Mr. Roy, I would like to discuss with you the Tata-Korf accounts, can I come and see you?” This was a most unusual request. It is my belief that never in the past or since, the Chairman and Managing Director of Tata Steel has requested a meeting with a partner of a public accounting firm in his office. The matter ought to be quite serious. I told him that I would reach his office next day.
I requested my senior partner Satyabrata Ghosh to accompany me and we went straight up to the corner office of Tata Centre which has a beautiful view of Victoria Memorial Hall and the greens. He sat with two brief-cases, one brown and the other black on two sides of the table. He had two pairs of glasses which he juggled with, as he talked.
He did not beat about the bush, “Your firm Price Waterhouse is the auditor of Tata-Korf Engineering Services ,which is a joint venture between Tata Steel and Korf KG. In 1990, the owner of Korf K.G. and my friend, Willy Korf gifted a Cessna aircraft to the JV which I fly. But they want to take it away from me and I would not let it happen. That is the beginning and end of the story.”
We explained to Mr. Mody that we had no role to play in any dispute over the ownership of the aircraft, and our audit opinion would be qualified if we were not satisfied. The situation was complicated because the “donor” of the aircraft Will Korf had died in November 1990 when his private aircraft crashed into the Kellerjoch Mountain, 32 km west of Innsbruck, Austria. There were people who did not believe the gift and the Enforcement Directorate began an enquiry. We qualified the audit opinion.
For the record, the Enforcement Directorate could not establish any irregularity and closed the investigation in 1997. But the aircraft was really the tip of the ice-berg. Trouble was brewing for Russi Mody. He was soon removed by the Board of Tata Steel and replaced by Jamshed Irani. Mody quietly rode into his sunset in Tata Steel, a company he had once personified.
I came to work closely with Russi Mody later. Lady Ranu Mukherjee was the Chairman of the Academy of Fine Arts in Calcutta and both Russy and I served on the Board of Trustees. When Lady Ranu passed away, Russi took over as the Chairman. Several of the meetings of the Board were held at his residence at 5/1 B, Belvedere Road in Alipore. He was the most gracious host and served excellent dinners. Occasionally, Russi himself cooked the odd dish.
On his birthday which was the 17th of January, he invited his friends to his home. He used to regale us with stories and sang songs in English, French and Italian while he played the piano. Russi was an accomplished musician and in London he once on the piano while Einstein played the violin. Towards the end of his life, he would fall asleep while singing but as soon as he woke up, he would remarkably start from the line at which he had stopped.
He was short and stocky. If you asked him, “How are you Russi?” He would bark back, “Oh, I am fat and fit.” His favourite leader in history was Napoleon. Once he asked me, “Have you ever seen statues of committees in public parks? Never. You find only statues of heroes who have made a difference. All game-changing deeds, good or evil, are done by individuals, not by committees or organizations”.
Rusi Mody used to tell anecdotes about his days in England. He had studied at Harrow and then went on to graduate at Oxford’s Christ Church College. While at College, his father Sir Homi Mody, a famous barrister and businessman from Bombay, came to visit his son. He asked Russi how he was doing. Russi told his father, “Daddy, I do not know where my next meal will come from”. Very concerned, Sir Homi reached for his cheque book to write a large amount to his son by which time Russi had completed the sentence, “Whether it will come from Claridges or the Savoy Grill”. Russi told us that his mother had consulted a Parsi astrologer who had correctly predicted, he said, that Russi will never have a lot of money in his bank account but will always live like a King”.
There is another famous tale. In a hurry, he had parked his car inappropriately in front of Bombay House, the headquarters of the Tatas. When he came back, a police constable was waiting, “You have wrongly parked the car, do you think this street belongs to your father?” Russi replied, “Yes, of course. Can’t you read English? Look at the signage. It says says Homi Mody Street and he is indeed my father.” At this the constable laughed and said, “Letting you go this time, don’t do it again.”
Russi Mody served Tata Steel for more than five decades. Modernizing the steel-making process was not his real contribution. He successfully created a deep bench of human talent from which all his successors emerged and took the company to greater heights. Russi was really a people’s man. These were his famous lines, “What is man management? That one must behave naturally with any human being.”
Upon his death Ratan Tata had said, “Russi Mody was an institution at Tata Steel. Under his leadership, the company grew significantly, and he instituted many human resource initiatives. Throughout his career, he was respected by the work force. He lived a full and energetic life and will always be remembered by his friends.” Tata Sons chairman Cyrus P. Mistry said Mody was a stalwart who steered Tata Steel to become one of India’s most-respected corporations. “His vision was all encompassing: excellence in business, enduring commitment to society and focus on the dignity of the individual,” he said about Mody.
I remember one incident that would illustrate how he would put all his energies and passion into what he worked on. When Aditya Kashyap, his partner, became the President of Bengal Club, Russi used to come often as a guest of Aditya, as he was not a member. He devoted several days reorganizing the lay-out of the Club library which has some of the rarest books in the country and has a rather cozy reading area. And the end of it all, the place had Russi’s touch of class.
He died at 96, in Calcutta, mourned by his numerous friends who still miss his warmth, frolic and joie de vivre.