A CEO with a 'difference'

By his own admission, Prashanto Banerjee is a CEO with a "difference".

The Gail India chairman and managing director (CMD) doesn't play golf, was never a topper in his class, isn't an Indian Institute of Technology or Indian Institute of Management alumnus, insulates himself from office work from Saturday lunchtime to Monday morning, religiously avoids late-evening parties and "" this one, I thought, really makes him different "" actually takes time off to read something other than office files.

We are at Dehli Ka Aangan, the elegant restaurant at Hyatt Regency, which is just next door to Gail's headquarters at Bhikaji Kama Place.

Minutes earlier, as I entered the restaurant and enquired whether Banerjee had already come in, the waiter ushered me to a huge corner table with seven seats and told me that this was meant for "important people who wanted absolute privacy". I said I preferred a smaller table, but Banerjee's secretary, who had booked the table, had obviously briefed the restaurant manager well.

Taking a long sip of sweet lime juice, Banerjee says he likes the informal format of the Lunch with BS because it's "different" from the routine Q&A sessions he frequently has with journalists. The hint was quite clear and I quickly put him at ease by asking him about his life outside the corner office.

Books "" especially fiction "" are a passion and his favourite way of unwinding is to go out for a movie (latest Hindi blockbusters included) and dine out with his wife and close circle of friends. His only son works for AT Kearney and is posted abroad.

Music is another obsession and he talks passionately about how he grew up on Binaca Geet Mala and the golden voice of Ameen Sayani. "The radio and TV programmes have got slicker now but the haunting voice of Sayani was just fabulous," Banerjee says.

He orders a chicken soup, asks the steward to recommend the main course and looks curious when the steward asks him whether he would prefer a "shakahari" or "mashahari" kebab thali. "Mashahari kebab" sounds better, Banerjee tells him and looks reassured when the steward says it's the restaurant's special dish.

The Gail chief did his schooling in Patna ("I am as much a Bihari as Laloo Yadav") and studied mechanical engineering at the Institute of Technology at the Benaras Hindu University before joining Indian Oil Corporation (IOC) as a management trainee. A few years later "" when his career graph in IOC showed a steep climb, he did a full-time MBA course from the Jamnalal Bajaj Institute.

Before joining Gail in 2001, Banerjee "" then an executive director in IOC "" was also selected for the post of director (marketing) in IOC, but chose to join India's largest gas transmission and marketing company because he had a fair idea about the mind boggling changes that the gas sector was set to undergo and wanted to be a part of this.

"A marketing director in IOC is like an emperor. But after over 30 years in IOC, I wanted to be in an organisation where I would be an outsider and had to prove myself all over again," he says.

But wasn't it unusual for an executive director to join straight as the CEO of a public sector undertaking (PSU)? I ask. "Well it was something different, but no one should complain if I got a double promotion," comes the reply.

This example itself, Banerjee says, nails the lie that professionalism is absent in India's public sector enterprises. If somebody has the inclination and talent, there are enough opportunities for growth in PSUs.

But doesn't the interference of members of Parliament (MPs), who are eternally hungry for favours from PSUs, bother him? "Not really. Some of the MPs are quite knowledgeable and asks very intelligent questions," comes the predictable answer.

He says it's essential for a PSU manager to know how to manage requests. "I have a very good equation with MPs. Hindi is almost like my mother tongue and that's quite effective in developing a rapport with them," he says.

Everyday, he gets at least half a dozen requests for advertisements, but he approves only one every week. And he makes it a point to write to the MPs concerned about the reasons for turning down their requests. "Once you put everything in writing, half the problem is solved," he says.

He also doesn't lose sleep over the possibility of a talent exodus from Gail now that the sector is seeing an explosive growth. "I don't mind if Gail is called the Hindustan Lever of the public sector," the articulate CEO says, referring to the huge number of private sector honchos who are all ex-Lever employees.

He also feels that the huge contribution of the IOC management in the seventies to India's managerial talent pool often goes unrecognised and names over half a dozen of his counterparts in other PSUs who are all from IOC.

"Gail spends an enormous amount of money on training and gives opportunities for growth. We have a mission to retain talent but if people still leave for better growth, we can only wish all the best to them," he says.

The kebab thalis look quite inviting though the king size lobsters, the huge mutton and fish kebabs and the tandoori chicken are more than a mouthful. Banerjee, who has two back-to-back meetings after lunch, seems to have no such concerns and is relishing the exquisitely cooked food.

Banerjee considers himself lucky to head a Rs 12,000-crore PSU with just 3,400 employees, of which 2,000 are professionals. That made his job to launch "Parivartan" "" an elaborate scheme prepared by AT Kearney to push changes in the organisational structure and focus "" a bit easier.

From operating in a monopoly situation to a whole new world of competition requires a huge change in mindset and Parivartan, Banerjee says, has worked wonders: net profits soared to Rs 1,604 crore in the last financial year from Rs 1,100 crore in 2001-02; the company has become the nodal agency for development of a national gas grid, will invest Rs 20,000 crore over five years and has also gone in for gas exploration.

The main course is over and Banerjee accepts the waiter's suggestion of a phirni with some initial reluctance. The one person who has left a lasting impression on his mind is a former personnel manager of IOC who taught him the basics of managing from the frontline. When it came to removing of fax machines from Gail offices, it was the chairman's secretariat, which banished them first.

When it came to giving up the system of company-owned cars, the first car facility, which was outsourced, was the chairman's. "The average age of Gail employees is 36 and I figured out quite early in my career here that this young talent pool will follow only those who lead by example," Banerjee says.

To encourage his young managers to think on their feet, Banerjee often gifts management best sellers to his junior colleagues. The quid pro quo is that they have to make a presentation to the top management on how some of the management principles that they have read can be applied to improve Gail operations. The response, he says passionately, has been fantastic.

Lunch is over and I ask Banerjee why he didn't move in to the Asiad Village quarters meant for the Gail chairman. "I thought everyone knows my residence address by now," he says with a smirk. Clearly, the controversy "" it later turned out to be quite uncalled for "" has left its mark.

The Asiad village flat wasn't available when Banerjee took over and the company's board approved a proposal to buy a property at Safdarjang Enclave, which would also serve as the company's guest house.

All outstation general managers of Gail, who used to stay at Hyatt while on official work to Delhi, now stay at the guest house, which is just below the chairman's flat. The company, he says, has saved an enormous amount of money.

As the Mitsubishi Lancer waits for the half-a-minute drive to his office, I ask Banerjee about his plans after retirement. "That's four years away, but I would definitely like to utilise my vast experience in the oil and gas sector by being a consultant," he says.

For once, the Gail chairman wasn't being "different" from his counterparts in other companies.