couldn't be more different from the other comrades in his party. As I walk into West Bengal Infotech Minister Manabendra Mukherjee's office on Camac Street a little early, I am treated to a cup of tea from a thermos flask "" a typical Bengali courtesy extended to a guest.
Mukherjee then lights an India Kings and, having spotted my significant glance at the packet and guessing my thoughts (a Marxist smoking premium cigarettes), hastens to explain: "Somebody has given this to me. I usually smoke Wills Filter," referring to the universal name that all Kolkatans give to Wills Navy Cut.
The only other luxury item on his table is his Sony Ericsson mobile that doubles as a PC on which he can check his email. Is he the Pramod Mahajan of the CPI(M) "" a modern and flashy organiser with a style, I ask teasingly.
"I am happy being Manab Mukherjee who buys fresh vegetables every day from the market and indulges in adda in the para (local) tea shop," he retorts, referring to that quintessential Bengali institution of idle conversation.
Don't mistake the self-deprecation; Mukherjee is the man to watch as the Leftist West Bengal government makes a sharp right-turn towards capitalism, irrespective of what comrades at the Centre might think. He heads the ministry that aims to take the lead from Bangalore in making Kolkata India's next desi Silicon Valley.
That is why many considered it a symbolic gesture when Mukherjee shifted out of the gothic structure of Writers Buildings, the seat of power for the state government, to the more central Camac Street. The move, he explains, was intended to make him more accessible to the people.
Perhaps Mukherjee's non-ideological matter-of-factness stems from the fact that he is a first-generation politician, not greatly influenced by the rhetoric that contributed to West Bengal's great leap back. At 49, he is West Bengal's youngest member of the Legislative Assembly, having been elected from Beleghata in north Kolkata four times in a row.
His educational credentials, too, are different from the senior Marxist rulers. Instead of law or economics, Mukherjee is a physics graduate from St Xavier's College and a post-graduate in business management from Calcutta University. His wife is now Calcutta University's youngest professor in economics.
Of course, he's done his share of activism in university, as a central executive committee member of the Student Federation of India (SFI), the students' wing of the CPI (M).
He was also the general secretary of the West Bengal unit of the Democratic Youth Federation of India (DYFI) "" the youth wing of the CPI(M). The latter was a post once held by Chief Minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharya. Not surprisingly, people see Mukherjee as Bhattacharya's protege.
Tea and preliminary adda over, Mukherjee and I cross the road to Grain of Salt, currently the most happening place in Job Charnock's city, run by the famous TV chef Sanjeev Kapoor.
Not a soul follows him "" a refreshing, if strange change from the self-acquired gravitas of even the most insignificant politician in West Bengal. Mukherjee introduces himself to the manager and asks for a corner table where he can smoke and we can talk undisturbed.
Is Grain of Salt his favourite restaurant in the city, I ask. Actually no, it is merely a convenient place to meet, located on the fifth floor of the mall just opposite his office. "Frankly, my favourite eating place is the dining table at home," he says.
Mukherjee opts for the buffet and asks for bottled water. He betrays the traditional Bengali weakness for non-vegetarian fare, adding both mutton and chicken curry to the dahi vada on his plate. The waiter puts some tandoori rotis on our table as we resume our conversation.
West Bengal is such a latecomer to India's IT race, did the state have to wait until Bhattacharya took over as chief minister?
"This has nothing to do with who's the chief minister. The Communists do not jump into things. They discuss things and take a decision when they are absolutely sure. We're a late starter but we will overtake other states," Mukherjee says with conviction.
Right now, 205 companies are operating in West Bengal. Of these, 160 are pure IT outfits and 35 IT-enabled services companies.
"Some 22,000 people are employed in the sector. This number will go up to 60,000 next year and 4.5 lakh by 2010," Mukherjee reels off the numbers with quiet pride.
The Marxist state's IT boom couldn't have had more capitalist origins, starting with recommendations from McKinsey. "The challenge, of course, was correcting the perceptions about the state in three critical areas "" trade union activities, power and traffic," Mukherjee says.
The trade union-related problem was tackled by making IT an essential service. "The work is 24x7x365. No bandh can affect it. Webel, the state's IT company, issues stickers to the IT companys' cars so that they can ply during any bandh, undisturbed," Mukherjee says.
The power situation was tackled by spending 30 per cent of all plan allocation every year on power. West Bengal, thus, is now a surplus power state. The traffic congestion has been eased by constructing flyovers. The city now has five flyovers (one of them is 2.9 km long "" the longest flyover in India) and another seven are in the making.
Both the IT hubs "" at Salt Lake and Rajarhat "" are located close to the airport and by 2010, they will be connected by metro rail. "We are also planning four satellite IT hubs at Siliguri, Durgapur, Haldia and Kharagpur "" all situated on the Golden Quadrilateral," he says.
He is also quick to point to Kolkata's advantages over Hyderabad. "Unlike Hyderabad, we are going for IT but not neglecting the rural economy. As our chief minister says Pa thakbe matithe, matha akashe [Our legs are firmly rooted on ground but heads held high]. There is no fundamental change in our ideology."
I decide to provoke him again, wondering aloud whether all this progress took place after Jyoti Basu retired. Mukherjee is diplomatic, ascribing it to the liberalisation of 1991. "That's the cut-off date. The work started then and now we are seeing the results. There is a lag effect," he says.
So how, I persist, is Bhattacharya different from Basu? Again, suave diplomacy: "Jyoti Basu has been a great statesman. I will proudly tell my grandchildren that I was part of his Cabinet. Bhattacharya is a team man, he is physically there with you."
As he chooses dessert "" pineapple mousse, caramel custard and freshly-cut fruit "" I ask him about his party's role at the Centre. It has not joined the government and, yet, is dictating terms from outside "" a classic case of power without responsibility.
"We will never create a situation that allows the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) to come back to power. At the same time, we have not given the Congress-led government a blank cheque. We will go by the Common Minimum Programme and criticise the government whenever there is deviation from it," Mukherjee declares.
Does he support the Centre's economic policies? "We don't support reckless liberalisation. You can't withdraw governance and allow the market to take over," he says.
But hasn't the Left in West Bengal been doing just that? "Not in that sense. We are closing non-viable state undertakings. Whenever possible, we are retraining the employees and re-deploying them. Instead of wasting Rs 50 crore on a dying factory, we would rather spend the money on primary schools," he says pragmatically.
Lunch over, he walks back to his office. As the mellow November sun shines on this New Age communist, I idly flip his business card. On the other side is the legend: "Advantage Bengal". Mukherjee would have you believe he's about to serve an ace.
