Growing out of the Wadia label

LUNCH WITH BS: Ness Wadia

Ness Wadia

Ness Wadia talks to Shyamal Majumdar & Renni Abraham about his real estate plans, GenNext politicians and actor Preity Zinta, over kebabs and curry

On a bad day in office, Ness Wadia takes a short drive down Tulsi Pipe Road adjoining the sprawling Bombay Dyeing mill at the heart of Central Mumbai. He feels "blessed" to have a proper home when he sees the ubiquitous chawls on both sides of the narrow road.

"Try it out whenever you feel low. Tulsi Pipe Road is a great leveller," Ness says as we negotiate Mumbai's chaotic traffic on our way to ITC Grand Central Sheraton at Parel.

The hotel, built by ITC after demolishing a cigarette factory, is surrounded by many of the chawls Ness referred to and, hence, he seems to be in one of his "blessed" moods.

"I thank God a million times every day to have born into a well-to-do family," he says as we settle down at the very famous Kebabs and Kurries restaurant.

The scion of Wadia millions says he drives a Hyundai Accent to office, (for evening parties, however, he prefers an Accord), travels by train "whenever he misses a flight," works "incredibly hard", and follows all company rules (his father Nusli Wadia insisted he apply for three days casual leave when he went to Australia last month on a personal visit).

He hates being referred to as Mr Wadia and one of the first things he did after taking charge as deputy managing director of Bombay Dyeing was to issue a circular to his employees asking them to call him just Ness.

Throughout the lunch, he is desperate to drive the point home. "Forget the millions yaar, just look at the salary I get. Why don't you show them my salary slip?" he asks the visibly embarrassed PR person sitting next to him, while taking a deep sip of the sweet lime juice that we ordered.

The 34-year old eldest son of Nusli Wadia says people often don't realise how hard he has to work to live up to his father's expectations.

"Being the eldest son, I am pushed that much harder," he says. Example: he had to remain a management trainee for two-and-a-half years before getting his first promotion in 1995.

He also recollects another incident to prove his point. As deputy manager in Bombay Dyeing, he was suddenly asked to report to a new manager.

Perturbed, he went to the company president's cabin and asked whether it was proper to ask him to report to a new boss without any advance intimation. "My dear Ness," the president shot back, "Nobody can choose his boss."

He didn't have the nerves to complain to his father about it, but is now grateful to the president for opening his eyes to the fact that he could not expect any privileged status because of his surname.

The restaurant is half empty "" quite odd on a weekday in a busy office locality "" but we are told that it's because the place is under renovation.

Ness settles for an assortment of kebabs and asks the steward for lots of daal and roti. The food comes fast and going by the taste, it must be one of the best kebab joints in town.

Since he wants to grow out of the Wadia label, how does it feel like to be known as actress Preity Zinta's boyfriend, we ask.

For once, the handsome young man is groping for an answer. "It's perfectly fine with me as we meet each other as Ness and Preity and not as Mr Wadia and Ms Zinta. I admire her never-say-die spirit and her guts. The problem is I hardly get to see her these days as she has been away in Australia busy shooting for her film Salaam Namaskar," Ness says looking fondly at the yellow band on his right hand with an inscription "Live Stronger."

The other reason why he doesn't get to meet his girlfriend more often is the frenetic pace at which he has to work. He is in charge of the company's real estate plans, which includes drawing up plans for utilising the company's 59 acres of mill land at its Dadar and Worli units for setting up a chain of retail malls and huge residential and office complexes.

The pace of work has increased dramatically after a Supreme Court order paved the way for sale of mill land in Mumbai. The development plans of the private mills (some 60 textile mills own close to 600 acres in the heart of the metropolis) were put on hold by the Bombay High Court following a petition filed by the Bombay Environmental Action Group. The high court will now give its final order by July-end.

For dessert, Ness settles for an ice cream and calls up somebody in office to say the meeting he was supposed to attend has to be postponed slightly as he was busy. Clearly, we haven't done anything to disturb his "blessed" mood.

He is sick and tired over mill land owners being treated as the harijans of the real estate sector. "There are bad apples in every sector, why treat all of us so severely? If every other sector "" the pharmaceutical industry, the cigarette industry and so on "" is allowed to convert its land, why should the government discriminate against only the textiles sector?" he asks.

He also feels hurt with the way the government has taken people for granted.

"My friends who come from abroad take two hours from the airport to their hotel. What kind of impression will they carry back?" Ness says. He had high hopes on the younger generation of politicians, but feels they have done "nothing, absolutely nothing" for the city so far.

Will he join politics to set things right? "I am keeping my options open," comes the quick response.

Another thing that rankles him is the outside perception ("media creation, essentially," he says) of his father being aloof and arrogant.

"He worked in a different era, shunned publicity even for all the good work that he has done quietly. He also realises that times have changed ("from a typewriter era, my father has made a smooth transition to laptops") and has allowed us to talk. That's why I am here," Ness says.

Ness gives full credit to the "Sanawar magic" "" he studied at Lawrence School, Sanawar "" for making him aware of the realities of life.

"Never give in" was the military boarding school's motto and no one got any special treatment just because he was so and so's son. One of the saddest days of his life was when both Jeh (his younger bother) and he had to leave the school because of a perceived terrorist threat on them.

He also talks fondly about his days at the University of Warwick where he did MSc in Engineering Business Management. He used to stay in a barn and often had to cook himself, wash his own clothes and even clean the toilet in freezing temperature.

"I am grateful to my parents to allow me to have this experience. It has helped me realise that I can't expect any privileged treatment just because I am their child."

As we walk out of the hotel where his Accent is revving up, Ness stops for a while, notices that the lights are on in the portico and asks the guard why the hotel was wasting electricity.

"Sorry, Sir," the guard says, and quickly switches them off. The Sanawar magic is still working indeed.