#Tatastories: 40 Timeless Tales to Inspire You

by Harish Bhat

Here, on 3 March 1839, a son was born to Nusserwanji Tata, who came from a Parsi Zoroastrian priestly family. This boy was Jamsetji Tata, founder of the Tata Group.

He studied at Elphinstone College there, and developed a deep love of reading. His favourite authors were Charles Dickens and William Makepeace Thackeray, and he also enjoyed the humorous writings of Mark Twain. His books provided him a wonderful window to the world.

Then, in 1868, he established a private trading firm with a capital of Rs 21,000. That was the start of the Tata Group.

A few years later, in 1874, he founded his first major industrial venture, the Central India Spinning, Weaving and Manufacturing Company Limited, at Nagpur. This venture is popularly referred to as Empress Mills.

Empress Mills was an extraordinary endeavour, and it also revealed this young man’s future promise. He was convinced of the benefits of long-stapled cotton as the best raw material for these mills, and therefore devoted a lot of his attention to improving the cultivation of cotton in India. He also quickly and confidently invested in new manufacturing i...

But mere profits were not the real reason why Empress Mills was so special. Here, in the nineteenth century, when human resource development was an unheard-of concept, Jamsetji Tata introduced a gratuitous pension fund for the workers of the mills, in 1887. This was the first of its kind in the country. In 1895, he established an accident compensation scheme for workers. In 1901, he introduced a Provident Fund scheme for his workers. This was the first time ever in India that this concept had been introduced. Each of these schemes,...

Speaking in 1895, he explained this new way: ‘We do not claim to be more unselfish, more generous, or more philanthropic than other people. But, we think, we started on sound and straightforward business principles, considering the interests of our shareholders our own, and the h...

This deep and abiding love led him to conceptualize India’s first integrated steel mill, the country’s first grand luxury hotel, and an Indian university of science education and research.

For the past 125 years, they have contributed consistently to the community, investing significantly in education, health, livelihoods, art and culture. These public charitable trusts own 66 per cent of the equity shares of Tata Sons, the parent company of the Tata Group. As a result of this unique ownership structure, a significant proportion of the profits of Tata Sons flow to the Tata Trusts, which in turn invest these funds back into the community.

India’s first integrated steel plant. India’s first major hydroelectric power company. India’s first commercial airline. The company that put India on the global IT services map. The first indigenous Indian car. Branded iodized salt, which changed the way India consumes its food. Branded jewellery, which has transformed one of the country’s largest markets. And many more.

Over the past five years, he had led the life of a parivrajaka, a wandering monk. In 1892, upon meditation on a rock at Kanyakumari, he had ‘a vision of one India’, of organizing monks for the progress and upliftment of the nation.

Also on board the ship was Jamsetji Tata, a well-known merchant of Mumbai and founder of the Tata Group. He had been to Japan for discussions on shipping, and during this visit, he had also seen with admiration the commendable progress made by Japan in several areas, including industry and sericulture. Now, he too, like the Swamiji, was on his way to Chicago, to visit the World Columbian Exposition where advancements in various areas, including science and technology, were being showcased. This great fair was being held in 1893 to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the New World.

Jamsetji Tata was greatly impressed with Vivekananda, and is known to have later told Sister Nivedita, one of Swamiji’s best-known disciples, that when ‘Swami was in Japan everyone was struck by his likeness to Buddha’.

From some secondary sources, Swamiji is reported to have inquired of Jamsetji why he imported Japanese matches into India. He then pleaded with the industrialist to instead set up a match factory in India to create employment and preserve national wealth. It is quite possible (though

in 1892, to send a few chosen Indian students to England for higher education. He had created an endowment fund specifically for this purpose, and he was very proud of his scholars.

Swamiji must have stayed on in Jamsetji Tata’s mind because five years later, in 1898, when he was ready with his ambitious plans for the establishment of the Indian Institute of Science, he wrote to Swami Vivekananda. Here is the letter he wrote.

He also committed an endowment of Rs 30 lakh towards this project. In 1898, this was a fabulous sum of money; a gift of this nature had previously been unheard of. This

prominent Indian of that time, writing in The Hindu newspaper, said—‘Mother Bharati has long been crying for a man among her children, and in Mr Tata she has found the son of her heart.’

He had completed very successful lecture tours in the USA, UK and Europe, and left a great impression everywhere. In 1897, he had returned to India and founded the Ramakrishna Mission in Kolkata.

Swami Vivekananda had sparked great interest and pride across the Western world in India’s spiritual heritage. At the same time, he knew that promoting science and industrialization was essential for economic progress and the upliftment of the nation. He was terribly upset by the economic misery of his countrymen and had spoken of the need ‘to organize monks for industrial purposes, that they might give the people the benefit of this industrial education, and thus elevate them and improve their condition’. Therefore,

was actually printed, but in April 1899, Prabuddha Bharata, the monthly journal of the Ramakrishna Order, which had been started by Swami Vivekananda, published a wonderfully detailed page of observations, which were virtually a reply to Jamsetji Tata’s appeal. It would appear that these observations were written either by Swamiji himself or by someone who had been advised by him.

We are not aware if any project at once so opportune and so far-reaching in its beneficial effects was ever mooted in India, as that of the postgraduate research University of Mr Tata. The scheme grasps the vital point of weakness in our national well-being with a clearness of vision and tightness of grip, the masterliness of which is only equaled by the munificence of the gift which it is ushered to the public. Mr Tata’s scheme paves the path for placing into the hands of Indians this knowledge of nature . . . By some the scheme is regarded as chimerical, because of the immense amount of money required for it, to wit about Rs 74 lakh. The best reply to this fear is: If one man—and he not the richest in the land—could find 30 lakh, could not the whole country find the rest? It is ridiculous to think otherwise, when the interest sought to be served is of the paramount importance. We repeat: No idea more potent for good to the whole nation has seen the light of day in modern India. Let the whole nation, therefore, forgetful of class or sect interests, join in making it a success.

Eventually, adequate funding was obtained and the Indian Institute of Science was born in Bangalore in 1911.

Sadly, neither Swami Vivekananda nor Jamsetji Tata lived to see the birth of this institute. Swamiji attained samadhi in 1902. Jamsetji Tata passed away in 1904.

Chances are also high that you will find, painted on the back of the truck, the two words ‘OK TATA’.

I have often wondered, why OK TATA? The best answer I have found is in the life of Sumant Moolgaokar, the brilliant engineer–technocrat who headed Tata Motors (then called TELCO) for several years. J.R.D. Tata appointed him director-in-charge of TELCO in 1949.

During the period of collaboration with Daimler-Benz, once a week, all the parts rejected by the German technicians were displayed publicly, and a post-mortem was held on what had gone wrong with each of these components. This was often a painful exercise for the Indian engineers, but it ensured that quality moved up quickly to German levels.

Moolgaokar turned around and told him, ‘Maira, trifles make for perfection. And perfection is no trifle. You will strip the machine and build it again, with everything perfect this time.’

Moolgaokar famously said, ‘Do not accept second-rate work. Expect the best, ask for it, pursue it relentlessly, and you will get it.’ He also asked for the best ancillary parts from all his suppliers, and thus played a big role in elevating engineering standards across the country. Tata trucks continue to be known for their robust quality.

Moolgaokers knack for perfection

There was a period in the 1970s when Tata trucks were in short supply. Hence, the trucks were being sold by middlemen at a premium of around Rs 40,000 per truck. Moolgaokar naturally faced a lot of pressure from various quarters to raise prices and take advantage of the constrained supplies. Tata Motors, under his leadership, stood steadfast, and refused to profiteer by doing so. Later, Moolgaokar was asked by the historian R.M. Lala why he took this decision. Here is his answer: ‘Profits should come from productivity and not by raising prices in a favourable market,’ said Moolgaokar, ‘our greatest asset is customer affection.’

was intrigued, and read up some history. When land was first bought for this factory, Moolgaokar insisted that trees be planted around the factory, as well as an artificial lake to store and supply water for the nurturing of these trees. At that time, he was criticized for spending Rs 15 lakhs to create the lake. But today, this man-made wetland of 245 acres holds 60 million gallons of water, has dense green cover with over 1,50,000 trees, has supplied thousands of fruit trees to surrounding villages, and is a beautiful haven for over 150 species of migratory birds and sixty types of butterflies.

J.R.D. Tata once said about this fascinating initiative: ‘We did not have to create a lake and plant trees to produce a truck. But we did. What I am most proud about is not the making of steel or trucks, but our social concern.’

Think of all this, and think of Sumant Moolgaokar when you next see ‘OK TATA’ on a truck. No wonder Tata Motors named one of its first crossover vehicles as ‘Sumo’, in tribute to him—borrowing the first two letters of his first name and second name, respectively.

The first woman of Indian origin to go into space, she first flew on Space Shuttle Columbia in 1997 as a technical specialist and robot arm operator. An asteroid, as well as a satellite, have been named after her.

Kalpana Chawla lost her life at the young age of forty years in the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster in 2003. The spacecraft she was travelling in disintegrated during its re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere and all seven crew members unfortunately perished.

Sometime after her demise, Kalpana Chawla’s family wrote to the chairman of the Tata Group, Ratan Tata. This was a unique letter because it contained some special memorabilia. There was a crew-autographed group picture of the Space Shuttle Mission STS-87 (her first Space Shuttle Mission), a pair of medallions commemorating her two space journeys, and an old black-and-white photograph. This was the photograph of J.R.D. Tata’s inaugural mail flight, which Kalpana Chawla had carried along with her on her first mission into space. Here was a heartfelt tribute from a young girl to her hero. To a man who had inspired her to travel all the way from a small town in Punjab to the far reaches of outer space—J.R.D. Tata.

the year in which Kalpana Chawla left India for the USA to pursue her master’s in aerospace engineering. In that very year, J.R.D. Tata did something special that inspired millions of Indians. He piloted the flight commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of India’s very first commercial flight, which he had himself flown in 1932 from Karachi to Mumbai. In 1932, that inaugural mail flight had launched India’s civil aviation industry but at that time J.R.D. was a strapping young man. Now, in 1982, J.R.D. Tata was seventy-eight years of age, and yet he was determined to go ahead and pilot the commemorative flight himself.

Three weeks before the date of the flight, J.R.D. had suffered a minor heart attack but recovered quickly. Seeing his steely determination, his consulting physician and cardiologist decided to permit him to fly because the emotional strain of abandoning his cherished dream could have been even greater than the physical strain of flying. On 15 October 1982, J.R.D. Tata, seventy-eight years old, took to the skies and flew once again from Karachi to Mumbai to recreate that pioneering first flight of fifty years ago. His old friend Captain Vishwanath was his co-pilot. All the way from Pakistan to India flew J.R.D., the grand patriarch, a man who had done his best for his nation throughout his lifetime. As he neared Mumbai, two Air Force helicopters escorted the little plane for a short distance—their salute to the grand old man—and then they departed. J.R.D. Tata landed at the Juhu aerodrome in Mumbai at 4 p.m. sharp, having circled in the air for a few minutes to avoid landing early. There he was, as punctual as ever.

that despite all the difficulties, all the frustrations, there is a joy in having done something as well as you could, and better than others thought you could.’

The treasured photographs that Kalpana Chawla’s family sent to Ratan Tata are now displayed in the Tata Central Archives in Pune just outside the beautifully recreated office of J.R.D. Tata. This was done in line with her family’s request so that this tribute to the man who inspired her rests just outside his door.

Ratan Tata, who was then chairman of the Tata Group and Tata Motors, stood up in 1995 to express his ambitions for the nation. He said, ‘We’ll have a car with the Zen’s size, the Ambassador’s internal dimensions, the price of a Maruti 800 and with the running cost of diesel.’

In many ways, this courageous decision brought to mind the determination of Jamsetji Tata, more than a century ago, to create India’s first integrated steel plant. At that time, he had to override the cynical reaction of the British, who thought that Indians could never make their own steel. Now, history was repeating itself.

Everyone agreed that it was clearly ahead of its time. It was very distinctive compared to the other cars of that period and had unmistakable international appeal.

Then there was the question of the car manufacturing facility itself. A new manufacturing unit could have cost more than $2 billion at that stage, a huge amount that possibly would have rendered the project a non-starter. Here, again, Ratan Tata and his team at Tata Motors took a road less travelled and it ended up making all the difference. They searched around the world and found a disused Nissan plant in Australia, which was offered to them for sale at barely one-fifth of the cost of a new plant. Engineers of Tata Motors carefully dismantled this plant—brick by brick—carried it across the seas, and rebuilt it in Pune. It took just six months to accomplish this Herculean task.

The Tata Indica was launched in 1998 to fabulous bookings and response. But it soon encountered several engineering and quality problems—uneven tyre wear, belt noise and defective pulleys—which came in for a lot of criticism.

The team worked very hard, and it succeeded. A new, robust Indica was ready by 2001 with all the key quality problems addressed and completely eliminated. It was launched as Tata Indica V2, with the punchline ‘Even more car per car’.

It became the fastest-selling automobile in Indian history when it completed the sale of 1,00,000 cars in less than eighteen months.

Why did Ratan Tata take on the challenge of making India’s own car? Listen to his words: ‘I had a strong conviction,’ he says, ‘that our engineers, who could put a rocket into space, could produce our own car. And when we took up the challenge, we went out and got expertise wherever it was necessary.

The steel city of Jamshedpur was teeming with excitement in August 1925. Mahatma Gandhi was coming to visit the town where India’s first integrated steel plant had been established by Jamsetji Tata.

Mahatma Gandhi knew of Jamsetji Tata’s enterprise. Indeed, in 1905, soon after Jamsetji’s passing, he had written in the Indian Opinion newspaper, ‘In whatever he did, Mr Tata never looked to self-interest. He never cared for any titles from the Government, nor did he ever take distinctions of caste or race into consideration . . . His simplicity was remarkable. May India produce many Tatas!’