Lockdown taught me to be self-sufficient, revisit Bollywood: Citi India CEO

Khullar also lets on that he has managed to do very well alone, something he wasn't sure of, and credits some of it to his love of Bollywood.

After what feels like ages, I step inside the Chambers, the restricted, members-only dining club at the Taj Mahal Palace in Mumbai. I have a lunch meeting with Ashu Khullar, Citi India’s CEO and the man in charge of its Bangladesh and Sri Lanka operations.
 

I find Khullar, dressed in a white shirt and blue suit without a tie, sitting at a white linen-covered table facing the Arabian Sea — presenting a long-familiar view that I am seeing for only the first time in this dreary year.
 

He enquires about my well-being as I take a seat. Unlike his predecessor, Pramit Jhaveri, who was a consummate South Bombay insider, Khullar is new to the city, having moved here just a year ago, although he’s long been part of the Citi family.

“Where is the British accent?” I ask the man who has spent close to two decades working across positions in England and Hong Kong with Citibank. “One tends to try to fit in much more in America than in London, which is a cultural mosaic made up of all the accents you can think of,” he says.
 

In India, Citi employs approximately 19,600 people and serves close to 2.5 million customers, ranging from top corporate houses to entrepreneurs, with services that include foreign exchange, investment banking, cash management, trade, credit cards, e-commerce banking and distribution of mutual funds.
 

Khullar notes my diary and recorder and asks if I type or write interviews. Both, I reply. “I usually write out everything unless it’s official,” he shares, adding that speed-typing high volumes of messages is prone to errors.
 

It’s his first physical lunch meeting and interview since March. Ditto for me.
 

I look at the length of the table between us. It’s around 5 feet and feels a little odd, but it also seems safe. “We’re making history,” Khullar quips, as he thanks me for persuading him to venture out. “It gave me a chance to wear my suit, and thank god it still fits,” he adds.
 

Like most of his ilk running banks today, Khullar wasn’t to the manor born. His father, who was a professor of literature at Delhi University, was more right-brained than left, he says. He was also editor of The Poetry Society (India), which translated poems to English. “He did his PhD on Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass,” Khullar says, adding. “I miss him (he died in 2008).”
 

Our orders preceded our arrival — a post-Covid consequence of the digital touch-free world we inhabit. Coincidentally, we both picked Lebanese. My orange juice and kibbe arrive, as do Khullar’s jasmine tea and hummus dip. The kibbe, a deep fried ground lamb starter, dry and fragrant, is close to perfection.
 

Despite the lockdown, Citi and Khullar have been busy. Recent deals include advising Saudi Arabian sovereign wealth fund, the Public Investment Fund, or PIF, to invest $1.5 billion in the Reliance Jio Platforms; advising Schneider Electric’s buyout of Larsen & Tubro’s (L&T’s) switcher business for $2 billion (Canadian); the structuring and marketing of HDFC Ltd’s $2.3-billion triple barrelled qualified institutional placement (QIP) of equity, non-convertible debentures and warrants; and leading and advising Bharti Airtel’s $3-billion combined offering of QIP of equity and foreign currency convertible bond.
 

As we tuck into the starters, I ask about life under lockdown. Khullar’s wife and two sons are in the UK, but he’s been mostly here. “I’ve become a caveman. I cook a lot, and find that hugely therapeutic.” He even rustles up Indian food, including dal. “I think I make the best masala tinda (Indian squash) in the world,” he says.
 

He also lets on that he has managed to do very well alone, something he wasn’t sure of, and credits some of it to his love of Bollywood. Especially Amitabh Bachchan. Since the pandemic struck, Khullar says he has binged on Bachchan classics such as Sharaabi, Silsila, Parvarish, Kaala Patthar and many more. “I actually remember which movie hall I had watched each one in, so it was like going down memory lane.”
 

Just as we are talking movies, a scene from a crime thriller plays out in front of us. Two men in dark masks sneak in silently towards us, like assassins. I flinch and then realise it’s the waiters with our lunch.
 

Main course for me is pan-fried sea bass on a bed of crunchy vegetables; Khullar’s is chicken stewed in saffron and gravy. “The one thing I miss in India is easy availability of good sushi,” he says. I agree.
 

“Where do you work out?” I ask as we start. Khullar looks way younger than his 54 years. He clocks at least 10,000 steps a day and also follows fitness trainer Joe Wicks online, he shares.
 

A Delhi native, Khullar graduated in commerce and went to the Indian Institute of Management Ahmedabad for a master’s degree. He confesses that he always thought his dream job would be advertising for Unilever. He did apply but failed to make the cut. Instead, he joined Citibank at 21.
 

He recalls how his immediate superior, Piyush Gupta (who later became the boss at DBS Bank), said that he was disappointed and had expected much more from him. “You only come here and do what is needed. I want you to do something extra,” he was told. Khullar says it was a kick in the rear, but it ingrained something in him forever.
 

I’m done with my fish, which was crunchy yet succulent, but Khullar’s saffron chicken is left half-eaten.
 

Given that his work résumé reads like the dictionary definition for loyalty, Khullar agrees that he is likely to do the India round for at least four years. India is a complex market that needs that much time, he says, adding that he took the job not because it was India but because it was right.
 

For dessert, we’d opted for baklava, a West Asian pastry layered with honey, stuffed with nuts and served in neat one-inch-by-one inch square cubes. Easy to relish, simple to get hold of.
 

Khullar steals a look at his Rolex Submariner, and we realise two hours have flown. As we wrap up, checking our phones for the next round of calls and meetings, I ask what’s his pick for an online platform — Microsoft Teams, Webex or Zoom.
 

“Zoom. It’s simple. Works for me,” he replies, as he tosses his napkin on the table and we head out of our bubble and into the real world.