The Man Who Wouldnt Be King

In fact, I am free for lunch tomorrow, why dont we meet at the India International Centre, asks Vikram Lal. This is the day after he announced he is stepping down as the chairman of the Rs 950-crore Eicher group of companies and he is obviously pleased that he can accommodate an appointment at very short notice. I tell him that I would prefer it if he chose another restaurant hoping that he would choose a place with more dramatic potential, but after going through a list of five-star restaurants that he doesnt particularly like, he plumps for Nirulas Chinese Room, the very middle class restaurant in Connaught Place.

I should have guessed. Fifty-five-year-old Lal is known for his understated lifestyle and the tight control he keeps on his finances. He drives an Esteem which has run 50,000 kilometres already and before that he used to drive a Zen. He keeps a Bullet motorcyle at home and on weekends, takes it out for a 50-km drive out of the city. He acquired an Audi when he was talking to the foreign car maker for a joint venture, but he rarely takes it out because its too ostentatious. He started keeping a regular driver only in the last one year or so, and that too because parking is a big problem. Dressed casually in a plain white shirt and greyish trousers, he looks more like a senior bank professional than a businessman. His painfully plain visiting card just says: Vikram Lal, Eicher Goodearth Limited, no designation, no embellishments. He could have written Vikram Lal, Chairman, Supervisory Board, Eicher Group, but he hasnt. This is my new card, and this is probably the sixth or seventh I am giving out, he says. Lal has already destroyed his old set of cards because he doesnt want them to be floating around. He is only mildly taken aback when the waiter asks much later, when we are ready to leave, whether he should pack the left-over food for us. He laughs, and the embarrassed waiter says apologetically: We are supposed to ask everyone this.

Lal probably forgot the custom because he was here many, many years ago. When I was young, I used to come here because the owner is a friend of mine and we used to have dinner here often, he says. But he has not forgotten his favourite dish. When the time comes for ordering food, he tells the waiter No 87 without even looking at the menu. I look it up and No 87 reads: Cabbage Cream, Rs 70. This is the only place where I have found this and it is delicious, says Lal. We have already had our soups -- Lal went for Wan-Tan vegetable soup, Rs 50 -- and he now asks for my preferences. Lals choice is Chinese Chopsuey, Rs 70, and we go with the waiters recommendation for the second dish: Prawn Chillies, Rs 210. It is not that Lal is particularly fond of Chinese food: I like Indian food best, especially south Indian food, but I like Italian and Chinese as well, he says, relishing the Chop-Suey and using the chopsticks skilfully -- he had specifically asked the waiter for a bowl and chopsticks.

Lal brings a method to most things he does. He says he considers himself a problem-solver rather than a businessman. Was there a problem when he first told his family that he wanted to give up management control of the group he had built up? He says his wife was sceptical when he put the idea to her six or seven years ago. She was worried that he had not thought through it, that it was too early and so on. She was probably right, he says now, it may have been too too early. But why did he decide to give up control? I am only formalising a situation that already existed, he says, adding: I had a bypass in 1985 and after that, I never got back into detailed management. His involvement now, he says, is in quarterly review meetings where the performances of the companies are dissected. I make my views known and as a major shareholder, they carry their weight, he says. Was Subodh Bhargava, the well-known professional manager and second-in-command to whom Vikram Lal has handed over his job, surprised by

his decision? Not really, we have worked together for over 20 years now and we have discussed these things much earlier. So he knew it was on the way.

What does his stepping down mean for his children? What role will they have in the company? Lal has two daughters and a son: the eldest daughter is married and lives in Bangalore, the others are studying abroad. He says its only Sidharth, his 24-year-old son who may have, if he desires, a role in the company. His daughters will have shareholding, but no operational responsibilities. I am quite clear in my mind that ownership and management are two different things. There is no reason why one should always go with the other, he says. He can visualise Sidharth holding a job that fits his experience and skills in one of his companies, but it is not necessary that he should be in top management. He may have a position on the board as a shareholder, but that is quite separate from being in management. He could be a director and hold a junior job within the company. This is common in many multinational companies.

He agrees that the new low-tax regime makes it worthwhile for major shareholders to remain shareholders rather than force themselves to be in day-to-day management. I have certain rights as a shareholder and those dont go away because I have given up operational control, he adds. Lal has a 45 to 60 per cent stake in his companies and he doesnt see that changing. What if, for the sake of letting his companies grow to their full potential, he needed much more capital than he can raise on his own? Will he let his stake go down then? These are some of the issues I will have to deal with as chairman of the supervisory board, he says. But as a general rule, he thinks too low a stake would mean someone else taking control of the company rather than the company becoming more

professional or efficient. In the immediate future, Lal thinks he will have a little more time to spend on his favourite pursuits -- he has a collection of over 400 paintings, he loves to holiday in Manali where he owns a home and keeps a Mahindra Armada ready and he is a trustee of the World Wildlife Fund.

By now, the manager of the restaurant has come around thrice asking whether we are all right -- obviously, word has gone around that their guest is a friend of the owners -- and its time for dessert. Lal asks for Chinese jasmine tea - not my favourite brew, but Lal has two cups of it. The bill comes and it reads Rs 685. Im sure Lal would have approved.