A story which is as aspirational as it offers many lessons to learn from…this biography of a hotel baron is like no other and everyone should read it!

Reviewed by Pankajbala R Patel

MOST biographies of great men and women can be boring stuff. But not this one! “Capture the Dream: The Many Lives of Captain C.P. KrishnanNair” (published by Jaggernaut Books, hardcover, Rs799)  recounts the life the times of one of the country’s most flamboyant,  generous hoteliers with a vision different from other contemporary hoteliers, who hasn’t heard of the late Captain CP Krishnan Nair of the Leela Group of Hotels spread across the country,  wafting luxurious scents, bringing to live lifestyles once lived by royalty in royal palaces.

The book weaves many pertinent stories woven together into a garland of many hues. I would say the late hotelier Captain Krishnan Nair’s life and times are more educative than the life and times of many of the other big shots of the country or so to speak. This is partly because journalist and author Bachi Karkaria has put together a large canvas as a setting for the hotelier one may truly describe as the emperor of hoteliers with a humble touch!

If you are seeking to understand how empires of the good life are built and disposed of in a lifetime in our times – when the biggest scandal is that of our banks and their NPAs – you must read this admittedly coffee table quality biography of the late Captain C P Krishnan Nair, whose one passion was to showcase the old glory and treasures of an India during its maharaja hey days but now gone with the wind. One may only capture the royal past and past-times in the hotels of grandeur which Captain Nair built and that too while on a fleeting holiday. Much changed after he passed away in his ripe 90s very recently. Some say more iconic than Captain Nair was his wife Leela Nair who ushered in the good times of a man who would often described himself as a karma yogi, ironically.    

The biography of Captain Krishnan Nair makes for an exhausting if very insightful reading. Here is a man whose variegated life and times come together brilliantly courtesy one of the country’s most intuitive journalists. Bachi Karkaria scrupulously traces the rise and fall of a hospitality baron with charm enough to win the hearts of all those who granted him a host of favours economical and not so economical and he made the most of them. Why wouldn’t anyone in his place?

LEELA STORY

THE Leela story is yet another one of our rags to riches story but this one has to be very special. How a  Vaniyar boy from village Kunnavil near Kannur grew up imbibing local religious heroic legends and his Madhavi Amma’s  traditional breakfast: “last night’s rice mixed with fresh buttermilk diluted with the water in which the rice had been boiled, all of it spiked with the brine of pickled limes…” The precocious kid with dreams in his eyes went on to live the life of his dreams…until the end when things began to fall apart!

The boy Krishnan knew life was not fair and one had to smart up a lot, the precocious young “Krishnan was no stranger to discrimination. Kerala had always been shackled in caste hierarchies; its history bequeathed it a unique demography where the combined population of the two minority communities, Christians and Muslims, together equalled that of the majority Hindus. There were always clashes, opportunistic as well as ideological. The Vaniyas are an old Nair sub-caste in northern Malabar found mostly in Kannur district. They largely belonged to the Vaishya varna, but in Malabar, all castes other than the Brahmins or the royal Varmas were classified as Shudras, even if they were in traditional Kshatriya or Bania occupation…”

He was a lucky boy but perhaps one may say he made his luck. Funds for his primary and further education came courtesy a local raja who took a  shine to the little Krishnan, who soon grew up into a young inquisitive man, eager to break as many moulds as he could with his own learning, observation and gumption. For college education he was once again before his Chirakkal raja, who though fallen in dire straits gave him a diamond ring to cash in Madras for his college studies. Rs4,500 covered the entire college of  “Kochukrishnan” as was his pet name from those who had a soft corner for him!

Surely luck plays a role in all this or may one say Kochukrishnan made his own luck. Without looking back he dived into the national politics of the independence years, listening to Netaji’s speeches broadcast from Singapore via his show Azad Hind Radio – needless to say his mind and soul were stirred enough to set him off on a journey of discovering a much larger world out there, travelling in the Himalayas, learning some more at the feet of Swami Sivananda.

Later on in the army he was influenced by “Uncle VP’s power and personality” and he quit the army. “Uncle VP” was of course the VP Menon, the influential politician of the freedom movement years who entertained viceroys and nationalist leaders…marriage to the eminent AK Nair’s daughter Leela threw something as good as a lottery ticket his way and then came the stories of Leela Scottish Lace and bleeding Madras cotton which became a rage in the USA.

Financed his dream of building his own luxury hotel chain named after his wife Leela. Till Capt Nair came along no hotelier thought of naming a hotel chain after his wife! The Leela hotels were built to perfection and  a far cry from other luxury starred hotels – for Capt Nair believed in the flora of his native India and the gardens of his hotels reflected this enchantingly. They were not hotels but palaces of luxury where an erstwhile royal India was reflected all around for guests to relax and enjoy their holidays…he, wife Leela, two sons and their families soon rubbed shoulders with politicians, film stars, celebrities from all walks of life from around the world, photographs galore testify this.  Captain Krishnan Nair arrived to the super good life in which he entertained big and small with equal equanimity and enviable flair.  

It must be said though that his dreams of grandeur were built on bank loans upon bank loans, till a long, long time later they became “non-performing assets” and even as the charismatic, legendary hotelier passed on, it was time for his children to make good the debts piled up by their loving father. Here is a biography which tells one as much about a man who appreciated life king-size as about the times he lived in, some of the most interesting years of the country’s independence and post-independence years.

In later chapters we learn more about what inspired and drove him on to his charmed life which captured the hearts of many around the world – men and women who owed him. Read in between the lines and there is much to shock as well as get educated by for the human condition throw up so much fantasia for lesser mortals to take courage from if one may so! It’s been a long time since I have read a biography so gripping, so meticulously as well as honestly written without giving away some of the hard truths of a man’s life – woven so finely with emotions, feelings, dreams, visions and that certain je nais sais quo!

Captain Krishnan Nair was the hotelier with the Midas touch who brought “atithi devo bhave” come alive in his hotels, how human he was…the biography is as much about what went into making the man who he was as the many other things which made up the fabric of some of the most amazing times of history gone by in the Indian sub-continent.

“Capture the Dream” is more than just a flat biography, much, much more. Only Bachi Karkaria could have brought so many things together with such finesse and undoubtedly she got a lot of help too (check out Acknowledgements)! This is a biography meant for reading and remembering.

Excerpted from the `Capture the Dream: The Many Lives of Captain C.P. Krishnan Nair’ by Bachi Karkaria….

(Chapter 18)

18. A LEG-UP FOR HANDLOOM

Was it a comedown from ADC (and principal staff officer) to the chief of the Western Command to be tramping up and down Bombay carrying an armload of swatch catalogues and negotiating prices? Conventionally, yes. Quitting the army and returning to Kannur in 1952, Krishnan had joined his father-in-law’s business, Rajarajeshwari Weaving Mills, but as a sales agent getting a commission on the orders he bagged. Krishnan’s gusto in promoting handloom was woven into the skein of his DNA.

His guru Swami Sivananda, who had thwarted him from becoming a yogi, had instilled in him the essence of karma kanda: `Do your duty.’ Spinning and weaving  were the traditional occupations of the Saliyar/Saliya/Chaliyan community, an Other backward Class (OBC) community, like his own Vaniya – in fact, theoriginal name of the weaver community came from the word `spider’. The people who did this work had been using primitive looms, and Krishnan considered it his duty to take up Gandhiji’s idea of bringing this ancient skill up to speed and to wider markets.

And consider this. The Indian basics are roti, kapda aur makaan – food, clothes and a home. Arguable, thousands go without the first for a day or more, without the third for considerably longer. But clothing is literally the barest necessity; human dignity itself gets stripped without it.

When Krishnan had return to Kannur to take up Mission Handloom, he realized that the industry didn’t need attention only in his native region. In 1952, he sought a meeting with Captain V. Nanjappa, ICS, the textile commissioner of India, to discuss its problems and potential. Setting up a national handloom board wasn’t easy because the 1956 reorganization of the boundaries was still on the anvil. Once again, the still-influential Uncle VP was tapped. This resulted in their seeking an appointment with the prime minister.

Here is the inside information.

Their contact felt that Pandit Nehru wouldn’t take kindly to the idea because he wanted to `upgrade’ the handloom industry to power looms with their greater scope for production and employment. Krishnan’s plan was to make weavers switch from their primitive looms to frame looms, which at the time were brought only by the Basel Mission, and distributed to those who converted to Christianity.

Sure enough, Pandit Nehru turned down the first request for a meeting. So, Krishnan and representatives from Uttar Pradesh, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and West Bengal tried Home Minister Govind Ballabh Pant. He agreed to meet the delegation – at six in the morning. He warmed to the notion of scaling up the handloom sector, put a call through to Nehru, and got them an appointment for 4 p.m. the same afternoon.

Krishnan’s delegation not only softened the prime minister’s stand, but also convinced him to impose a 1 paisa cess on every yard of fabric emanating from the textile mill industry. This would add up to the then grand sum of Rs300 crore, which went into `modernizing’ the hand-operated looms. Decades later, in 1992, the All –India Handloom Board would emerge from that meeting, powered by the redoubtable Pupul Jayakar.

In 1957, Krishnan went on his first trip abroad – to what was still West Germany. He was part of an Indian trade delegation invited by its federal government. The commerce secretary, K.B. Lall, couldn’t lead it as planned, but in his place went the textile magnate Lala Bharat Ram of Delhi Cloth Mills. The visit, specifically Krishnan’s stay at Kempinski Hotels in major cities, would hold a key to a different future, but we will pen that door in its own time.

The delegation consulted with the Chambers of Commerce of Berlin, Bonn, Hamburg and Munich to understand how they handled their large ventures, and gauge what kind of a collaboration was possible. There would be a cherry on the torte. At the time, Indian handlooms exported to Germany were subject to ironclad quotas. Krishnan seized the opportunity to put a case to the federal minister for economics for an exemption. To everyone’s surprise, Herr Ludwig Erhard agreed.

Naturally, a surge of exports followed. Krishnan was again included in the next trade delegation to  Germany. More cherries. Riding on his rapport with the federal minister established during the last visit, Krishnan made another presentation, this time to remove the export duty on Indian handlooms. With consummate skill powered by passion and warmed by genuine feeling, he pointed out how this cottage-based industry provided a livelihood for the poorer sections of the population. How India was trying to prop up these threatened, ancient skills. How their craft had been smothered, first, during colonial rule, and then by competition from large mills. How could they compete when in the time a handloom produces 8 yards of material, a mill disgorges 1000?

Germans had taken to these fabrics in a big way, so argued Captain Nair, exemption from export duty as well would ensure food in the huts of the poor, increase employment and earn eternal gratitude — `good kaaar-ma’ as the West would learn to say. While expounding on this, the image of the indigent weavers  of Malabar and Madras flashed through his mind, and his eyes welled up. The Teutonic race is famously unemotional, but this seemed to have a profound impact on Herr Erhard. He said as much while acceding to the request.

Krishnan came home crowned with victory – and with a lesson tucked into his waistband. As he would record in his autobiography: `The hallmark of a good negotiator must be his evocative line of persuasion, winning the empathy of the other side.’

51

Friend, Guide, Wife

THE astrologer got it only half right. Asked to check if the stars approved of the match between a young army captain and the daughter of Kannur’s illustrious mill owner, he had foretold that she would bring great wealth to her husband. She did. But she also gave him much more. Companionship, strength, counsel – and he gave her name to all his ventures, form lace to deluxe hospitality. Arguably, these are the world’s only hotels named after a woman. Real, living, prosaic, not a creature of legend or poetry.

In Hidnu mythology, a woman’s merit becomes the good fortune of her husband. This unapologetically patriarchal view was also only half true with this couple.  While Mrs Nair was morally upright, her brownie points weren’t earned through fasting and prayer. They came from the 100 per cent secular qualities of a practical mind and an astute understand of opportunity. Yes, like Rider Haggard’s heroine, Leela was `She Who Must Be Obeyed,’ though in her case this wasn’t a command. The obedience emanated from the respect she had earned by virtue of being right, doing right.

Leela was seldom the woman behind Captain Nair’s success; she was often at its centre, sometimes even leading from the front. Without her push, he could never have left the army. Without her clear line of vision from airport to hotel, his last and grandest venture would never have taken off. Without her, those storied groves would have been a less vibrant shade of green. Finally, and perhaps most importantly of all, without her, the family would never have had the rooting that helped sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren branch and flower the way each did.

To everyone in the hotel she was `Madam Leela,’ as admired and deferred to as the`Hon’ble chairman’ because everyone knew she was, in Madhu’s words, `the wind beneath his wings.’ Samyaukta, more familiar with the time when her grandmother wasn’t such a public presence, called her the company’s  `secret legend. The world knows her through his life and her brand name.’

In the family, while the grandfather was referred to as `Acchcha’ in traditional Malayali fashion, the grandmother was `Ma.’ She saw all the girls as the daughters she had yearned for ever since she lost her own infant. That vacuum was filled by the wives and children of Vivek and Dinesh.

The couple were yin and yang, opposite in several  ways and yet true kindred spirits, living for each other, doing things for each other with unstinted devotion. This could be seen in the introvert Leela’s willingness to attend all international conferences because Captain Nair wanted her at his side. In Mumbai too, they would regularly go shopping – and even to dental appointments – together. All the way into town. Both were each other’s world. Aishwarya was touched by the way the chairman `ran so many of his business ideas past her, and she did the same about the home, even changes in the kitchen.’

Leela stopped travelling abroad in later years, but she continued to arrive at the Mumbai hotel at 5.30 pm for their daily tea date long after. Her busy, busy husband never missed it, and his eyes never stopped twinkling several watts more at every mention of her. If she was his closest friend, she was also, like a true one, his severest critic. No one ever saw him argue or ignore what she bluntly said. Simply because he never did.

How close he felt to her is illustrated by a story told by Dr A.S. Shetty. When the Captain was in his 80s, the Leela doctor got frantic calls at 9.30 am from Captain Nair’s secretary, Asha, saying, `Something is very wrong. Chairman’s speech is slurring.’ Dr Shetty was fortunately in the vicinity. He sped there, checked his vitals and said, `We need to take you to hospital.’ Captain Nair didn’t waste time asking questions, and simply said, `Let’s go.’ They were exiting from the hotel’s back gate when he asked to make a short halt at his adjacent bungalow.

As Dr Shetty recalled, `He must have thought, “this is it!” Still calm despite fearing the worst, captian’s uppermost desire was to bid goodbye to Madam Leela. He spent a few private moments with her, and then we rushed him to Hinduja, where everything had been prepared to attend to him. Happily, it was nothing serious and he was soon back to his normal bubbly self.’