'When Ratan Tata set his mind to it, nothing was impossible'

The year is 1998. The Tata Group has invited agencies to pitch for the new Tata brand identity. We are in the formidable boardroom at Bombay House. The entire board is in attendance. As part of our pitch, we conducted a perception audit of the Tata brand. When I shared the finding that the Tata Group was perceived as an 80-year-old Parsi, I could sense the 'not amused' vibe in the room—until I gathered the courage to look at Mr. Tata. He had the most angelic smile on his face, which seemed to approve of the somewhat naive honesty of a not-even-30-year-old me. The new identity marked the beginning of a journey that saw the Tata Group market cap move from a mere $8bn to more than $400bn today.

Mr. Tata, in those days, was extremely media-shy and wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But, as fate would have it, he didn’t have an option. I remember conducting meetings with him using hidden cameras. We used to share the edited footage with his office to help him get comfortable in front of the camera. Looking back, I don’t think we needed to do that because once he made up his mind, nothing was impossible. He subsequently developed a strong friendship with the camera.

I vividly remember my introduction to him as the new President of Rediffusion-DY&R. I had already worked closely with him at Ogilvy, but decorum demanded a formal introduction. My chairman, dressed in a formal three-piece navy blue suit (pocket square to boot), was shocked to see my attire: a pair of jeans, boots, an untucked embroidered semi-formal shirt, and a linen jacket. As I look back, certainly not appropriate for the meeting. I could sense the outstanding restraint he exercised as we waited for the great man. Mr. Tata walked in and greeted us warmly. He then looked at me and said, "You remind me of my friend Gianni Agnelli (former chairman of Fiat Group); I like your style." Not only did that gesture dissipate the thick air, but it also marked the beginning of another chapter in my life, which culminated in the Tata Nano.

I remember going to the Nano briefing with the team. He spoke about his favorite baby with almost childlike enthusiasm. He wanted the Nano to become a youth icon. It had been years in the making, and the world’s eyes were on an Indian car for once. I recall receiving calls from the media offering various incentives to leak a picture, and the constant glare of cameras at Pragati Maidan as we rolled the cars in under full shrouds was a memorable experience. January 9th, 2008, was a long day as we frantically worked towards the reveal of the Nano the next day. We were at the hotel having a drink when I got a call from a colleague at midnight: "Mr. Tata is coming for a rehearsal. Can you make it back?" I sure did. We wrapped up after the rehearsal and review at 2 a.m. Mr. Tata was back at 6 a.m. for a final rehearsal. Imagine doing all this at 70 years of age. That was his passion for the Nano, a baby close to his heart.

Later that year, I was at the JFK airport in New York. The customs officer looked up from my visa and sized me up. As he became occupied with the formalities, he inquired about my occupation. I told him I worked in advertising. His next question: "Do you know the Tata Nano?" I told him that I launched it. He looked up again, got up from his chair, stamped my visa, shook my hand, and said, "Sir! Welcome to the United States of America."

Farewell, Mr. Ratan Naval Tata. Welcome to eternity.

(Our guest author, Mahesh Chauhan is the founder of Salt Brand Solutions, a Mumbai-based agency that offers brand solutions. He has previously worked at Rediffusion-Y&R)