Saloni Meghani

Amit Chatterjee's love affair with steel began when he was growing up in Jamshedpur. More than three decades of working with Tata Steel has only added to the allure

Metallurgy means, in Amit Chatterjee's dictionary, the art for extracting the most meaning from life. The raw materials this advisor to Tata Steel's managing director B. Muthuraman uses are intellectual prowess, strength of purpose, and that critical element called passion.

The standout alloy emerging from this process has left people and institutions mighty impressed. One such is the prestigious Imperial College, London, which recently conferred a fellowship on Dr Chatterjee. This is just one honour in a long list. In 1996, the Banaras Hindu University, where Dr Chatterjee did his graduation, chose him as distinguished alumnus of its department of metallurgy. A year later, the Loyola School, Jamshedpur, where Dr Chatterjee spent his formative years, honoured him during its centenary celebration.

About the only academic institution that he attended that has not thought him worthy of high recognition is the co-ed nursery of what is now the girls-only Sacred Heart Convent School in Jamshedpur, but then Dr Chatterjee was a toddler there. In the time since, he has received acclaim and admiration from all quarters for the professional and personal qualities he brought to bear on an outstanding 32-year career with Tata Steel.

It was at Tata Steel, from where he retired as chief technology officer, that Dr Chatterjee worked on a coal-based direct reduction technology and oxygen steel making. This innovation not only earned him a doctor of science degree from London University, but also led to the setting up of the first sponge iron plant in India (the country has now become the worldwide hub for sponge iron).

Dr Chatterjee has spent a lifetime in the business of iron and steel. He was inspired by the image of his father — also a metallurgist, employed with the National Metallurgical Laboratory — in the laboratory or writing research papers. As a child Dr Chatterjee was mesmerised by the pink and orange halo around Tata Steel's Jamshedpur plant. He remembers being awed by the statue of Tata Group founder Jamsetji Tata at the gates of the plant. "It would have been an anomaly if I had not taken up iron and steel making for a profession," he says. "Imagine a Jamshedpur boy being fascinated with copper!"

Given his fervour, it would have been a surprise if Dr Chatterjee did anything short of mastering the subject that fascinated him. He kept his zeal intact — in the arid climes of Banaras and the numbing winters of London — while acquiring the educational credentials that would help him become a master in his vocation. "I went to Banaras Hindu University in the 1960s after living a comfortable and sheltered life in Jamshedpur," Dr Chatterjee recalls. "Living without a fan in the hostel room and sleeping on a charpoy was, to say the least, a shock to the system." That did not prevent him from growing to love the city.

The move to the Imperial College, London, at 21 was no cakewalk either. "I felt the shortage of money for the first time. I had a grant, but it was meagre. Even if my father wanted to send me some, he could do so only after taking permission from the Reserve Bank of India [India's foreign exchange regulations then were draconian]. I lived in a small room and it was cold. The heater would run for only as long as I had money in loose change to put into it."

But Dr Chatterjee had the mettle not to get overwhelmed by minor hiccups. For instance, when he met his PhD guide, Tony Bradshaw, he realised what a long way he had to go. "It was awe-inspiring to meet this expert in process metallurgy," says Dr Chatterjee. "He was 6 feet 4 inches tall, wore size 10 shoes and was about 55 years old. He told me that the subject I was opting for was not easy and went on to explain what he expected from me. I did not understand head or tail of what he said."

Dr Chatterjee may have been overwhelmed, but throwing in the towel was not an option. "I considered these factors: my parents had paid money to get me here; I had a grant; my former classmates already had jobs. I had to stay." The first thing he did was admit he did not know enough. Then he worked so hard that by the end of the first year his guide had asked him to stand in for him at a lecture.

Another three months down the line, Dr Chatterjee appeared for an assessment for his PhD registration, and he qualified. He was, in fact, told that he had already finished most of the work he was required to do. "Bradshaw asked me to take it easy and see more of England." What made this further possible was that Dr Chatterjee's stipend was increased from £500 to £800.

When Dr Chatterjee finished his thesis, Bradshaw asked him to continue at the college and teach. "But I was always clear that I wanted to work in industry," he says. Dr Chatterjee worked with Thyssen in Germany for two years before coming back to Jamshedpur to join Tata Steel, where he has been since. "At Tata Steel you can get the flavour of everything and find the bits you enjoy most. It is a place where challenges are there for the asking," he explains.

Dr Chatterjee believes that times are exciting not only for Tata Steel, which aims to become a 15-million tonnes a year company soon, but also for the entire steel industry in the country. For economies in the west, says Dr Chatterjee, the steel business is no longer competitive. For countries such as India, on the other hand, "the big boom is about to come". But Dr Chatterjee does not state this as the only reason to draw people to the science of steel making. He believes it would be impossible to imagine life without the metal.

"There is no facet of your life in which you can ignore steel," he says. "When you are an infant your diaper is secured with a safety pin. After you die your body is cremated in an electric crematorium, which is made of steel. The cupboards in which you store your belongings and the bank vaults where you save your earnings are made of steel. The train you travel in has compartments made of steel. The cycle, the bus, the car, all have steel in them. If you choose to walk instead, you should remember that the road is made with a road-roller that has plenty of steel in it."

The rest of us may need to be reminded of the many ways in which steel touches our lives, but the metal is on Dr Chatterjee's mind even when it is not in his vicinity.

Uploaded on April 27, 2005