“Please make sure I don’t have to go to Varanasi after the meal,” R Gopalakrishnan, executive director, Tata Sons and one of the shrewdest marketing brains in India, tells a startled Amitoz, the steward at Brix, the fine dining restaurant at The Grand.

Gopal as he prefers to be called is a strict vegetarian, and is visibly confused with the strictly European food list with its heavy accent on meat and fish. Amitoz earnestly assures his “honoured guest” that he could go to Varanasi at leisure, and not to repent because of a meal at Brix.

We are half an hour late for lunch because Gopal mistakenly thought our lunch venue was The Hyatt at Bhikaiji Cama Place, some seven kilometres away from the The Grand in Vasant Kunj. The confusion arose because the hotel used to be called The Grand Hyatt till recently but had to drop “Hyatt” after the agreement between Unison Hotels and Hyatt International lapsed in December.

We chose The Grand because Gopal had some urgent work at Vasant Kunj and said he would prefer to have a quick meal “somewhere nearby”. Before ordering a sweet lime juice and a TM salad (lots of tomatoes and no eggs for sure, Amitoz assures him) Gopal asks Amitoz what his name means. He’s interested in names, he says, explaining that his means cowherd and that mine means dark.

Amitoz explains that Amit means Amrit or nectar, and oz means glow. With the enthusiasm of a marketing man who has got his punch line, Gopal says: “That’s the glow of nectar. Would you please put some glow of nectar in our food and make it tasty.” The glow on Amitoz’s face just wouldn’t fade, I thought. For the main course, Gopal settles for a Tomato Tortellini, and I a Chicken Schnitzel.

I was curious to know how Gopal had made the transition from a professionally managed company to a family-owned one. Does he miss Hindustan Lever? “Well, it’s like missing your school or college. I worked there for 31 years and have wonderful memories. But one has to move on in life.”

He may not want to explain why he left Lever, but he loves to talk about why he chose to work for the Tatas. First, he said, like in Hindustan Lever, you will never be asked to do something that is remotely unethical. “It is rare and most valuable, in my view.”

Second, according to published data, the average life of a Fortune 500 company is 40 years. The Tatas have survived, and prospered, for more than 130 years. “There must be something unique in the group’s DNA that has helped them survive for so long,” he says, polishing off his salad.

Third, when he joined the Tatas, they were giving priority to telecom, software and cars - all sexy new areas. Besides, the group, he thought, was entering a phase of distributive leadership, and not the command-and-control type of leadership that they were always perceived to have.

He seems to be pleased with the starters that have banished all fears about an exculpatory visit to Varanasi. Our main course arrives, giving me an opportunity to steer the conversation back to Hindustan Lever. Gopal asks Amitoz to put some salt and pepper on his Tomato Tortellini, and says he can go on talking about those wonderful moments at Lever till dinner.

Like the time when a tense Gopal - then director (exports) - went straight to his chairman Ashok Ganguli after discovering that one of the juniors in his department was involved in a fraud involving over Rs 1 crore. Gopal was just 41 then, and had just been promoted and thought a fraud of this magnitude in his department could well mean a severe setback to his career.

“I laid all the facts before Dr Ganguli and expected sharp questioning about how the fraud took place. Dr Ganguli sensed I was nervous, offered me a cup of tea and then told me: ‘My dear friend, I will be worried only if you don’t take corrective action immediately’.”

Gopal feels such is the stuff leaders are made of. He got a warm handshake from his chairman when he went back to him with details of the corrective actions

A stint that he enjoyed hugely was the chairmanship of Unilever Arabia based in Jeddah. Working with employees of 16 nationalities was a great learning experience. “What’s the meaning of the name Jeddah?” I ask trying to test his earlier statement. He knows that too - it means “the bride of the seas”.

He recounts how he was advised by his Tunisian assistant never to walk on the road with a friend’s wife. How on earth would the policemen know whether he was walking with a friend’s wife or his own? His assistant gave a simple reply: “It’s very easy, Sir. If you are chatting, laughing and are generally seen to be very happy while talking to a lady, the policemen here are convinced that she can’t be your wife.” While in Jeddah, he always remembered the advice and maintained a stony silence whenever he went out with his wife.

Gopal says he is a fitness freak, chooses his food with great care and tennis and golf are his obsessions. Thirty years ago, he tipped the scales at 82 kg. Tennis brought it down to 72, and he hasn’t put on even an ounce of “extra gravitational force” since then. Apart from hard work which he says is good fun, his idea of relaxation is to enjoy life with his wife and three children. His son works for McKinsey and his two daughters are studying - one in the US, and the other in England.

Our meal is over and Amitoz asks the guest whether he has succeeded in putting the “glow of nectar” in the food. Gopal nods approvingly and orders an Expresso. I settle for a freshly brewed coffee.

Despite his hectic schedule, Gopal says he reads and writes a lot. He is currently writing his family history starting from his great grandfather and for that he is reading up a lot on history since he feels no one would read about his family unless it is put in a proper historical context. He has finished eight chapters already.

One of his favourite management punchlines is the “three Ss” - the “sticky, sweaty stuff” - and he thinks every CEO must spend at least a month in a year on the “three Ss”. Going out to meet customers means different things to different CEOs: a trucking centre for a truck maker, neighbourhood grocery stores for an FMCG player, farmer hangouts for an agro-inputs marketer. “The chairman of Hindustan Lever has done this ever since I can remember and I know that my colleagues, who are directors and business-unit heads at Tata Engineering, are doing this more and more,” he says.

That explains, I said, why Telco is now a vastly different organisation today. Surely, all this is his contribution to the Tata way of working? Gopal is vehemently shaking his head: “Nothing is my contribution. I am just a satisfied man playing his little part in the organisation.” I was reminded of a colleague’s advice that it’s very difficult to pin him down.

As we walk out of Brix, Gopal takes out what he calls his constant companion: a toothbrush. “As a rule, I always brush my teeth after meals,” he says. In Boston, a friend saw him frequently brushing his teeth and asked him why. Gopal had just left Hindustan Lever at the time and told his friend that it was quite natural because he had worked for a toothpaste company for a long time. To which his friend commented, “Thank God you didn’t work for a condom company, Gopal!”

Before he gets into his Honda City and waves goodbye, Amitoz comes rushing and asks him for his card. “Sir, one day when I have my own hotel, I will invite you for lunch with food full of the glow of nectar,” he gushes. Did anyone ask for a better proof of Gopal’s way with people?