Ratan Tata: A Life of Grace, Vision, Humility and Humanity.

It is difficult to write a eulogy for a man as intensely private as Ratan Tata. Yet, when he passed away two days ago, an entire nation mourned. He was eighty-six, had been unwell for several years, so his death wasn’t entirely unexpected. What was surprising, however, was the outpouring of grief and love for the man. He wasn’t a politician, a sportsman, a religious guru, or an entertainer. He was a capitalistic entrepreneur, the leader of a business empire worth billions of dollars, spread across the globe. Ratan’s net worth was estimated at over three billion dollars. He was a very wealthy man. By all accounts, I should feel jealous of such a person, and yet, I don’t. There are many billionaires in the world whose presence or absence wouldn’t affect me in the least. But there was something different about Ratan—a tangible humanness that transcended the businessman he was. It was not feigned but deeply personal and sincere, making it feel as if someone I knew closely had passed away.

Sitting in America, two oceans away, I experienced a strange kind of grief, as if someone close to me was no more. When I read the news of his death early in the morning, it wasn’t his wealth or sprawling business interests that came to mind. Instead, what surfaced was his aquiline, finely chiseled face, those bushy eyebrows, eyes gleaming with intensity and discipline, and the shyness in his smile. I thought of his measured conversations and the stories of a man whose Spartan lifestyle stood in stark contrast to the ostentatious display of wealth that his position afforded him. I remembered the elegant suits he wore and, most importantly, his big heart that poured millions into community projects, hospitals, and world-class educational institutions. That is the Ratan Tata I grieve for—a quintessential Indian who loved his country and its people; a passionate Mumbaikar who adorned the city like a jewel in its crown; a simple human being who touched the lives of those he met, in business and otherwise.

There was never a time in my life when I didn’t know the word Tata. I saw it imprinted in bold letters on lorries, buses, cars, and hoardings. As a child, I understood the word to mean “goodbye.” Even today, in India, we bid someone close to us “Tata.” It was only later that I understood that Tata was not just a word but a business house with interests in everything under the sun. History books taught me about Jamshedji Tata and how he audaciously demanded permission from the British to start a steel industry. The British mocked his proposal but allowed him to proceed nonetheless. Then there was JRD Tata, that iconic scion, the aviator who pioneered the Indian aviation industry and a gentleman of the finest kind.

The first time I saw Ratan Tata live was in 1997 on Simi Garewal’s show Rendezvous with Simi Garewal. Television was new then, and Simi’s elegance and interview style transformed the nature of such shows. Ratan was her first guest, and I was struck by his candid, unpretentious responses. I didn’t know then that Simi and Ratan had known each other as young adults or that they had even dated for a while. The chemistry between them was visible. Ratan’s reticent responses about his journey within Tata, starting from the lowest rung of the ladder, and his reflections on love, marriage, and family were refreshingly honest. What struck me most was his impeccable language skills and the clarity of his thought. More than anything, I admired his conversational style—elegant yet simple.

Ratan did not seek the media’s attention much. He preferred to do his work outside the limelight. By his own admission, he did not expect to take over from JRD Tata. In fact, it was only in the last years of JRD’s life that the two bonded well. But when JRD called Ratan in for a chat after surviving a serious illness, Ratan had no inkling that JRD intended to pass the baton to him. Perhaps JRD saw in Ratan the qualities necessary to lead the Tata empire: a man who bore the Tata name but also had a talent for business and a deep understanding of people. JRD was spot on. From 1992 to 2011, Ratan steered the Tata group with vision, growing it exponentially, trimming its organizational structure, divesting businesses that no longer aligned with the group’s goals, and boldly experimenting with ideas whose benefits would reach the people of India.

Two initiatives stand out: Tanishq jewelery and the Nano car. Not many know that Tanishq was initially a financial failure. The company was selling 18-carat gold at a lower price than the traditional 22 or 24-carat standard, failing to realize that, for Indians, gold is sacred, and purity is paramount. Ratan’s solution? He introduced carat meters in Tanishq showrooms, encouraging customers to bring in their gold to weigh and check its purity. When people realized that what they assumed was pure gold wasn’t and that the traditional jewelers they trusted were selling them substandard quality, Tanishq offered to match the gold’s quality at no additional cost, charging only for the craftsmanship. Overnight, public perception shifted, and today, buying jewelry from Tanishq is not only seen as a status symbol but also as a smart investment.

With the Nano, Ratan wanted to revolutionize the automobile industry for the middle class. The idea of a car priced under $2,000 was unheard of. But the project ran into bureaucratic hurdles, and when the car finally launched, there wasn’t as much public enthusiasm. In India, owning a car is a status symbol, and not many wanted to buy a “cheap” car. In developing countries, certain utilities like air conditioners are still symbols of status. Offering such items at lower prices often leads to skepticism. Perhaps Ratan’s vision with the Nano was too ambitious for its time, but the intent—to make a car accessible to the common man—was appreciated. While Indians didn’t rush to buy the car, they loved the man behind it even more.

Over the last two days, I’ve been watching interviews with those who knew Ratan well. A common theme that emerged was his commitment to keeping his promises. Ratan was a man of his word, a rare quality in today’s world. He not only fulfilled his promises but ensured that he promised only what he could deliver. Both aspects are equally important. Another quality often mentioned was his humility. People recalled how he would stop to greet and talk to everyone he met, regardless of their social or professional standing, giving them his full attention. In a world where distraction is just a click away, this ability to be completely present is a rare and admirable gift. We are often too preoccupied to listen to others truly. Philosopher J. Krishnamurti emphasized the importance of listening—the ability to be entirely in the moment. Ratan embodied this quality. He was always present for the other person, and this genuine attentiveness touched those around him.

Not many know that Ratan Tata was adopted by Naval Tata, who himself had been adopted into the Tata family. Ratan, born to Sooni and Naval Tata, was raised by his grandmother after his parents separated. In a sense, Ratan always felt somewhat abandoned, and he considered his life a confluence of chance and upbringing. This understanding gave him a humility that prevented success, fame, or wealth from ever overshadowing his core values. He recognized the responsibility of carrying the Tata name, and this gave his life a sense of direction, discipline, and purpose. It shaped him into not just a great businessman but an exceptional human being.

The Zoroastrian religion, to which Ratan belonged, teaches three fundamental tenets that every Parsi is expected to live by: humata, hukhata, and havarashta—Avestan words from the Zend Avesta, their holy text. These words are often translated as “good thoughts, good words, and good deeds,” but the meaning runs deeper:

• Humata: The intention to follow the right order of things (in Zoroastrianism, this order is called Asha, similar to the concept of Dharma in Hinduism).
• Hukhata: The communication of that intention.
• Havarashta: The realization of that intention in action.

Ratan Tata’s life exemplified these ideals. What Einstein once wrote of Gandhi seems equally fitting for Ratan: “Generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth.” In today’s business world, dominated by startup culture, a focus on market capitalization, and an obsession with quick wealth, often at the cost of societal well-being, Ratan Tata stands out as a guiding star. It may be difficult to become like him, but role models like Ratan exist to inspire us, to elevate our aspirations, and to keep us grounded.

We collectively grieve the void that legend has left behind and, in the same breath, honor and remember him for who he was, what he did, and what he stood for.