The-Polyester-Prince

eing ‘suite luxurious’ compared to the single rooms many Gujarati families had tooccupy in Bombay at that time.Even so, Dhirubhai and his young family, eventually two boys and two girls, livedausterely in surroundings that were crowded, noisy and dirty. The two sons, Mukeshand Anil, who took over day-to-day management of Reliance in the late 1980s, mayhave had engineering degrees and MBAs from American universities, but their leanearly years gave them a hungry ambition unusual in the second generation of asuccessful Indian business family.As his confidence grew in his Bombay success, Dhirubhai developed his taste for‘letting loose a scorpion’s through practical jokes and whimsy. Vakharia recalls thatwhen he visited Bombay with his new wife for the first time in 1959, he andDhirubhai were invited home by their senior mentor Mathura Das Mehta. Mehta’swife served the young men mango juice, and kept insisting on refilling their glasses.Dhirubhai whispered:“Let’s do some mischief,” Vakharia said. The two asked for a fourth glass, and keptthen accepting more. After more than a dozen glasses each, the Mehta kitchen ranout of mangoes and a servant had to be sent to the market to buy more, which wereall duly consumed. The Mehtas continued to be friends, ‘But they never invited usback for any lunch or dinner at their house’, Vakharia said.Each year, Dhirubhai would make it a point to play an April Fool’s joke upon anelderly employee named Ghulabchand, an old associate from Aden. For all hisexperience, Ghulabchand never failed to fall for it. On one occasion, Dhirubhaiannounced that everyone was invited to dinner across town at an address at MafatlalBath. Ghulabe hand was sent in a taxi with Vakharia and another member of theoffice, Ramanbhal. At Marine Drive they stopped outside a building, and Patel went into look for a fourth member of the group. After 15 minutes waiting, Vakharia alsowent in. Ghulabchand eventually gave them all up and took the taxi to Mafatlal Bath,where he found no one. On returning home, he found Dhirubhai and the otherseating a dinner they had notified Ghulabchand’s wife to prepare.Vakharia recalls another prank in 1965. The India-Pakistan War was on, and ablackout had been imposed on Bombay for fear of naval and air attacks by Pakistan.About 10 pm, Dhirubhai said: “Let’s go out and take a round of the city.” The twodrove around the dark Bombay, with Dhirubhai bluffing police at roadblocks that hewas on official business and handing out small tips of ten rupees or so. ‘He gotsaluted all the way,’ said Vakharia. ‘In the way back we saw some lights in theJapanese consulate, so Dhirubhai went in and told them to close the lights.’ On yetanother occasion, around 11 pm on a cold winter night, Dhirubhai announced animmediate picnic. The cook was told to assemble supplies, and Vakharia and thefamily piled into car. Another dozen friends were telephoned and told to rendezvousin their cars. ‘We were not told where we were going,’ Vakharia said. ‘We ended upat Rajeswari, about 50 or 60 kilometers from Bombay at about 3 am. The cold wasvery severe and we went to a dharamsala [pilgrim’s lodging] at a hot springs resort.It was meant only for sadhus [ascetic Hindu holy men]. Dhirubhai said we would allsleep there. After half an hour we were still shivering and Dhirubhai got up and lit acamp fire. When the sun came up we had tea, and a bath in the hot springs, andcooked kedgeree on the camp fire. We told jokes and sang songs, and didn’t getback home until late in the afternoon.’ Fast pace caused a rift with his partnerChambaklal Damani in 1965. According to Vakharia, Damani preferred to trade with