Son of a poor laundryman is a shining beacon for those in dire straits

Somma Banerjjee   |   Mumbai

13-August-2016

Vol 7 | Issue 33

The fascinating rise of Bikash Chowdhury from humble beginnings to corporate heights is the stuff that Bollywood potboilers are made of.  I meet Bikash, Associate Vice President of Treasury at JSW Steel, Mumbai, at his spacious and tastefully decorated apartment in a posh south Mumbai high-rise.

A Volkswagen Vento and a Renault Duster are parked in the garage.  An 11-year-old beagle called Cindy patters in and out of the living room, where the tables are stacked with plush coffee table books about flora and fauna, his abiding interest. 

Bikash Chowdhury at his Mumbai apartment (Photos: Rohan Potdar)

“I do not believe in charting a career path or setting a goal as such, but I try to progress as much as I can,” says the 40-year-old, who has come up the hard way.

Travel back a few years with him, to his childhood days, and a beautiful story emerges, a narrative that can give hope to someone living in dire straits, to even one who is mired in poverty.  

Son of a laundryman, Bikash grew up in a small 10 x 15 feet room in Kolkata with eight other family members including his two sisters and his uncle’s family.

His family had moved from the Aara district of Bihar three generations back and settled down in the Bhowanipur area of south Kolkata. Times were hard, and sometimes he saw his parents, uncle and aunt going to bed hungry after the children had eaten.

After graduating from IIM Kolkata, Bikash embarked on a lucrative corporate career

“My background did not bother me much,” says Bikash. “I learnt from my father how to enjoy life and yet remain detached and without expectations.”

In those days without washing machines, Bikash’s father would go from house to house in the nearby upper-middle-class locality to collect clothes for washing and ironing. One of those residences belonged to Arun Lal, ace cricketer of the 80s, and his wife Debjani.

At his mother’s request, Julien Day school across from their home admitted Bikash and let him study for free,and then for a subsidised fee from fifth grade onwards.

He was the first person in his family to study in an English-medium school.  But he needed help with the language and his father requested Debjani to teach Bikash. The boy was 12 then, and it marked a turning point.

Until then Bikash had never taken studies seriously. “Finishing homework and getting decent marks in exams was all I cared about it,” he recollects.

“Right from my early childhood I was fond of sports and especially football. After school I would be at a nearby park till late evening. Due to lack of space at home, my mother also perhaps did not mind my spending time playing there.”

A footballer during his younger days, he played for Young Bengal, a first division football club in Kolkata, from 1989 to 1991

He was good enough to be selected to play as a midfielder in Young Bengal – a first division football club – from 1989 to 1991.

“I used to earn around 10,000 rupees yearly from this football club and also got food at the club canteen,” he says. The travel allowance for going to practice, the T-shirts and towels at local tournaments, all of it proved helpful for him at that time.

Bikash also played in the sub junior division of East Bengal Club and the park and his football friends made up his “second home.”

It was at first the glass of orange squash offered by Debjani every day that was the only incentive for Bikash to attend the study session with her. By the time Bikash was in class VIII, Arun Lal and his wife took on full responsibility for his education, including the fees.

The Lals did not have children, and their relationship with Bikash grew deeper and gradually they became his ‘second set of parents’, as Bikash calls them.

Through his schooling, including the last two years at the Assembly of God Church School, he stayed with them off and on. 

It was Arun Lal who advised Bikash to take academics seriously as a more reliable means to a sustainable career. Though obsessive about football, Bikash took Lal’s advice.

Bikash playing with his three-year-old daughter Arunima, who is named after Arun Lal

To focus on his studies, he stayed with the Lals through his college, graduating in commerce from St. Xavier’s College in Kolkata, following it up with one year of Masters in commerce at Calcutta University.

Through college he looked after his personal expenses by tutoring and doing odd jobs. While he was doing his Masters, the Lals coaxed him into preparing for the CAT examination.

He aced it, setting another milestone. His score could have got him into a higher ranked IIM, but he preferred IIM Kolkata, close to his two families.

After that there was no stopping him. He held top-level executive positions in companies such as Deutsche Bank (DB) and Credit Agricole, including a stint in London for DB, followed by HDFC and the Singaporean multinational DBS Bank before joining JSW Steel a year back.

Extraordinarily, Bikash defies all stereotypes of the high-profile corporate.

He still plays football with his old friends whenever he finds time, though he is “not a fan of any international football League clubs, because it creates expectations and the possibility of disappointments when your favourite loses the match.” 

Posing for the camera: Cindy with Bikash

Bikash, now married to Kamna, who is a consulting marketing head at the Platinum Guild, is still in touch with those friends who would earlier take him to movies or treats with their own meagre resources.

As a token of his love and gratitude, Bikash has gifted a Mercedes Benz to Arun Lal and Debjani whom he calls Piggy and Mom. But more than that as a lifelong tribute he named his now three-year-old daughter Arunima after Arun Lal.

He also helped them to buy a bungalow and bought his own father a flat too.

Bikash likes to share and to give, but without making any noise. “I try to help whoever needs it or asks me, as much as is possible within my means,” he says. “I would rather not speak about it.”

This is definitely a script where actions speak far louder than words. In every way.