In 1989, following the completion of my academic degree, I relocated to Bombay (now Mumbai) in search of employment. At that time, my father was employed with TELCO (Tata Engineering and Locomotive Company), a constituent of the Tata Group. Owing to his association with the organization, I was offered a six-month temporary position as a filing clerk.
During the same period, one of my classmates also arrived in Bombay. His father, Peter, served as the personal chauffeur to Mr. J. R. D. Tata, the Chairman of the Tata Group of Companies, and drove Mr. Tata’s iconic Mercedes-Benz (registration number MH-01-1000).
As I was new to the city, I would often meet my classmate Clarence each evening after work. Clarence was Peter’s son. Together, we would frequently gather near the Taj Mahal Hotel, as Mr. J. R. D. Tata arrived there punctually every evening at 5:00 p.m. from Bombay House, the Tata Group headquarters. Many others would also assemble at this location, hoping to catch a glimpse of the eminent industrialist, whose presence commanded both respect and admiration.
Motivated by curiosity and deep respect, I expressed to my friend my desire to meet Mr. Tata and shake his hand. Clarence conveyed this request to his father, and after several months, Peter informed us that Mr. Tata had agreed. We were instructed to stand near the rear entrance of the Taj Mahal Hotel, which Mr. Tata used daily.
On the appointed day, precisely at 5:00 p.m., the yellow Mercedes-Benz arrived. We approached the entrance, where a security guard—a tall Sikh gentleman with a prominent moustache—was stationed. Peter signaled to him, indicating that we were accompanying him, and we were allowed to proceed without obstruction.
At the entrance, Mr. Tata climbed a short flight of three steps, holding the railing firmly. Despite his advanced age, he ascended independently. Although attendants were present and offered assistance, he politely declined, demonstrating remarkable self-reliance and dignity.
Inside the lobby of the Taj Mahal Hotel, Peter spoke briefly to Mr. Tata, who then paused and turned toward us. Despite his demanding schedule—where every moment was undoubtedly of immense value—he chose to stop and acknowledge us. I greeted him respectfully, and he extended his hand for a handshake. As I was carrying a camera, I requested a photograph with him. His response left a lasting impression.
“Why me?” he said. “I am an ordinary man. Go to a film star; you will remember that always.”
Nevertheless, he graciously agreed to the photograph and waited patiently while it was taken.
May his soul rest in peace.
On another occasion, during the afternoon hours, we decided to visit the Hanging Gardens (formally known as the Ferozeshah Mehta Gardens) situated on Malabar Hill. At that time, Clarence—the son of Peter, Mr. J. R. D. Tata’s personal driver—did not have any money with him, as his father was scheduled to arrive at the Taj Mahal Hotel around lunchtime with Mr. Tata. Consequently, we waited nearby.
When the car arrived, Clarence approached his father to obtain some money and informed him of our plan to visit the Hanging Gardens on Malabar Hill. After receiving the money, he returned to me, as I was standing at a short distance from the vehicle.
It is possible that Mr. J. R. D. Tata observed us or inquired of Peter about our presence. We remained standing by the roadside, waiting for Mr. Tata’s car to depart. Shortly thereafter, the car started, moved forward briefly, and then stopped directly in front of us. Mr. Tata lowered the window and simply said, “Get in.” This moment was not merely surprising but profoundly astonishing to me, as I had never imagined—even in my dreams—that such a distinguished individual would offer us a lift.
It is likely that after Clarence spoke to his father, Mr. Tata asked about our destination. Upon learning that we were heading to the Hanging Gardens, and given the coincidence that his own residence was located on Malabar Hill, Mr. Tata graciously decided to drop us there on his way home.
Mr. Tata’s car bore the registration number MH-01-1000, which was entitled to special privileges, including uninterrupted passage through traffic signals. Nevertheless, he strictly adhered to traffic regulations, stopping at every signal. As the car passed, traffic police personnel stood in salute. This journey remains one of the most memorable experiences of my life—a car ride that left an enduring impression and which I shall never forget.
Do you still have that photo with JRD ?
yes