CP Jain parks his black Hyundai Sonata on MG Road, Kochi’s main thoroughfare on a quiet day. A hartal has been called to protest the recent hike in petrol prices. “I was worried somebody might throw stones,” says Jain, as he steps out of the vehicle, and gives a relieved smile.
Jain is a trim man, with silver-black hair and gold spectacles. Wearing white Puma shoes, he bounds up the stairs to his second floor office. He has a large trading business dealing in all types of paper. And this is his 29th year in Kochi.
When he was young, Jain practised in the Rajasthan High Court. His father, who had a diamond business, asked him to join the family firm. Jain was not very keen: “I wanted to do something of my own.” He then set out for Bangalore, where a schoolmate was doing business. From there he went to Kerala. But he drew a blank on what business to do.
However, while returning to Jaipur on the Kerala Express, he met the general manager of Nagpur-based Empress Paper Mills, which was owned by the Tatas. “Paper is a growing business in Kerala,” said the man. “You could supply Kraft paper for the corrugated industry.” An excited Jain went to Mumbai, met a senior Tata executive, who appointed him as an agent.
In February 1982, Jain went to Kochi, much against the wishes of his family. His father said, “You don’t know anybody there. Do you think you will be able to establish a business?” He also refused any financial help. But Jain felt inwardly confident. “I had saved about Rs 1 lakh,” he says. And his mother turned out to be silent supporter. She gave him Rs 50,000.
Right from the beginning, Jain tasted success. “I was able to sell 100 tonnes of paper every month from the early days.” Today, Jain is a wealthy man.
At S S Agarwal’s bungalow, in posh Panampilly Nagar, he is walking about on bare feet. The floor is made of spotless white marble. In the living room, there is a Ravi Varma painting, while on a mantelpiece, there is a silver idol of Radha and Krishna, apart from family photos. Muted lighting and heavy wooden furniture convey the impression of tranquility and achievement.
His elegant wife, Durga, with diamond studs in her ears, serves tea and samosas, along with jalebis. “I love Kochi for its greenery, the cleanliness, and for the peace,” says Durga, who grow up in noisy Kolkata. “We have assimilated easily into the liberal Kerala culture and have many Malayali friends. They are kind and friendly.” As she talks, her husband’s BlackBerry buzzes incessantly. And Agarwal has the look of a happy man.
He came to Kochi in 1987. “I grew up in Salem, a dry place,” he says. “So Kerala was like a heaven for me.” Despite many warnings, he set up a flour mill in Kochi, went through labour problems, which almost closed down his unit, but managed to survive and prosper. Later, he built a steel factory and is now a prosperous businessman.
Incidentally, there are 2,500 Marwaris in Kochi. “Around 90 per cent of the breadwinners are into various trading businesses,” says N L Mittal, secretary, Jan Kalyan Society, which comprises Marwaris. Describing the reasons behind their success, Mittal says, “A Marwari never fears anything in business. We are a very mobile community. We can move into the deepest jungle, if we have to, if there is any scope of economic gain. Basically, we are risk-takers. We have a saying: ‘Jahan na jaye belgadi, wahan jaye Marwari’ (where a bullock-cart cannot go, a Marwari will go).”
He says that the community members ensure that they win over the local population. “This is because we are far away from our home state of Rajasthan,” he says. “We have to be careful, and cannot afford to make enemies.”
Asked whether he would encourage a Marwari youngster from outside to do business in Kochi, businessman D N Singhal, says, “I will. The profit margins are better, compared to other cities because the competition is less.”
Meanwhile, the impact on the second generation seems to be minimal. Sitting in his air-conditioned stock-broking firm in Kochi, Akshay Agarwal speaks softly into his mobile phone. It is a little incongruous that this tall North Indian, with wavy black hair, is talking in fluent Malayalam.
Akshay came to Kochi when his father became the head of a transport company. “I was only one year old,” he says. “I feel completely rooted in Kochi.” So, at home he eats north as well as south Indian food. “In fact, my breakfast is either idli or masala dosa,” he says.
Unusually, Akshay feels out of place when he travels to North India. “It takes some time to get used to the aggressiveness of the people there,” he says. “But I admire their ‘can-do’ attitude. There is a lot of energy and vitality in cities like Delhi and Mumbai. And there are a lot more opportunities. In contrast, people in the south are laidback.”
But in the end, it is a trade-off. “I have a much higher standard of living in Kochi, than if I were in Delhi,” he says. “So I am happy to be here. Also, Kochi is changing. There is a flourishing business climate now.”