BENGALURU: On the bustling Mysuru-Bengaluru Highway, a massive billboard loomed over travellers, featuring CJ Roy, chairman of Confident Group, who shot himself dead in Bengaluru on Friday. The tagline of the billboard was unmistakable: he lived life “King Size”.
To the world, Roy was the embodiment of the self-made Indian dream — a man who collected Rolls-Royces like others collect stamps and moved through the glitzy orbits of filmland and high society with effortless charisma. On Friday, that larger-than-life narrative met a silent, tragic end in a Langford Road office, leaving behind a story that is as much about the fragility of success as it is about the heights of ambition.
Before he was the billionaire chairman of the Confident Group, Roy was just a “front-bencher” at school. His childhood friends recall a boy who was barely five feet tall — long before he grew into the six-foot powerhouse the industry knew. “He was extremely tough mentally,” a school friend remembered, reflecting on the grit that saw Roy rise from his humble beginnings.
Roy didn’t inherit his empire; he built it. From his early days, learning the ropes under businessman-builder Paul Fernandes at Fern Valley in 1996 to his partnership with KK Namboodiri in 2000, Roy was a man in a hurry. Around 2005, he launched the Confident Group, turning it into a real estate juggernaut that spanned borders acquiring hundreds of acres of land.
Roy (57) didn’t just achieve wealth; he performed it. In an era where many billionaires hide behind gated estates, Roy invited the world in. His social media was a curated gallery of a fleet of top end cars. He recently celebrated the acquisition of his 12th Rolls-Royce. He was a fixture at movie launches, often seen rubbing shoulders with leading actors and industry icons in Dubai.
He leaned into the comparison with figures like Vijay Mallya, consciously cultivating an image of a man who enjoyed every penny he earned. To his admirers, he was aspirational — a sign that a “regular guy” could win big. To his critics, the display was excessive. But to Roy, it seemed to be a shield, a testament to the mental toughness his school friends had noted decades prior.
The contrast between Roy’s vibrant public persona and his final moments is jarring. While Tax sleuths searched his premises, the man who lived “King-Size” allegedly took his own life.
The tragedy has sent shockwaves through the business community, drawing grim comparisons to the 2019 death of Cafe Coffee Day founder VG Siddhartha. Political observers and associates are now raising a familiar, haunting question: When does the pursuit of accountability cross the line into unsustainable pressure? Roy’s family alleges that the “sustained pressure” of the interrogation drove him to the brink. While the police inquiry continues, the business world is left to mourn a man who seemed to have everything, yet felt he had no way out.
Roy’s story is a reminder that behind the viral videos of luxury cars and the “King Size” advertisements, there is a human being navigating the immense weight of an empire. He leaves behind a legacy of towering buildings and high-octane glamour, but also a sobering perspective on the high cost of the spotlight. The man who once sat on the front bench, eager to take on the world, has left it far too soon.