Vijay Mohan Crishna was an early ally of Gateway House. Like many of the institution’s first supporters, Vijay’s commitment began in the aftermath of the 2008 terrorist attacks on Mumbai. He called to ask me: “What is the Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT)? They are behind these attacks.” As always, his information was early and correct. The LeT was in fact, responsible for the attacks.
During that period, Vijay was one of a handful of businessmen who came out and stood in front of the besieged Taj Mahal Hotel, sending a strong message to all: Mumbai was not afraid. That fearlessness was Vijay’s hallmark.
He was dedicated to his company and the Godrej family that owned it, managing with foresight and a clear view of India’s future. He was an explorer and trekker who walked across the Himalayas, and the glacial lakes, adoring the mighty rivers that originated from the mountains. China’s damming of the Yarlung Tsangpo pained him, as he watched its flow weaken over the years. It followed that Vijay was also a dedicated naturalist: he funded research on the mangroves that protect Mumbai. And he established the unique Naoroji Godrej Centre for Plant Research in the picturesque hill station of Khandala in 1991, to research and propagate rare medicinal plants in the Western Ghats. Every year, calendars made up of Vijay’s dazzling photos of the mountains and lakes, were sent to his friends.
Among his many naturalist experiments was a cycle made of bamboo, which was the welcome to the entrance of his office – a light, durable, successful product of nature called the Bambusa.
Vijay was a keen observer of world affairs. He knew that Indian business and the public needed to have a deeper understanding of the extant conditions. A year after the attacks in Mumbai, in July 2009, Gateway House was created, and Vijay was among the first members. He gave gladly of his time, attending pre-institution meetings wherever they took place: in club lobbies or at the homes of fellow thinkers, ready to contribute to the ideas that a think tank from Mumbai could put forth, and the research that it could do.
Once set up, Vijay was committed to Gateway House. He signed his whole family onto the membership roster, and it wasn’t unusual to see them together at meetings. His background was one of public service: his father was an Indian Air Force officer, his mother Amie was the personal secretary to former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, and his uncle was the legendary Gen. K.S. Thimayya. He was particularly at ease with the officers of the Indian Navy who were fellow members of Gateway House.
The warmest memory of Vijay Crishna was during the 2012 Gateway House members’ policy trip to Myanmar, where the many parts of Vijay coalesced: military child, naturalist, explorer, humanist, actor, poet, businessman. He told us his father had flown sorties over Burma; he recognised the qualities of the military men who filled the government positions at Naypydaw, the country’s new capital.
From Naypydaw, the group drove to Mandalay, the last stop of the trip. Vijay’s understanding of the moment, and his timing, were impeccable. Standing near the driver of the bus, he recited, with masterful delivery, the poem we all knew, but had never “felt” as well as we did on that black ribbon of road surrounded by the green fields of Burma: Rudyard Kipling’s Mandalay.
“By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea,
There’s a Burma girl a-settin’, and I know she thinks o’ me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
“Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!”
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can’t you ‘ear their paddles chunkin’ from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin’-fishes play,
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!
‘Er petticoat was yaller an’ ‘er little cap was green,
An’ ‘er name was Supi-yaw-lat — jes’ the same as Theebaw’s Queen,
An’ I seed her first a-smokin’ of a whackin’ white cheroot,
An’ a-wastin’ Christian kisses on an ‘eathen idol’s foot:
Bloomin’ idol made o’mud —
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd —
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed ‘er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
When the mist was on the rice-fields an’ the sun was droppin’ slow,
She’d git ‘er little banjo an’ she’d sing “~Kulla-lo-lo!~”
With ‘er arm upon my shoulder an’ ‘er cheek agin’ my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an’ the ~hathis~ pilin’ teak.
Elephints a-pilin’ teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence ‘ung that ‘eavy you was ‘arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
But that’s all shove be’ind me — long ago an’ fur away,
An’ there ain’t no ‘busses runnin’ from the Bank to Mandalay;
An’ I’m learnin’ ‘ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
“If you’ve ‘eard the East a-callin’, you won’t never ‘eed naught else.”
No! you won’t ‘eed nothin’ else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An’ the sunshine an’ the palm-trees an’ the tinkly temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay . . .
I am sick o’ wastin’ leather on these gritty pavin’-stones,
An’ the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho’ I walks with fifty ‘ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An’ they talks a lot o’ lovin’, but wot do they understand?
Beefy face an’ grubby ‘and —
Law! wot do they understand?
I’ve a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren’t no Ten Commandments an’ a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin’, an’ it’s there that I would be —
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin’-fishes play,
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!”
The holy bells have rung clear and resonant for you, Vijay. From your perch in the heavens, may you watch over your beloved earth, and may all that you have sown and touched, continue to blossom, a tribute to your well-lived life. Thank you for being our friend.
Manjeet Kripalani is the Executive Director, Gateway House.
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