Simply Fly

by Capt G R Gopinath

  We went from bank to bank. On these visits we, Sam and I, Gen. Narahari, and our CFO Mohan Kumar, dressed formally. This was something I had not done since I left the army. The managers said they would get back to us. It was very much like my experience with banks as a farmer when I went seeking a project loan. The only difference this time was that the banks got back to us after a month or so to say that the proposal did not appear to them to be viable and therefore they were unable to fund the project.

  Helicopter leasing companies too, were also not interested in India, viewing it as a remote and risky country. They were wary of not being able to recover costs if their helicopter encountered problems here because Indian courts took a sympathetic view of tenants and lessees. It was only much later that I realized why leasing companies were so hesitant: Indian laws were unfavourable to the lessor and the laws governing helicopter lease made it difficult for companies to recover their helicopter or payment dues.

  Karnataka State Industrial Investment Development Corporation (KSIIDC) is an investment arm of the state government with an investor-friendly mandate. We hoped to get money as loan or as equity from them to buy two helicopters and asked for Rs 10 crore. After considering our application and the general investment scenario, KSIIDC told us they could give us Rs 43 lakh as loan to fund our spare parts and hangar requirements.

  Even more shocking was the fact that KSIIDC asked us to get our business plan approved by Pawan Hans, the only helicopter company in India. Pawan Hans was a public sector undertaking controlled by the ministry of civil aviation. They undertook government contracts and oil contracts but they were not into general charters. I vehemently refused to reveal my business plans to Pawan Hans, my only competitor. Finally, KSIIDC waived this condition and issued a letter of offer to us.

  Now that we had the licence, we began to work on various fronts. Sam continued to explore companies that would lease us a helicopter. I looked for a place to build an operations base and hangar for the helicopter. Bengaluru has three airfields. The Yelahanka air force base, HAL defence airport, and the Jakkur state government airport. The only user of the Jakkur airfield was the flying school which had been in existence for over fifty years. I discovered that the Jakkur airfield fell under the jurisdiction of the office of the chief minister.

  When we got the NOC, the Indian political and economic scenario were both undergoing a change. The government at the centre was led by Narasimha Rao during the last days of his government. Narasimha Rao had teamed up with Manmohan Singh as finance minister and P. Chidambaram as commerce minister. Their team had initiated, and taken forward, a fundamental economic reforms process. Sonia Gandhi had become a recluse, the stoic woman in self-imposed mourning after the tragic death of her husband, Rajiv Gandhi, some years earlier. Narasimha Rao had become quite well-accepted as the new leader of India and was respected across the political and social spectrum. He had brought new hope to a moribund economy. International observers had hailed him as the leader who was pushing India, for a long time written off as a struggling economy, on the road to economic transformation and long-term success. There was a general euphoria about India.

  We had the licences and the people but no helicopter. At just about that time, one day out of the blue, Mike Robbins called. He had continued to look around for a used helicopter for us. This time he had news. ‘There is a company in Japan,’ he informed us. ‘It is a leasing company and has fifty helicopters across the world. I’ve spoken to them about you. They want to set up a meeting with you.’

  I contacted the leasing company, ITC Leasing International. A senior representative of the company arrived in Bengaluru. We met for dinner at the Taj West End and spent three or four hours talking. We talked about India, about the upward path of the economy, about the reforms, about how this was not a flash-in-the-pan project. I said that if India succeeds, we would need not one or two or a dozen helicopters but thousands. I spoke of my dream with conviction and feeling.

  The visitor said nothing. The Japanese say little and I have often been tempted to think they are dumb. But individually they are like members of an ant colony. Alone, an ant does not survive but a million ants together constitute an architectural masterpiece: the anthill. So it is with the Japanese. A few of them only buzz: a few more and they make a Sony.

  The gentleman asked no questions; answered none. He listened. Dinner over, he wished me goodbye and returned to Japan.

  The email had begun to find favour among early users but we were not yet email-savvy. It was still a curiosity. Instead, we had plain old fax machines. The following day I received a fax message when I was at my agricultural solutions office. The office was busy with farmers, agricultural and horticulture workers, mechanics, among others. Above the din rose the voice of my secretary. He said there was a fax from ITC Leasing. Wearing my heart on my sleeve and clutching at it with both hands I ran my eyes over the A4 message sheet. It was a one liner. ‘We are very pleased to inform you that our board has decided to offer you one helicopter: Bell Long Ranger L3.’

  I was overcome with emotion. Sam and I hugged each other. At last, we had a licence, a helicopter, pilots, and engineers. All we needed was the money, and now nothing could stop money from coming our way!

  However, the joy the fax message brought us was short-lived.

  Parliamentary elections were held in 1997 and belied the predictions of the poll pundits and astrologers. The Rao government was denied a second term of office. It was a hung parliament and the country was plunged from the relative high of economic reforms to the low of an uncertain future. The single largest party was the BJP but it was short of a simple majority. Atal Bihari Vajpayee cobbled up a coalition of various parties and staked a claim and the president invited him to form the government. His government was, however, unable to muster majority support and fell in exactly 13 days. Vajpayee was asked to become caretaker prime minister. That election marked a churning in the Indian polity, in the form of an emergence of regional parties and major electoral gains by the Left.

  Overnight a country on the rebound, a country embarked on a successful market, financial, and licensing reforms had suddenly been brought to a halt. Every major global newspaper wrote obituaries on the Indian economic reforms. The constitution provides for presidential rule in the states if there is a hung assembly; but it does not provide for president’s rule at the centre. People outside the country interpreted the chaos as the end of India’s march towards stable democracy and the end of reforms.

  The hung Parliament had melancholic consequences for our business. The euphoria of the first fax from ITC Leasing, Japan, offering us a helicopter had buoyed our enthusiasm and kept our morale high but we received a second fax from the company. It was another one-liner: ‘We are nervous about India. We are withdrawing our offer to fund the helicopter.’ I was reminded of a few lines from a Robert Burns poem ‘To a Mouse’:

  But Mouse, you are not alone,

  In proving foresight may be vain:

  The best laid schemes of mice and men

  Go often askew,

  And leaves us nothing but grief and pain,

  For promised joy.

  Sam was completely shattered and the entire team shrouded in a pall of gloom. I managed to stay calm and did not lose faith or courage. Something in me prevented me from breaking. My optimism continued to burn. I said this was just one more obstacle. We had to overcome and we would. I told Sam, ‘Look, if one door closes, another one opens. Don’t worry, we mustn’t lose hope.’

  We, therefore, began afresh. We knocked at new doors, wrote new letters. Sorrow and self-pity consume enormous quantities of energy. If you only can desist from feeling victimized by fate and look for a new solution instead, not only would you conserve old energies but at the same time also feel the surge of the new. New hope is kindled in the process.

  All battles are essentially fought in the mind, and it is what happens there that makes or breaks us. Action is another fantastic antidote to d
espair. I did not waste time in wasteful regret and sought an alternative opening; a new way out.

  One day, in the midst of the gloom, I received a letter from a gentleman called Vidya Babu who worked for a helicopter company in Macau. He wanted to know if there were opportunities for a helicopter engineer. I was indeed looking for an engineer. Vidya Babu was a typical Indian émigré from Tamil Nadu and possessed a sharp, critical mind capable of problem-solving. He was among those who worked within budgetary constraints and yet delivered great work. A company like ours was in no position to spend money on frills. I signed him up. That completed the entire resource pool.

  Vidya Babu suggested that we operate from a tent or shack to begin with and later add a hangar and other facilities. I, however, took a different view. People using our helicopters would be corporate or wealthy people. A shoddy makeshift office or hangar would not inspire their confidence. I wanted the helicopter company to be a ‘ten-star’ one. We would save money and cut costs elsewhere but the engineering and maintenance facilities, customer reception area, the VIP lounge would need to match international standards. The frontage should inspire confidence or customers would feel they were using an inferior-quality helicopter service.

  Where would we build the facility? There was HAL airport but Sam said it was better to be outside the city or the visibility would be poor. There was Yelahanka belonging to the air force and Jakkur airfield on the outskirts of Bengaluru. Built around the village of Jakkur, it had one of the earliest and most highly reputed flying schools in India. The chief minister was the decision-maker with regard to the airfield. The best thing was to go and meet the CM, J.H. Patel of the Janata Party.

  On my way to see him, I thought about Singapore. About how, although a small island, Singapore hosted the offices of major engine and aircraft manufacturers including Pratt & Whitney and Rolls Royce, Boeing and Airbus. Singapore had become the regional headquarters for most multinational companies and especially for aviation majors. Why did these companies choose the tiny island of Singapore and not India?

  Singapore was not in the logistical proximity of Nepal, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar. Logistics do play an important role in aviation. Aircraft require a continuing overhaul and replacement of parts. The safety standards are extremely stringent and companies are extremely particular about meeting these standards. A helicopter engine rated for 3000 hours of flying had to be replaced exactly at the 3000th hour. Some parts have a calendar life and some are replaced on the basis of usage, in terms of number of hours. Ninety-five per cent of all helicopter parts had to be completely replaced and not allowed to run even for a minute extra. It was possible however, to have a new aircraft or a slightly older aircraft with all parts brand new.

  Aviation companies would not however use services if offered in India because of delays and the cost overheads stemming from the bureaucratic process. Landings were delayed at airports, there were other restrictions and checks at the airport, high tariffs added to the cost of operations. India would not be able to match Singapore in the promptness of service. It would be impossible to bring in an engine from Nepal or Pakistan into India, repair it, and send it back the same day.

  I thought it was absurd for India to lose this business. India had the talent. Of thirty-one engineers at Singapore Technology Aerospace, nineteen were Indians. Air India and the Indian government initially helped set up Singapore Airlines. Half the airline’s engineers and pilots were Indian. Indian airlines and the Indian aviation sector had declined but Singapore Airlines had grown to become an aviation icon. The absence of similar facilities in India also meant that Indian aviation companies had to spend a lot of money on maintenance. Just to replace a bearing, an engine would have to be sent to Singapore. For a part costing $500 you would end up spending $50,000. The cost of shipping to Singapore, repair, and part replacement, and return shipping was twenty times the cost in India. Aviation companies would besides have to bear the cost of freight charges, insurance, and loss of operational time, custom formalities, and high labour costs.

  These were the thoughts flitting around in my head as I went to meet the chief minister by prior appointment. I spoke with conviction and tried to convince him that Bengaluru had the talent and the infrastructure, and the potential to become the aviation capital of the world.

  I explained to him that to set up a helicopter company I could go to Chennai or to Hyderabad, ‘But I am from Karnataka and it is my dream to set up an aviation industry in Bengaluru. Can you help me?’ I asked.

  The chief minister asked me to state clearly what I wanted. I told him that what I wanted was to set up a helicopter charter service; build a world-class facility; set up an engineering facility; but more than anything else, at the outset, to build a hangar. For that, I said, I wanted an acre of land at Jakkur airfield. I reminded the chief minister that the airfield fell under his jurisdiction.

  The CM replied, ‘Captain, I will give you land and I will also be your first customer.’ The joy and relief I felt was unbounded. CM Patel called his principle secretary, N. Vishwanathan and instructed him to assist me.

  The IAS had become very powerful over the years and for a number of reasons, so much so that they controlled the economy. In the early years, the Indian political climate was semi-socialist; the regime was bureaucratic. Administrators interpreted and implemented policies. Being socialist, translated into control over licensing. Besides granting the licence, the joint secretary of industry also decided how many scooters Bajaj could manufacture. If the bureaucrat, in his wisdom, decided that steel was better utilized in making goods for use in the rural economy rather than in cars or scooters, there would be a reduction in the steel allocated for scooter manufacture. If Bajaj manufactured more scooters than the licence permitted, the company would be penalized.

  Power endowed prerogative and bureaucrats learnt to dispense favours. Most were honest and well-meaning but went by the rule book and controls choked the economy. The state got into producing everything from bread to steel. It also controlled private businesses that manufactured bread and steel. The bureaucrat was aware that excessive control was bad for the economy but the exercise of power was an ego-booster. Control was therefore the source of bureaucratic discretion and nothing moved in corridors of power without the sanction of the IAS lobby. The IAS officer’s tenure was fixed, and his or her performance was rarely questioned.

  Many officers were, however, well-meaning and bent the rules to support a good cause. Mr Vishwanathan was outstanding in this sense. He was part of my good fortune. The documents had been prepared by that evening and I received a letter signed by the chief minister the following evening. It said our company had been sanctioned one acre of land at Jakkur airfield.

  It was good not to take moral high ground and be judgmental. If you had the determination to desist from corruption, there were good people who would help you out. None of the IAS officers, barring one, in my last twenty years, asked me for a bribe.

  The actual handover of the land took some time. The principal of the flying school in Jakkur had raised an objection to the CM’s decision to give us part of the land. He had complained that helicopters would hamper the operations of the flying school.

  I met Mr Vishwanathan about this and we spoke at length. I expressed shock and pointed out that the flying school was defunct. It had a total of six aircraft which had been grounded due to internal politics. The principal was not permitted to fly for medical reasons. Besides, airports handled hundreds of flights a day: Chicago Airport operated 3000 flights, Singapore Airport 650. Rather than asking helicopters to stop flying we should be addressing the question of how helicopter and flying operations could be made seamless. It was only a matter of sequencing, landings and departures. I said I could not imagine how someone from a defunct flying school could write such a letter. Whoever had written it was totally unaware of how things worked in the real world, and demonstrated a destructive tendency.

  Mr Vishwanathan re
sponded with a smile.

  There were administrators who are quick to help projects, others who were quick to scuttle projects. Vishwanathan belonged to the former category and did not misguide the CM. He said he would form a committee to look into the matter and make a recommendation. I suggested a few names. Well-known aviator Air Marshal Lamba was one. There were a couple of other names from Indian Airlines and Air India. The committee examined the issue and made its recommendation. It said there should be no problem once the right processes and systems were in place. Mr Vishwanathan then formally handed over the land to us.

  Jakkur airfield is a beautiful expanse of 250 acres. A chunk of land about sixty metres by sixty metres was carved out of the larger tract, and that became ours. The first thing we did was to pitch a tent and hired a security guard. I love tents. My school was run in a tent, much of my army life was spent in tents, and on the farm, a tent was my first abode.

  In those early days when the WTO had just been set up, countries seeking vast, open markets suddenly became protective about their own. India was seeking the opening up of some areas while trying to protect some others. It was a very complex web. As with climate change, if you destroyed the rainforests of Amazon Basin, or of Myanmar or Indonesia, India’s climate too would be affected. The analogy could well apply to the political, financial, and social climate of the world. An upheaval in one country affected life elsewhere. What I experienced illustrated this closely-knit web.