I have a hypothesis about Rajshree Pathy, but let’s get back to that in a bit.
Meanwhile, the first inkling that Pathy isn’t your typical CEO comes when an emailed request for a Business Lounge comes back via a quick SMS that simply says, “I would love to”.
And, a few weeks later, at Blu, the rooftop bar in downtown Singapore’s Shangri-La Hotel, I am starting to realize just how different.
“Do we really need that?” says Pathy. “Imagine people carrying it around in their pocket all the time.”
That happens to be my sliver of a digital recorder and typically, it is very rare for a business head to agree to a one-on-one without worrying about being misquoted. We are perched comfortably on bar stools after both of us decide we are not all that hungry any more and skip the hard-to-get table I had reserved in Blu’s dining room for a 9pm dinner. We happen to be in town for the World Economic Forum’s East Asia summit, but a long day, filled with big meetings and small talk, isn’t showing on Pathy, a picture of casually put together elegance.

Not so sweet: The government’s insensitivity to environmental needs upsets Pathy
“People don’t really walk around with this in their pocket, do they?” I ask, quietly worried that I might have to resort to taking hurried notes on bar napkins.
“Where do you think Tehelka gets all its stories?” Pathy quips.
“But Tehelka is not a bad newspaper. They do some very good stories,” I respond.
“I like it. I like Tarun (Tejpal, the CEO and editor-in-chief). I like what he has done. He has courage. He is a friend,” declares Pathy.
Friends. One more reason why Pathy isn’t your average Rolodex-filled executive not willing to name names. Throughout the evening, it would be clear that Pathy, who collects art, has also acquired a rather vast network of friends in high and low places, thanks to an effervescent personality, a love for travel and eclectic interests ranging from being a qualified deep-sea scuba diver with a passion for architecture, to being a single mother of two twentysomethings who, on the side, funds a free private school for 500 rural children.
The names come easily, be it Vijay (Mallya of Kingfisher) or Richard (Branson of Virgin) or Shekhar (Gupta of The Indian Express) and, unlike conventional namedropping, the context here has often very little to do with business, which adds a down-to-earth tinge to the conversation.
“If we are sitting here talking about balance sheets, I wouldn’t talk to you,” says Pathy, as she passes on an Australian Shiraz (too heavy for muggy Singapore) and settles for a French Merlot. I stick to my usual Glenlivet on the rocks.
“What about ethanol?” I ask, despite the embargo on pure business questions. After all, Pathy is chairman and managing director of Rajshree Sugars and Chemicals Ltd (she controls about 45% of the publicly traded company) and, some three years ago, served as the first—and since then only—woman president of the Indian Sugar Mills Association.