Bengaluru listens and gives space for one to grow: T V Mohandas Pai | Bengaluru News

By Suruchi Kapur-GomesWhen Padma Shri awardee T V Mohan das Pai says, “Bengal uru is a vibrant global economy — a $180 billion GDP, $14,000 $15,000 per capita income, 26 lakh in technology, 20,000 startups, 52 unicorns and $130 billion in ser vice exports,” the pride is unmis takable. For him, numbers are not statistics but ammunition for change. A finance leader, philan thropist and governance activist, Mohandas believes progress must be earned through discipline, mer it and civic participation — and above all, respect for Bengaluru. “Bengaluru is my karma bhoomi, my dharma bhoomi. I’m proud to be a Bengalurean,” he says. Wheth er backing the city’s growth, co founding BPAC with Kiran Majum dar Shaw and Ranjan Pai to strengthen governance, supporting causes quietly, or helping shape In fosys into a benchmark institution, the Rajyotsava awardee’s faith in the city remains unwavering. A CANTONMENT THAT CAME OF AGE WITH IT Conferred a lifetime achieve ment honour in 2025, Mohandas Pai shrugs off accolades. His ac tivism began as a law student and his precision with numbers as a chartered accountant, earn ing him the reputation of a “best CFO.” Today, as chairman of 3one4 Capital and co-founder and chairman of Aarin Capital, his message to Bengalureans is di rect: be proactive. “People moan and groan. I say, spend 10 percent of your time for the community. Visit your MLA, ward councillor or commissioner. Talk to them. They’ll respond. A better Bengal uru will emerge,” he says. In essence, he believes, the Kannadiga spirit prevails: live and let live. teacher, anchoring a middle-class upbringing rooted in discipline and aspiration. At St Joseph’s Boys’ High School, students from every social stratum mingled freely. “We ate, played and stud ied together,” he says. Sports were central too. “We had a great team. Roger Binny was there; many Indian players were honed,” he notes. Later, while studying at St Joseph’s College of Commerce, pursuing law and qualifying as a CA, he remembers Brigade Road walks, cricket at Central College and by-two coffees at Koshy’s. “It was simple living,” he smiles. Those years, he says, defined Bengalu ru’s character. “An artist or professor was respected. Power and pedigree mattered less. Bengalureans are unpreten tious. They value intellect.” THE SHAREHOLDER WHO ASKED TOO MANY QUESTIONS Ironically, Mohandas never planned to work for anyone. “I got 11 job offers, all outside Ben galuru,” he recalls. Instead, he devoured over 2,000 annual re ports and became known at shareholder meetings for his pointed questions. “Some companies avoided Bengaluru because we were too questioning,” he says with a grin. That instinct led him to an Info sys shareholders’ meeting in July 1993 at the West End, where he quizzed Narayana Murthy, and later Nandan Nilekani. Con versations followed. An offer came. A defining journey began. “It was the start of a great jour ney. We had full freedom,” he says. Infosys set new standards in HR, technology, finance and investor relations. Its annual re port became a gold benchmark, the company listed on NASDAQ, and its ESOPs created over 20,000 Indian millionaires, generating more than `1 lakh crore in wealth. “It was egalitarian. Com mon toilets, economy flights, modest hotels. We didn’t take market salaries for years,” he says. As India’s IT services in dustry grew into a $235-billion export powerhouse employing six million, Mohandas saw Info sys as more than corporate suc cess. “It was middle-class ethics institutionalised,” he says.A city under strainSuccess, however, has strained Bengaluru. Traf c de nes daily life. There are fewer parks. Children no longer cycle freely. But Mohandas rejects nostalgia and fatalism alike. Data-driven progress, he insists, is the answer. At B.PAC, the aim was to improve governance. “We trained 600 people in civic activism and grassroots politics to become ward councillors across parties — to create a coalition of good, so ordinary people can aspire to be representatives.” Yet he notes, bluntly, that in the last election, over half the wards were won by real estate brokers. “Governance must make policy, enforce it and deliver services.” Mobility is urgent. Bengaluru needs 15,000 buses; it has around 7,000. Nearly 85,000 vehicles are added every month. He points to Singapore’s multi-operator transport model, critiques Metro delays — but stops short of despair. “Our political culture here is better. Politicians listen. They may disagree, ght, but they engage,” he says. A rebel with many causesActivism arrived early. After the Emergency, he was part of a student strike demanding revaluation of exam papers. “I got 52 in accounts. It should have been 95,” he laughs. It was re-evaluated to 92. Law college in the mornings, CA classes in the evenings, one pair of jeans worn through the year — “We were anti-establishment,” he recalls. Nuclear disarmament marches. Campaigning for a sports quota. Endless arguments on the SJCC lawns. His prized possession was a Yezdi motorcycle, bought for `7,800. An articleship at Singhvi Dev & Unni LLP followed — courtroom discipline, estate audits in monsoon-bound Wayanad, long stretches in forest bungalows. It was there, in relentless rain, that his now-iconic beard took shape. Pai attributes Karnataka’s openness to the Kannadiga ethos. “The culture is fantastic. People are welcoming, kind, mellow, open, and treat you with great respect. Live and let live is the motto,” he says.