Connectivity Redefined

In a world ruled by software and hard cash, Arun Jain, the man behind the home-grown Polaris success story, still believes that family networks come first. Susan George speaks to the first-generation entrepreneur.

Casinos offer viable alternatives to foreign exchange counters. That's what Arun Jain discovered on a trip to New Zealand. It was the third of January. For New Zealand that meant banks, revelling in post-New Year's Eve syndrome, had downed their shutters. A quick look at his wallet determined that it held credit cards and US dollars – neither of which the service apartment where he was staying accepted. Thinking on his feet, Jain made his way to a nearby casino and turned in his US currency for a chance to keep the Kiwis content.

That's Arun Jain for you. Quick-witted, resourceful, and, surpassing all other labels, just a regular nice guy. His pinstriped suit is serious, his business card announces that he holds an enviable position, his office is imposing. But, the impression that the Polaris Software Lab Ltd chairman and CEO leaves you with is that he's a man who enjoys a good laugh. He may be the architect of a software empire worth millions, but his entrenched geniality defines his personality.

"I love having people around me. I grew up in a large family and that taught me how to work with people, get the best out of them. It keeps me charged and running," says Jain, who was the ninth of 10 children, in a middle class Delhi family. Travel was low on the family's priority list, says Jain, who hadn't set foot out of Delhi the first 16 years of his life. Today, with Polaris offices and clients scattered all over the world, Jain has been to more than twenty countries.

A penchant for the 'different' drives Jain. On his trip to New Zealand, he defied the then-ominous Y2K bug: on January 1, 2000, Jain was one of eight or so passengers aboard the dreaded flight. Another not-so-regular junket he planned with his family was to China – a group of four strict vegetarians taking on China at the height of its infamous winter. "It was at a time when Indians didn't think of China as a tourist destination. China has a fascinating history, which many of the western countries don't have. But somehow it doesn't figure on the memory map of tourists in India." The inclination to explore cultures of different countries is a passion for Jain. When he's not country hopping, he's often immersed in anthropology-based books, delving into what makes people tick. In the final analysis, Jain says, "People all over the world are the same. We say we live in an IT world, in an era of modern technology, but things have not changed. Fundamentally, people are not IT people or manufacturing people. People are people."

On the occasional day off, Jain doesn't scrimp on the good times. But he doesn't adopt the suave IT R&R routine either. Always the quintessential family man, a long drive or a trip to the beach with his wife and two children are more to his liking. "Anywhere without a cell phone," he says, with his characteristic buoyant laugh. Chennai has been home to him for the past ten years and Jain contends that he enjoys its closely-knit, small town-like atmosphere. His favourite spots in the city include the beach at Fisherman's Cove, the pasta bar at The Park, and Dakshin, the restaurant offering southern cuisine at the Park Sheraton. Ever adaptable, he grins and bears with the lack of vegetarian food available abroad. "I've developed a taste for pasta just to remain mobile," he chuckles. "And of course there's always Italian pizza and there are some vegetarian Mexican dishes as well." With a glass of red wine, for the ostensible purpose of "easing digestion of cheese in the food," Jain says that his meal is complete. It's not surprising that he steers clear of the glitzy when it comes to choosing hotel accommodation. In fact, service apartments cater more to his taste, says Jain, his reasons being, "You can do a little bit of your own cooking, and the children can sleep in as late as they want." Other than simple and clean rooms, Jain's prerogative in hotels is clear: a hearty breakfast. "When you're on a business trip, you never know when you're going to be having lunch. For breakfast you find more vegetarian dishes," says Jain.

It has been a little over six months since Jain was held captive in Jakarta by the police over a local client’s complaint – a time when he had India rooting for him. He didn't plan an exotic getaway to recuperate. A New Year's eve family reunion in his old home in Delhi proved adequate therapy. And of course there's the question of running a multi million-dollar company. "In growing the company year after year, work becomes like meditation. They say when you meditate, you forget about everything else. Work is similar to that," contends Jain.

Although he has moulded Polaris Software into a global software corporate meeting client requirements across 20 countries, Arun Jain retains his down-to-earthness. Thinking about the philosophy he lives by, he becomes serious. "I'm fortunate - God has given me some special abilities and placed me in a special environment. If you look at it from a dispassionate view, this is a position where you can influence many people. If there are 4,500 people working in Polaris, it indirectly impacts about 50,000 people in the environment. The challenge is, outside the business objective, how you make them better citizens, better value-based people." If you take your cue from Arun Jain, then family values and unpretentious humility, topped with a generous portion of laughs, would be the way to go.