Remembering Gopichand Hinduja: The wealth of giving

As the world mourns a billionaire, a glimpse into the man who valued people over profits

 

The news of Gopichand Hinduja’s passing brings with it a quiet sadness. It’s the kind that settles in when you lose someone whose warmth transcends business empires and balance sheets. GP, as he was known to all who had the privilege of his friendship, left us on Tuesday in London. But what he left behind is far greater than the £35 billion fortune that crowned him Britain’s richest man.

 

I will always remember GP not for his business achievements, but his gentle spirit.

Sundeep Bhutoria with GP Hinduja

 

A table at the House of Lords

My memory travels back to a summer evening in July 2016, at the House of Lords. I was attending a reception and as is often the case at such parliamentary gatherings, I wasn’t expecting my taste of food. I had already requested my hotel to keep dinner ready for my return.

 

But that evening surprised me. It was the first time Indian cuisine had been served at the House of Lords. Pulao, aloo dam, dal, paneer bhaji, papadam, and raita had never tasted better.

 

Seated at my table were Baroness’s Lords and hotelier Ramesh Arora, the High Commissioner of Uganda, and GP himself. What struck me that evening wasn’t just the food, but the company. Here was one of the world’s wealthiest men, completely at ease, sharing a vegetarian meal and conversation with equal warmth whether speaking to a baroness or a visiting friend from Kolkata.

 

That was GP. No airs. No fuss. Just a genuine man, looking for a genuine conversation. From Mumbai to the world

 

Born into a Sindhi trading family in Mumbai, GP was the second of four brothers. Barely an adult, he was sent to Iran to run the family’s business after graduating from Jai Hind College. In later years, he would recall this moment as being pivotal in providing him with a grassroots understanding of business.

 

GP’s father’s philosophy became the family’s guiding principle: “Everything belongs to everyone and nothing belongs to anyone.” It was a maxim that would both define the Hindujas’ unity and, in later years, test it.

 

The brothers, Srichand, Gopichand, Prakash, and Ashok, fled Iran just before the 1979 revolution and made London their home. This started a new era for the Hindujas, making them the behemoths we know today.

 

As GP bids us goodbye, the world will talk about how he helped build over 40 companies, spanning banking, energy, automotive, real estate, and healthcare. Articles will be written about how Ashok Leyland commands 31 per cent of India’s heavy-vehicle market. Universities will teach case studies about the Gulf Oil acquisition from 1984. Over 200,000 people across 48 countries owe their livelihood to the Hinduja Group. But numbers tell only part of GP’s story.

 

Just days before his death, the Hinduja Group pledged Rs 20,000 crore for green energy and electric vehicle plants to Andhra Pradesh Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu, who hailed GP as a “visionary industrialist instrumental in transforming the Hinduja Group into a truly global conglomerate”. Even at 85, GP was planning, building, and investing in India’s future.

 

The man behind the empire

GP woke up at 5am every morning to listen to BBC World Service business reports, then walked to a temple in Soho before beginning his day. His morning walks through St James’s Park became a business legend. Any proposal could be pitched to him between 7:45 to 8:45 am, followed by free coffee. I too had the privilege of greeting him there on many summer mornings.

 

It was during one such walk that the idea for the Old War Office redevelopment took root. The £1.4 billion project transformed Winston Churchill’s former headquarters into the Raffles London hotel, where guests can now stay in Churchill’s office for up to £25,000 a night. It was GP’s way of thanking the country that had welcomed him so warmly all those years ago. In fact, just last July, his daughter Ritu graciously took me on a tour of the hotel during my visit to London.

 

This impulse to give back defined GP’s approach to wealth. Through the Hinduja Foundation, the family funds hospitals, schools, and disaster relief across India and the UK. “What is important in life is to give happiness to others,” he liked to say.

 

GP always knew the perfect Hindi song to hum for every occasion. His favourite? Shree 420’s "Mera Joota Hai Japani", a reminder that his heart remained Indian even as his empire spanned continents.

 

The Hindujas’ annual Diwali celebrations at their Carlton House Terrace residence were always memorable. Ambassadors, politicians, heads of state, and friends like myself would gather in the lavish Gold Room to enjoy London’s best Indian food and GP’s boundless hospitality.

 

GP’s gift was to make everyone feel welcome.

 

A bridged legacy

GP didn’t build contacts. He built connections. When I sat with him at that House of Lords reception, discussing everything from Brexit to bilateral trade while sharing dal and papadam, I saw a man who’d never forgotten where he came from or what truly mattered.

 

GP’s trademark smile lit up our table, making every exchange sweeter. There was not an ounce of pretence in GP. Even in one of the UK’s most prestigious spaces, he embodied everything he believed in: hospitality, inclusion, joy in small pleasures, and the enduring connection between cultures. I will forever hold our conversations from that night dearly.

 

I saw a very candid side to GP that night. He supported India at cricket matches against England. He maintained his morning temple visits even as he closed billion-dollar deals. He sang Hindi film songs in the UK’s grandest rooms. He forged bonds between India and Britain, tradition and modernity, business and compassion. His real legacy is not the billions he made, but the bridges he built.

 

Thank you, GP, for showing us that the greatest wealth isn’t what you accumulate, but what you share.

This article was published in the Daily Guardian