Two things strike you as you watch Aryaman Vikram Birla go through the paces of his first magazine cover shoot. One: he is oblivious of the eyes on him, possibly because of his time as a state level cricketer. And two: he has the affability (and smile) of a film star!
The 24-year-old son of Neerja and Kumar Mangalam Birla smiles whenever he spots someone new. We are at Jolie’s, Mumbai’s hip new members-only club, and Aryaman seems to know most staffers by name.
Has he always been this easygoing? And does he realise that many people look at him as their superboss-to-be?
“I’m certainly very inclusive at work. Each person I work with is important to what we do and to me. I’m also very democratic, so I like to get everyone’s opinion, then take an informed decision. I find that sometimes, it’s important to go out of your way and make people feel comfortable,” says Aryaman, “otherwise, they may have apprehensions and not open up easily.”
Bowled over
This is one of Aryaman’s first major interviews, yet he’s relaxed, respectful, restrained when taking tough questions, and disarmingly honest as only a zillennial can be. (Aryaman was born in July 1997, at the cusp of two generations: millennial and Gen Z.)
{{/usCountry}}This is one of Aryaman’s first major interviews, yet he’s relaxed, respectful, restrained when taking tough questions, and disarmingly honest as only a zillennial can be. (Aryaman was born in July 1997, at the cusp of two generations: millennial and Gen Z.)
{{/usCountry}}“Growing up, it was never about only school and study. It was also learn to sing, to dance, play a sport. I learned singing, I took art classes for the longest time and obviously, there came cricket. I loved the game: watching it, playing in the building with friends, in the corridor of the house, which I still do by the way…”
Aryaman’s passion for the game led him to Madhya Pradesh, where he played professional cricket and learnt life’s most important lessons. “I played for seven years from the age of 13; and when I started playing professional cricket, I lived in a place called Rewa and interacted with people at the grassroots level. The experiences there shaped my thought processes and values, and form the crux of who I am today,” he says. “That phase of life taught me the importance of hard work and discipline, and how to take success and failure in my stride.”
In December 2019, Aryaman pulled himself out of professional cricket in a rather unusual way: via a social media post explaining how the competitiveness of the game was giving him severe anxiety and that he had decided to take an “undefined sabbatical” to tend to his mental health.
“Doing this was hard,” says Aryaman thoughtfully. “One, you’re internally thinking: ‘Is this the right thing to do?’ And two, while my family was supportive and laid out the pros and cons of what the consequences could be, many others advised me otherwise. They told me to say I’d had a really bad fracture, that it hasn’t healed, and not say anything else. But I was vehement. I wanted to put it out there because not too many people speak about these things, and if I could help one person, it’d be worth it. Also, for myself, putting it out there just felt liberating!”
He adds, “I was in a space where I was ready to move to the next phase in my life, and I look at it as if I had changed jobs. We see that all the time: you do your education in one field, and you do a job in another. It’s like you were a banker, and today, you are the owner of a start-up.”
When he posted that note on Instagram, he didn’t tell anyone he was going to do it. “We were on a boat somewhere off the coast of Dubai, and I said, let’s get that weight off my shoulders, and I just did it,” he says. “In hindsight, I’m glad I had the courage to put it out.”
Fielding from the heart
Aryaman’s initial projects, the premium members-only club, Jolie’s, and pet products company, The PawpStar Co., seem to be passion-led. Even the newly-announced Aditya Birla Ventures helmed by Aryaman aims at not just infusing capital into start-ups, but working alongside them as well. Does he lead from the heart?
“That’s a hard question for me to answer. I really don’t know,” says the young scion. Then, as if thinking out loud, he adds, “I don’t know whether you should always lead by the heart or have your mind lead. I think it’s about where your heart takes you, and then you must be logical about things as well.”
He continues: “Aditya Birla Ventures is set up with idea of fostering this great start-up entrepreneur spirit that we all have seen in our country, especially now during the pandemic. Capital is one thing and is very important to a start-up. But we want to be able to provide meaningful value beyond that, whether it is through our global ecosystem, or by leveraging the group’s networks, etc.”
Over the last couple of years, he has worked in various parts of the family-owned group with his father, Kumar Mangalam Birla. “I’ve seen Dad juggle things, wear different hats through the day… it has been an important learning for me,” he says. “I’ve also learned about setting ambition and being patient with your ambition. It’s very easy to not be ambitious, or if you are, to be too impatient. Then, there’s our fashion and retail company, where things are so dynamic, one must be nimble-footed and constantly take decisions. It has all been an incredible learning experience, not only from my dad, but also from the many great leaders in our group. Just silently observing them, seeing the different leadership styles they exhibit… I continue to learn every day.”
Inside edge
It’s pretty unusual for a traditional business family to allow its children to take up singing, like Aryaman’s sister Ananya did, or launch a club, or play cricket. Do Aryaman and his siblings acknowledge the freedom their mum and dad have given them?
“Yes, absolutely,” says Aryaman in an instant, “our parents have been the wind beneath our wings. They have always asked us to follow what we want to do, and do it with hard work, discipline, dedication and single-minded focus. The fact that my sister took up singing, or that I played professional cricket… I think it’s sometimes not acknowledged enough. Even now, we sometimes bump into people and they tell my parents, “Tumne usko cricket chudwa dia…” [“You made him leave cricket…”] and that’s not the truth at all. It was my decision when I got into it, and likewise, it was mine to leave it when I did, and it’s mine to pursue my entrepreneurship businesses.”
Finally, does the Birla name ever weigh him down with the duties and expectations that come with it? Is he intimidated by what is expected of him?
Aryaman replies thoughtfully and precisely. “When I was younger, it was much harder,” he says. “When you’re in the third and fourth grade, you get asked silly questions, like, ‘How many cars do you have?’ Those things would embarrass me. During my cricketing years, when I’d go to the maidans for practice, I would make sure the car dropped me off 300 feet away, so nobody saw me arrive by car. I’d carry my kit and walk to the ground. I was a little embarrassed about these things. But then, cricket played a huge part: when I went to smaller places away from the little bubble we live in, I saw the respect and the privilege my last name brought with it. The impact that it has had on people, and the way people reciprocate love towards it. It opened my eyes and I realised how lucky I was. I’m proud of my name, it is who I am, it’s my duty, it’s part of me. There is pressure, sure, but everyone has their own pressures. I don’t think I am unique to that pressure. What I have before me is a great responsibility. I acknowledge that, and it’s one that I’m going to give my best to every single day.”
jamal.shaikh@hindustantimes.com
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From HT Brunch, February 6, 2022
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