New Delhi: Anthony Jesudasan, popular as Tony to his friends and enemies, has crossed the rainbow bridge on February 20, 2023. He was 71 and had suffered a heart attack on a flight from Bhopal to Delhi. He would be laid to rest at a crematorium in the Delhi Cantonment on February 21, 2022.
He always helped journalists; they valued him more than their editors. Jesudasan would always dine with the editors at their homes, discussing rock music, single Malt, Montecristo cigars and diet beer, apart from business. During a television show, an anchor asked him: “So what exactly is your job.” Jesudasan replied: “I observe people, gather information.” The anchor was flummoxed.
Once Niira Radia – then a top influencer with the Tatas and Reliance – took three editors to heap dust on Jesudasan at a swanky hotel for lunch. She wanted the meeting to be top secret. The editors kept on listening to her and kept on eating the expensive lunch and kept on messaging Jesudasan from the table itself. At the end of the meeting, Jesudasan knew what the rival camp was contemplating.
His influence in the media was enormous. No media-person was turned away for want of stories. He would stand alone under the cover of darkness to hand over editors important papers for next day’s headlines, and then get into an auto rickshaw to return to his office. His juniors would be called plant managers by pesky reporters. When he operated from the Meridien Tower, editors would sneak into his office from the door opening to the office toilet. And they all would come in the evening.
Jesudasan did not mind. He helped many, but could not help some. Those he could not help, turned his enemy. During the infamous raid on Outlook and the Raheja group, an exasperated Vinod Mehta sought help from Jesudasan. The latter called the all-powerful Brajesh Mishra at the PMO to resolve the problem. Once a top minister called him up to checkmate a reporter who was keen to do a copy on the minister’s deal that messed a state-owned corporation. Jesudasan called the reporter and requested him to drop the copy.
Why, asked the reporter? Because the amount involved is not much, replied Jesudasan. Never hurt if you cannot draw blood, he told the reporter.
He had strange names for people. He called someone Laddu, probably the person – a minister – worked with a kids brain. There was someone he had named Sancho Panza, probably someone representing Bombay Dyeing that had a bitter tussle with the Ambanis.
But every time Jesudasan did not taste success. Dhirubhai had plans to launch India’s first pink business daily but a confidant left the Observer group and leaked the news to the Jains of The Times of India. And then, The Economic Times changed its colour with a tagline, The Pink Edge. Jesudasan was crestfallen, he was also upset when the Ambani brothers fought a bitter battle over family silver. He wanted both to stay united, it was not going to happen. That was one battle Jesudasan lost, despite having the Indian media split wide open between the elder Mukesh and younger Anil.
He was a lighthouse of information, he always had files that include many crucial documents. He once told me about a bizarre incident that took place in the Indian Capital where the CIA shot two dangerous elements in the heart of the city. He told me to identify 20 chapters and wanted to call his book The Unknown Delhi but lost interest, probably because he was warned not to make an attempt.
He prayed silently, away from the gaze of his friends and enemies, drove a Harley Davidson with his wife Parul for long runs but never got excited over Christmas. You could drop in at his home for a slice of cake. But he would not tell you if he attended the midnight mass.
Once a top editor and a friend of Jesudasan got both excited and enlightened after his visit to Mecca and Medina, Jesudasan asked the editor to calm down and have coffee. Religion never excited him.
He was the Puck of the Midsummer Night’s Dream. Some called him D’Artagnan, always named after the three musketeers or the ABCs of the Indian economy, Dhirbhai Ambani, V Balasubramanian and Dhirbhai’s finance hear DN Chaturvedi. He loved simple things of life, a cake on his anniversary in faraway Kerala, some pink champagne which he often shared with a former ED official who is now a politician.
He was handpicked by Dhirubhai from USIS where he handled communications and even launched an environment magazine with the young Mohan Pisharoty – a journalist – as its editor. Since then, he has remained with the divided Ambani family (read Anil Ambani). He was Anil Ambani’s blue-eyed samurai in Lutyens Delhi, able to cut through any bureaucratic red tape that might trip his company.
He had a calling card that had no designation and had a classy, low key style of working. He would pick up shirts from the Raymond store at Khan Market, but he was never keen on having coffee in one of the many cafes at the market. He preferred the coffee at his office which had an imposing photograph of Dhirubhai. Every day, he worked through the maze of departmental files to achieve what many claimed was near impossible.
He was a little worried once the Radia tapes surfaced and took India by storm. Every morning, specially-commissioned men would scan his room at Delhi’s upmarket Aurangzeb Road office cum residential complex for bugs. There was fear in the sky, Jesudasan was named – claimed Business Today – amid a list of potential targets of Israeli spyware Pegasus, along with Anil Ambani. It was reported that the phone numbers used by Anil Ambani and another official of ADAG were added to the leaked list. The reports named Jesudasan as the other company official.
His circle of friends and admirers was large. Of course, strewn here and there were select enemies. Jesudasan went through rough periods and suffered indignities when he was searched by the government agencies. But the indomitable Jesudasan never went into a shell and bounced back and hit those who hurt him.
Such was his prowess once a top official of Enron suggested to his bosses that they pay Jesudasan some $25,000 per month so that he remains silent and not attack Enron. Jesudasan refused the offer.
Jesudasan could easily fit into any shoes. He could dine at Bukhara, the expensive restaurant at ITC Maurya Sheraton and also eat a two-rupee dosa from an aluminum plate at the UNI canteen. When he lived in the swanky Sainik Farms in the southern parts of the Indian Capital, he would sit in the garden, watching big blue bucks walking in for food. Jesudasan also fed a large number of dogs who lived close to his home. He knew when Dhirubhai would call, and on which landline. He had a number of them. Once the phone rang and Dhirubhai would start in his imitable style by saying: “The morning shows the day”. Jesudasan was ready with answers to questions he knew the patriarch would ask.
He was in sync with the modern lobbying mantra: he reminded himself mere blandishments alone won’t do the trick; you must have an idea too. He always said: “Media matters in lobbying.” He had the rare ability to think calmly under great pressure and had long standing relationships across the political spectrum, businesspersons and media.
He was a deft cartographer, with a firm grip on not just the levers of power but its changing topography as well. He told the Ambanis that inducement and the suitcase are apparently no longer enough. For Jesudasan, there was as always a new need, a need for a good idea. He knew the bureaucracy must be convinced of his arguments. You need to be a good finisher, and close the deal.
And you need to be ubiquitous, and yet invisible. In a city of intrigue and counter-intrigue, where a small note on the file can swing millions, and levers of power could be bent in many ways, Jesudasan was the ultimate influencer.
