In the almost 30 years since opening its first store in the UAE, the Al Adil Group of grocery shops has acquired a cult-like status among Indian expatriates. That’s because with 8,000 varieties of authentic Indian foods, including spices, pickles and poppadoms, it’s a store that literally bottles the taste of home.
It was created in 1984 by Mahadev Datar, and his son Dhananjay has made the tastes, smells and sights of Indian delicacies so irresistible that there are now 29 branches across the country, with 17 in Dubai.
Today, Dhananjay, 48, is ranked 19th in the top-50 list of richest Indians in the Gulf with a total net worth of $650 million (Dh2.4 billion). But he hasn’t forgotten his humble beginnings in a small village in Maharashtra, India.
“I never dreamt that I would be a successful businessman one day,” he says. “All I dreamt of then was a stomach full of food.” But from those days when he couldn’t afford a bicycle or breakfast to now, driving a made-to-order Rolls-Royce in Dubai, Dhananjay remains unchanged.
“To me my workplace is sacred,” he insists. “My customers are revered and my employees are my true assets.”
Work
I had a tough time as a child growing up away from parents and with no comforts. My father, Mahadev, was employed in the Indian Air Force as a flight sergeant and my mother, Shashikala, was a housewife. This was the late 1960s when government salaries were very low and transfers were frequent. My father was posted in northern India and we never lived in one place for more than two years.
When I was five, we were posted to a town in Punjab and I was put into grade 1 but, before I could complete the academic year, my father was transferred to another town in the same state and I had to repeat grade 1. The following year before I finished the school year he was due for another transfer and that’s when Dad decided he couldn’t keep disrupting my studies and sent me to live with my grandparents in Maharashtra. So in 1970, at five-and-a-half years old, I arrived in the sleepy village of Shirkhed in Akola district.
While my father led a very frugal life, my grandparents were even poorer. I do not remember ever having a breakfast as a child; just a glass of steaming-hot tea. Lunch was a flat coarse millet bread with thin lentil gruel, and dinner was one lentil flatbread with plain yoghurt. Often I would argue with my granny to add sugar to the yoghurt and she would reason with me gently, saying they needed the sugar for tea the next morning.
I walked barefoot to school and during the monsoons I would cover my head with a jute sack as an umbrella was a luxury we couldn’t afford. I never had a sweater and would shiver in my thin clothes.
I had just one uniform for school that I washed every evening and hung out to dry the next morning. I couldn’t afford ink, which came in a sachet in granular form that you had to dissolve in water to be able to use it. I’d borrow a few drops from my friends. A fountain pen that other children used was beyond our means and I had a piece of chiselled wood with a sharp tip I had to dip in the borrowed ink every time I wrote.
My brother Sanjay, who was far younger than I, got to stay with my parents as he didn’t have to go to school.
In 1973, my father retired from the air force and took up a government job that brought him to Mumbai and I moved back in with my family. We had a modest two-bedroomed house in Kalina, Santacruz.
I wasn’t very bright at school and was particularly weak in math. That has now taught me to check and double-check numbers. But eventually I managed to do a doctorate in business administration from the American Liberty University. I found the written test easy as it was based on practical business knowledge, something I have practised for so many years.
In Mumbai people always talked about how fortunes change in Dubai. My father already had plans for moving to Dubai and within two years he applied and got accepted for a job as a store manager in Jebel Ali. He moved to Dubai in 1976 and our fortunes changed. Suddenly there was enough food on the table and we could afford a television. I was determined to join my father in the business.
Play
In 1984, my father resigned from his job at Jebel Ali and with Dh4,500 to invest he opened the first store in Bur Dubai. He hired two helpers and by the time I joined at the age of 22 there was enough work to keep all four of us busy.
Initially it was to be just a grocery store but we soon realised that Indian expats were pining for the flavours and tastes of things they had enjoyed as kids – poppadoms, liquorice, herbal shampoos, sundried mango candy, hair oils, and spice mixes. The Sikh men would come and ask us to get their fixo gel to fix their beards and their particular shampoo, Kesh Nikhar. When we acquired these goods and supplied them to our customers, they were so happy. We had a one-on-one relationship with each customer and in those days many would just walk in to chat and greet us when they were missing home. Gradually we established our name as being the grocery store that stocked authentic Indian foodstuff.
I had to sweep the floor, clean the windows and carry the goods. I weighed 50 kilograms and had to lug 50-kilogram sacks on my back from the store to the shop floor. I’d have to ask one of the others to help me to lug a 90-kilogram bag of rice. But that is how my father trained me. He wanted me to be tough, without the airs of an owner. I learnt how to run the shop from the bottom up.
When I was ready, my father handed me the entire operation and retired at the age of 55, returning to Mumbai.
By 1986 all the major five-star hotels and airlines began placing their food orders with us and we opened a special spice mill in Al Quoz where we acquired whole spices and cleaned, powdered, packed and delivered them. We opened a branch in Abu Dhabi in 1993 and one in Sharjah in 1996.
I wanted to expand even further, but health issues prevented me. I was ill by the time I was 42 because I was so busy that I didn’t eat properly and my weight crept up to 105 kilograms. I began having acidity issues, and I had such a bad back that I was on very strong pain killers. Eventually I discovered I had a duodenitis, an inflammation of the duodenum caused by poor eating habits, so I completely changed my lifestyle. I began having eight smaller meals and cut out oil and when I was better, I joined a weight-loss programme and shed 25 kilograms. After that I made up for lost time.
Today we have 29 stores across the UAE and we have two flour and two spice mills. We also have plans to open in Oman and Qatar.
I have been greatly influenced by my father. He was extremely disciplined, and valued hard work and punctuality. When I was 40, he was over here on holiday and had gone into the office. I was a little late getting to work, arriving at 9am instead of 8.45am. He was so incensed at my tardiness that he actually slapped me.
I didn’t mind as I knew what punctuality meant to him and I respected him. He passed away three years ago at the age of 61.
To me my workplace is sacred; a place where my 500-plus workers are my family and my customers are all powerful. My suppliers are my partners. In the past 25 years our exports have simply gone up and up. Nearly 8,000 different items are exported from India and in terms of volume, that makes nearly 300 tonnes per day.
Now more than business, I feel a strong bond with my customers and I want to give them the best. I have realised the value of good health and want them to have the finest wholesome cereals, grains and other foodstuffs at reasonable prices. I have also introduced a certified organic produce section that has items at prices you would never hear of in Dubai.
As part of our business culture, we are extremely warm and accommodating to our customers who have mostly been loyal through the years. I have never jacked up prices in times of crisis such as the Gulf War or the plague in Mumbai where our exports were affected. I do not believe in taking undue advantage during hard times and holding our clients to ransom. That is highly unethical. I want my clients to have true value for money. In fact our accounts team pointed out to me that although last year we had more than 70 per cent growth, our profits weren’t very impressive, but I was happy because right now I am not concentrating on profit margins. My focus is customer satisfaction and I really intend to give back to society as much as I can.
Over the years I have learnt some home truths about work and life that help me always have the right perspective. I would like my children to imbibe these thoughts too.
Business has no caste or religion. If you have the determination to face a challenge, you must take a plunge. A new business is like a newborn where you have to continuously nurture it without expecting a return. Be patient and continue to build it with love and sweat and eventually it will yield profits.
In business you get to solve only 5 per cent of the problems, for the other 95 per cent you have to arrive at a compromise and that is why it is wise to learn to let go. Only then can you be successful.
Never forget your humility, even when you are very rich. Learn every day from your employees, customers and your children and be open-minded to receive those lessons when they come your way. Your client gave you the profits you enjoy, never forget that. Try and be modest about your achievements and never be ashamed of doing any kind of work, whatever it may be.
Finally, control your rage. Nothing can be solved with anger. Only your own family genuinely cares for you and loves you.
Dream
A few years ago we held my younger son Rohan’s thread ceremony 40,000 feet in the air and had a similar ride through the skies to celebrate the silver jubilee of the stores in 2009. Something so spectacular was unimaginable to me in the days I was growing up.
I want to work towards bringing prosperity to the lives of all those who have been associated with me – my employees and my suppliers. My wife Vandana, who belongs to a very humble farming family in the Satara district in Maharashtra and today is the financial director of our group, seconds my thoughts.
I’d like my sons – Rishikesh, 22 and Rohan, 15 – to always be aware of their roots and respect those who help them in their lives.
I’d like to introduce the concept of good health to every household and expand my organic produce to my clients. After my illness I realise the importance of well-being and strive to sell wholesome, high-quality products.
