Finance and Business Leadership

A loss unrecovered

Shortly after my birth in May 1960 and spending time at my maternal grand-parents home in Pandori, my Mom moved back to our paternal home in Pasla. I was named Ranjit by my paternal grandfather. At the time, I had two elder siblings, a sister, Surinder, and brother, Bhupinder.

When I was six months old, Dad moved from the family farming business to the UK for a better life. He worked hard in a foundry to put food on the table for the family and, soon after we arrived, my younger sister, Ragbir, was born. We settled in Luton, Bedfordshire, where I grew up with just the basic facilities. I joined school at the age of five under the name of Paviter. When I asked my parents why I was being given a new name, they told me that it was the name given to me and registered by my maternal grandparents when I was born.

We spoke Punjabi at home and I did not know a word of English. It was difficult to settle in school but, as I spent time with friends and played Soccer, I quickly picked up the language.

As a child, I was very naughty, always getting injured and into trouble both at school and home. I remember once locking Ragbir in our neighbour’s car and left her there until the family found her after many hours. But my parents were very disciplined. Every morning, they woke us up early before they left for work. On the way to school, there were beautiful houses. I often thought whether, if I worked hard, I could live in a house like one of those and in such a prestigious neighbourhood. My Dad often warned me against my ambitious dreams yet I dared to – and I dreamed big, no matter how I performed at school! No one really knew in the early days that I was struggling at school until my brother learnt it from my teachers and told our parents. From that day I decided that things were going to change.

I put in an enormous amount of effort and did exceptionally well. Within a year, I went from the bottom to the top of the class. It gave me a huge confidence boost and I started loving my studies. By this time, I had practiced Soccer a lot to play for the school. But then we suffered a major blow when Mom was diagnosed with kidney failure in 1969. She was admitted to a hospital in London for a number of years. Dad earned his livelihood, my siblings went to work and school but I, being one of the youngest in the family, missed her terribly, so much so that I regularly skipped school to see her. I used to get lunch money from my father that I did not spend on food but on buying a train ticket to London. Alone, at the age of nine, I would catch a bus and then a train to go and see her, some 34 miles away. Seeing her struggle, I decided I would become a doctor when I grew up, but, one day, when I returned from school, I heard people crying inside the house. She had passed away. My world was suddenly shattered and it was really difficult for me to come to terms with her loss. I knew she was ill, but I did not expect her to leave so soon. With her gone, my ambition of studying medicine also died.