The true measure of a person, I've come to believe, is not found in the bold headlines of their successes, nor in the staggering sums of their net worth. It is found in the quiet, unwritten ledger of their daily choices. It is tallied in moments of integrity when no one is watching, in acts of humility that defy status, and in a sense of stewardship that treats immense wealth not as a privilege, but as a profound responsibility.

For over forty years, I had a front-row seat to the life of a man who embodied this principle perhaps more than any other figure in modern industry: Mr. Anand. When young business graduates ask me about him, they often use the word "miser." They speak of the legends—the economy flights, the modest cars, the insistence on switching off lights—with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if they were discussing a curious eccentricity.

They miss the point entirely.