Just recently, we lost Dr. Manmohan Singh, the man who pulled India back from the edge of economic collapse in 1991. His visionary reforms didn’t just fix a crisis—they set India on the path to becoming a global economic powerhouse.

And then, there’s Mr. Osamu Suzuki. When I heard of his passing, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much this man reshaped India’s automotive future. He wasn’t just a businessman but a visionary who saw India’s potential long before most did.

Think back to the first time the Maruti 800 hit the roads. It wasn’t just a car. It was a dream come true for millions of middle-class families who’d never thought they could own a car. It was an aspiration embodied in steel and rubber.

But Mr. Suzuki’s story wasn’t just about making cars—it was about building connections. In the early ’80s, when India was still emerging from its closed economy, he boldly bet on India. He knew something many didn’t: India’s future is bright. And he made it happen.

Even when others doubted, his famous line echoed: “The future of India is bright. I believe in the people of India.” He didn’t just say it—he lived it. He put everything on the line, walking the streets of India, getting to know its needs, roads (or lack thereof!), and dreams. He didn’t come in with a one-size-fits-all solution—he crafted a car tailored to India.

Then came the Maruti 800—and it wasn’t just a hit. It was a game-changer. Sure, the journey wasn’t always smooth, but Mr. Suzuki never wavered. I’ve heard stories that when the project faced financial pressure, he offered to cut his own salary just to keep it going. That’s humility. That’s dedication.

The 1990s economic reforms opened the door for partnerships like Maruti Suzuki and weren’t just a backdrop. They allowed companies like Suzuki to thrive, creating jobs, modernizing India’s economy, and transforming its infrastructure.

But here’s the thing: Mr. Suzuki’s commitment to India was about more than business. He didn’t just build cars; he built relationships. His genuine love for Indian culture was evident in everything he did—from learning the language to respecting the people. This wasn’t just corporate speak—it was the heart of someone who truly believed in India’s spirit.

Fast forward to today, with Suzuki Labs now open in Hyderabad, his vision for India has moved beyond just mobility. It’s about innovation and continuing to shape India’s future for the better.

And as we think about India’s forward march, we can’t ignore how Prime Minister Modi’s “Make in India” and “Atmanirbhar Bharat” initiatives are taking the torch from the economic reforms of the ’90s and pushing India towards even greater heights.

So, as we bid farewell to Mr. Suzuki, we remember him not just for his cars but for the bridges he built. Rest in peace, Mr. Suzuki. Your vision will keep driving us forward—not just on India’s roads but in our hearts.