Circa 1981: it's a hot summer day in Gurgaon (Haryana), and K.P. Singh is seated on a charpoy next to a tubewell, talking to a villager. Except for some patches of greenery, the expanse around him is brown and barren.

The 49-year-old Singh has spent the better part of the morning trying to convince the villager to part with his ancestral land so that Singh's real estate development company can add to its modest landpool of 150 acres or so in Gurgaon. Just then, a jeep comes screeching onto the dirt track close by to where Singh and the villager are seated. A few meters into the jagged stretch, the jeep sputters to a halt.

Welch On Singh

While the driver takes a look at the problem, the jeep's occupant-a young, sophisticated man-decides to come out and bide his time with Singh on the charpoy. They get talking. The visitor has heard of DLF and asks Singh why he hasn't put to use the land DLF owns. Singh tells him that existing regulations don't allow private sector development of townships. ''Laws can be changed, right?'' asks the young man. ''Sure, but we've been trying for years now,'' replies Singh.

Three years later, when the young man became India's Prime Minister, laws would be amended to allow private companies to build townships. The man Singh met on that fateful day was Rajiv Gandhi.

January, 2002: ''What do you see?'' asks Singh, scanning the grey evening horizon in front of him. From atop the 21-storey DLF Square in Gurgaon, the sight is one of a bustling city. Hundreds of townhouses dot the green landscape, interrupted by imposing, multi-storeyed buildings-some built and the others under construction, like the 532-unit Belvedere Park & Tower. You tell him so.

''Wrong,'' pat comes the reply. ''What I see is a city whose young residents tomorrow will change the face of the nation. Here, for instance,'' he points to some 80-odd acre of vacant land in between DLF Square and the signature Gateway Tower, ''we will build the world's best cybercity that will put Haryana on the IT map. Development is meaningless if it does not bring prosperity to people in and around it.''

Coming from somebody else in the murky world of real estate, that would have been a good joke. But this is Kushal Pal Singh. Less than two decades ago, he bet his company on Delhi moving further south to Gurgaon. Today, at 69, Singh is India's richest and most successful real estate tycoon. His 3,000-acre DLF City in Gurgaon is the only integrated township of its kind in India. Sure, the Hiranandanis and Rahejas of Mumbai are big names too, and have world-class apartments in places like Powai, Kandivali, and Borivali. But in terms of sheer size, DLF City is unmatched. Consider: the DLF city has 20,000 residential units and 14 lakh sq. ft of India's best commercial property. Concedes rival and friend, Sushil Ansal, 62, Chairman, Ansal Properties and Industries: ''One needs to have vision and leadership to achieve what KP has.''

Most companies that have put down roots in Gurgaon have leased, not bought, real estate from DLF. Thus, while the rentals appear on DLF's financial statements, the true value of the assets doesn't. Therefore, while DLF Universal's balance sheet shows a purchase price gross assets of Rs 648 crore, real estate experts estimate that DLF City at today's market rates would be worth anywhere between Rs 40,000 crore and Rs 50,000 crore. Since Singh owns 95 per cent of the company, he should easily be one of India's richest men.

Like Donald Trump, who started his business with a million or two borrowed from his father, Singh inherited the company, and did nothing spectacular with it till he discovered Gurgaon in the 1980s. Today, the one-time village of Gurgaon is well on its way to becoming one of the best satellite cities in the country (See Gurgaon: Suburban Success).

One reason why dlf City ticks is that it marries modernity with the quaint 'walk-to-work' concept. But access to Delhi is still a problem.

"Damn Lucky Fellow"

For Singh, it seems fate conspired repeatedly to make him a real estate tycoon. Just like the Rajiv Gandhi episode, events happened in Singh's life that foreordained his success. Born into a family of successful lawyers in Bulandshehar (Uttar Pradesh) on August 15, 1931, Singh went on to join the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst (UK), and on graduating with a degree in science, was coaxed into joining Deccan Horse-the cavalry regiment of the British-Indian Army by General M.S. Wadalia. But fate had other plans.

Wadalia was so impressed with the young officer's diligence and sincerity that he recommended him as a groom for a daughter of his friend, Chaudhary Raghvendra Singh. The Chaudhary came from a landed agricultural family and was a provincial (Punjab) civil services man, and while still in his mid-thirties realised that the coming Partition would mean having to rehabilitate thousands of displaced people. That's when it became apparent to him that real estate was as good as any business to get into. Therefore, on September 18, 1946, Raghvendra Singh launched Delhi Land and Finance. But he rarely called his company that, preferring to use the abbreviated form. And whenever he was asked what DLF stood for, he'd quip: ''Damn Lucky Fellow''.

The real Damn Lucky Fellow, KP, would arrive only eight years later in 1954, when on March 6 he tied the knot with Raghvendra Singh's eldest daughter, Indira. Post partition, Raghvendra Singh had established DLF as Delhi's leading realty firm. Between 1949 and 1954, he had developed more than a dozen townships in and around Delhi, including South Extension, and Greater Kailash. When KP became part of the family, Raghvendra Singh, as much as Indira, instantly fell in love with the six-foot-two, swashbuckling Army captain, who won hearts over not only with his good looks but also impeccable manners and keen intellect.

K.P. Singh with his family at his home on Delhi's Aurangzeb Road

One reason why dlf City ticks is that it marries modernity with the quaint 'walk-to-work' concept. But access to Delhi is still a problem.

Therefore, even though Raghvendra Singh got another son-in-law in Major Shamsher Singh (who married Prem Mohini), KP was his favourite, being cast in the same mould as he. Says Bharat Ram, 84, Chairman of SRF and a friend of Raghvendra Singh: ''Raghvendra was a man of standing himself, but KP brought a new touch of aristocracy and sophistication to DLF.''

Yet, the young KP had first to cut his teeth on different DLF companies, Willard India and American Electric Universal (it made fractional motors), where he tried to keep a small and unprofitable business afloat. In 1971, he moved over to the real estate business, when it became clear that the smaller companies were headed nowhere. But those years weren't the best of times. The Delhi Development Authority Act of 1957 had made land development a state monopoly, and DLF was only allowed to work on projects either already underway or approved prior to the act. The result: DLF, which once was racing ahead, lost steam. Between 1958 and 1981, it executed only seven big projects.

DLF's record in businesses other than real estate hasn't been impressive. American Electric suffered from a lack of business and was sold to GE Motors; DLF Cement, with a 1.5 million tonne plant in Rajasthan, became a BIFR case and in 2000 was sold to Gujarat Ambuja for Rs 142 crore. The only exception seems to be DLF Power, which despite its modest Rs 100 crore turnover raked in Rs 15 crore of net profits last year. In fact, had Gurgaon not happened, chances are, you wouldn't be reading this article.

The Jack Welch Effect

Luckily for KP, two things happened in the 80s. One, Rajiv Gandhi paved the way for private sector's entry into township development. And KP came into contact with General Electric's (GE's) new CEO, Jack Welch. The how of it must be told because it symbolises something germane to KP. The story goes like this: Sometime in the early 80s, KP was introduced to Jack Welch at a New York dinner party as a real estate entrepreneur from India. Welch-who was bristling with the loss of an aircraft engine order from Air India, reportedly because a corrupt rival had bribed Indian officials-minced no words in telling KP what he thought of India.

On that bitter note, KP's acquaintance with Welch should have ended. But fate, in the form of Rajiv Gandhi, intervened again. As the new Prime Minister, Gandhi was trying to woo foreign investors, and his invitation for a dinner meet in India was spurned by Welch. The PMO, meanwhile, had learnt that KP had met Welch in New York. His services were requisitioned, and fortunately for India, KP was scheduled to make another trip to New York. Ahead of that, he investigated the Air India deal and found that GE was not the lowest-price bidder as Welch had been told by his executives. Upon meeting Welch, KP bared the truth. And as if to make up for his initial rudeness, Welch agreed to visit India and meet with Gandhi. In Welch's own words, ''After that trip, I became the champion for India'' (See Welch on Singh).

A few years ahead of changes in land development laws, KP displayed remarkable foresight and started buying pockets of land in Gurgaon, anticipating Delhi's shift further south into Haryana. But his holdings were small. The meetings with Welch had exposed him to the American CEO's 'lead or leave' philosophy-that pursuing a business was worth it only if the company could be number one or at least number two in the industry. ''DLF is what it is today because of Jack's influence on me,'' admits KP as a matter of fact.