DLF Golf Resorts, which operates KP's day-n-night golf course, is barely profitable at Rs 11 lakh last year. Revenues were a modest Rs 6 crore.

Beginning the mid-80s, KP adopted a bet-the-company strategy. He shifted gear and went on a land acquisition binge. In those days, DLF's resources were limited and ''we had to beg banks for a Rs 20 lakh loan''. To overcome that problem, KP returned to a strategy that Raghvendra Singh (he died on June 13, 2000-three months ahead of his ninetieth birthday) had used in building the Greater Kailash and South Extension townships. He bought land from the farmers on credit, developed it, and paid them after the property was sold. KP cashed in on his father-in-law's goodwill to the hilt.

His critics, however, say that not all was hunky dory. That KP used his clout with the local politicians to wrest land from villagers and artificially control land prices in DLF City. Still, there is little doubt that KP put his heart into Gurgaon. ''I had to virtually do all the deals on my own,'' says KP, ''because the villagers wouldn't sign unless I was directly involved.'' Considering that the average land holding of a villager was about 2 acres (DLF has since purchased 3,000 acres of land), KP spent entire days in Gurgaon villages. The real challenge, however, was to acquire contiguous tracts of land from families that in some cases had 30 signatories. Even if one member opposed selling the ancestral land, the deal wouldn't go through. To solve that problem, KP would get his men to identify a tau, or a family patriarch, who could prevail upon all the family members to sell. While a dozen patwaris did the legwork, KP had to become part of these families too. Once, he recalls, DLF even had to pay the dowry for a girl to get her husband's support.

"K.P. has a knack for getting industry-friendly policies formulated." Sushil Ansal, Chairman, Ansal Properties

One reason why DLF, KP says, does not have even one litigation from the villagers is the promptness with which principal and interest monies were paid back and, as a rule, home delivered. ''Even today, we have a lot of their money lying with us and they treat us like a mini-bank operating their current accounts,'' jokes T.C. Goyal, Managing Director of DLF. In the notoriously murky world of real estate, KP has also managed to introduce transparency in dealings-especially those of residential units.

That, however, does not mean DLF is a holy cow. It does have a maze of about 40 subsidiaries through which the group is controlled, but it is perhaps a measure of Singh's renowned networking abilities, and a low-key, but efficient public relations machinery, that there isn't a whiff of scandal surrounding DLF, and competitors are loath to bad-mouth the company and the man, even off the record. Yet, DLF does have a running feud with one of its older apartment projects, Silver Oaks, whose residents say the company is trying to charge them for common areas that they contend should be part of the apartment cost itself. Even among some corporate tenants, "maintenance deposit" that DLF charges is a sore point.

DLF Tomorrow

So far, DLF has restricted itself to Delhi. But KP's son Rajiv Singh says that DLF is looking at various options in places like Bangalore. That would be a different ballgame for DLF, though. For one, the goodwill that KP enjoys in Haryana won't be available in, say, Karnataka. Rajiv, however, says that the industry itself is professionalising, and legacy does not matter. "In a few years, we will have to take a call on whether family should continue running the business or should it be handed over to professionals," he says. In the same breath, he adds that real estate-be it India or the US- is a personality business.

How does Rajiv compare with KP? Unlike his father, Rajiv keeps a low-profile and although he has a reputation for being a quick decision maker, is perceived as rigid by some. Also, he gave BT the impression that he was impatient with KP's business philosophy, which asks DLF's executives not to violate law, but to do everything in their power to change regulations to suit DLF's own ambitions. It is not incidental, then, that superlative lobbying has always been one of DLF's core strengths.

DLF's signature Gateway Tower, which is shaped like a cigarette lighter, has become a prominent landmark in Gurgaon.

That probably flows from KP himself, who is as much at ease with a villager as with Fortune 500 CEOs like Welch. He's phenomenally networked and believes in doing everything in style. So, be it custom-making paintings for his princely home on Delhi's tony Aurangzeb Road, or building India's first modern corporate office (his own) in Delhi, or getting Bill Clinton to address Assocham's Millennium AGM in December 1999, when KP was stepping down as the association's president. Says Ansal of Ansal Properties: ''KP has a knack for getting industry-friendly policies formulated."

Now, KP is pushing for bigger changes in land rules. He wants archaic land regulation acts to be scrapped, and the industry to be provided infrastructure status, with all the fiscal incentives. He's even advocating unrestricted foreign direct investment into the sector. "We are not scared of foreign competitors. We have reached a quality level that's as good as any in the world," says KP. Even his worst critics agree to that.

When it comes to work, KP is as ruthless as his friend 'Neutron Jack'. His morning typically starts with a walk or a session on the golf course. He's in his office by 11:00 am or so, and works as late as needed. To his managers, KP is a terror. He is referred to as the 'one-minute' man-managers have to state their case clearly and succinctly in a minute. Depending on the merit of the issue, he will either dive straight into the subject or trash it.

As for the management, it's a small core team that runs DLF, including, beside him, Rajiv (as Vice Chairman), Managing Director Goyal, Director (Projects) J.K. Chandra, and K. Swarup, Vice President (Legal). Most of these men have been with KP for years, and often had humble origins. Goyal, for example, was a manager (finance) when KP picked him up in 1981. Today, he looks after day-to-day operations of DLF, and drives around in a Mercedes-Benz E-230, identical to what KP and his son have. But Rajiv is obviously the heir to the DLF empire.

Despite his stiff exterior, KP has a soft core. In fact, when his wife met with an accident last year, his friends discovered a new side to him-that of a devoted husband. The family had gone to Musoorie for the New Year's eve and was flying back to Delhi when one of their two helicopters crashed, killing all the five occupants, except KP's wife Indira. KP was supposed to have sat in the front seat of the helicopter, but one of his Army buddies Pradeep Mehra bullied him out of it. And KP came with Kamal Nath in a chopper that followed.

Indira was first taken to Ashlok Hospital and then to Escorts Heart Institute, where KP literally camped in friend Rajan Nanda's office and let Rajiv and Goyal run the show. (''How many CEOs will give up business for their wives?'' asks Thapar of BILT.) To ensure that his wife got the best care he even read up relevant medical literature, and by the seventh month of treatment at the Hospital for Special Surgeries in New York, American doctors jokingly added MD to his name. Recalls Dr Naresh Trehan, a friend and Executive Director of Escorts Heart Institute: ''I am reasonably proud of my administrative skills, but it was amazing how much one could learn watching KP marshal the medical team around. He was like the captain of a ship.''

Indira, today, is miraculously back on her feet. ''I am here today because of him and his efforts,'' says she. Agrees Paolo Fresco, Chairman of Fiat, who met KP 17 years ago and helped with Indira's medical treatment: ''KP's strength and courage have been an inspiration to all who know him.'' And while these days KP is spending less time at work and more with his wife at home, he has no plans of giving up what he truly loves: developing not land, but cities.

WELCH ON SINGH An extract from Jack Welch's autobiography, Jack: Straight From The Gut.

"The efforts of KP and his friends worked. They showed us an India and a people that we loved." Jack Welch, former CEO, General Electric K.P. Singh was a true ambassador for India. Tall, natty, and aristocratic, he was a perfect gentleman. He lined up four days of wall-to-wall business meetings and evening celebrations for us. After a day of meetings with business and government leaders in Delhi, including Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, a night had been arranged we would never forget. He had everyone who was anyone at his compound for a huge party. Two bands played music, while hundreds of people mingled among pools filled with flower petals and tables of food from every country around the world. What a welcome! We continued our business meetings for two more days. During the trip, we were scheduled to select a high-technology partner who could help develop the lower-end, low-cost products in medical systems. Chuck Pieper, who had initiated the earlier Japanese deal with Fanuc, had been promoted to head GE medical systems in Asia. He had narrowed it down to two finalists, whom he brought in to see us at a hotel in Delhi. Both were successful Indian entrepreneurs: One was flamboyant, while the other was reserved. Paolo (Fresco) and I loved the first presentation from the more flamboyant guy, who excitedly presented his plans. The quiet one, Azim Premji, came in after him and gave a thoughtful presentation as to why his company, Wipro, was the right partner for GE. Chuck was convinced that Premji was the one for us. KP, who sat in on all our meetings, was neutral. He thought both entrepreneurs were terrific. After we left, Chuck made his case for Wipro in writing. Paolo and I agreed to back off and go with Chuck's 50:50 joint venture with Premji. The medical venture flourished, and Wipro went on to dramatically expand its software capabilities, becoming the poster child of India's high-tech industry. Premji was worth billions, becoming one of the world's richest businessmen. For our final day in India, KP had arranged visit to the Taj Mahal. The night before we flew to Jaipur. If we thought the first night in India was special, we hadn't seen anything yet. KP was about to outdo himself. We were greeted at the hotel, the former palace of the Maharaja, by colourful riders on elephants and horses. The entire front lawn of the hotel was done up in fresh flowers in the form of the GE logo. That evening in Jaipur, the Maharaja hosted a dinner at his palace. After dinner, just about the largest fireworks display I ever saw was put on in our honour. We walked up long, winding passageways to the roof, where we sat on huge pillows and beautiful old carpets. This was ''pinch me'' stuff. This was literally the ''royal treatment''. They really wanted GE to love and invest in India-and were pulling out all the stops. The next day, I was struck by the contrasts. Animals filled the dirt streets as our car wended its way to the Taj Mahal. The Taj exceeded my expectations in every way. It was a magnificent structure, glistening in the sun, which gave it an almost pinkish tint. Behind this beautiful creation, sitting across the river, was an enormous satellite communications dish-a picture of the old and the new in one glimpse. The efforts of KP and his friends worked. They showed us an India and a people that we loved. We saw all kinds of opportunities there. After that trip, I became the champion for India.