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September 2, 1997
QUOTE MARTIAL
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Life in the twilight zone
They begged and they pleaded with Gulshan. "You've ruined the market. No matter how hard we try to sell, you undercut us. We owe huge amounts to lenders. For God's sake, ease up on your business so that we can carry on with ours," they told Gulshan. "Maine darshan kar liya. Ab nahin karoonga (I've seen the light. I won't do it any more)," promised Gulshan. But they knew he was lying. Everybody present there then gave Gulshan Kumar a gold coin to seal the bargain. The gift was both a gesture of respect and an expiation of guilt. It was an acknowledgement of Gulshan's gurudom. But the dons of the music mafia knew Gulshan was going to come to a sticky end and thought they had warned him.
Gulshan Kumar's rise in the music world and his death is a story of avarice, greed and cunning and the clash of two mafias -- one represented by Gulshan Kumar and the other by those whom he damaged. Much is made of Gulshan Kumar's managerial abilities: that he started the music duplicating industry and through aggressive marketing, managed to turn T-Series into a Rs 3 billion empire in 10 years. In fact, so impressed was former finance minister V P Singh by Gulshan that when music industry players went to plead with the finance minister to punish Gulshan Kumar for violating copyright laws and pirating music, V P Singh was dismissive. "Don't come to me with your hard luck stories. You've no marketing strategies so you haven't discovered the marketplace. Gulshan has. And you want me to punish him for his entrepreneurial ability?" His visitors were speechless. They left North Block, wondering bitterly at the finance minister's naivete. What Gulshan Kumar did was simple -- and everyone knew it had nothing to do with management. He began in 1979-80 by making all his money from piracy. In those days, His Master's Voice, an established player in the market, was the biggest sufferer, followed by Polydor. For here was this man, traversing the catalogues of both HMV and Polydor with impunity, picking up music from both, compiling them in one cassette and selling it as a T-series recording. The only capital expense he had was the cost of the cassette -- Rs 7 -- and the cost of duplicating. This cassette was retailed at about Rs 25. Because HMV and Polydor were law-abiding outfits run by professional managers they were required to pay, in addition to royalities, an excise duty of 15 per cent on every cassette. Gulshan Kumar could not have paid excise duty -- for that he would have had to admit that he was running an illegal operation. So he simply passed the 15 per cent benefit on to the customer. And when HMV had already paid royalties, why should he? HMV and other players were also handicapped by the legal definition of copyright violation -- piracy was not a cognisable offence, so you had to prove cassettes were being pirated before getting a warrant of arrest. This was well nigh impossible. So often HMV's managers felt like birds beating their wings in a cage. The courts were tardy in giving relief, the police were often informers, tipping Gulshan off about an excise raid. So he went from strength to strength, producing cassettes minus the music cost. Kind courtesy: Sunday magazine 'Gulshan Kumar just couldn't help himself. He had to steal'
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