By Suvir Saran
New Delhi [India], April 4 : On a stage lit softly with ceremony and hope, inside the Indian Institute of Culinary Arts, there stood a man whose journey began not under spotlights but beneath the sterile, humming halogen bulbs of a hotel night shift. From steward of silence to sovereign of strategy, Nakul Anand--once the night manager walking empty hallways--now filled a room with nothing but his presence.
He stood still, and the world leaned in.
This was not just another convocation. This was a homecoming, a hinge in history. As IICA celebrated two decades of bold, brave, barrier-breaking education, it was graced by the man who embodies every beat of hospitality's heart. The convocation, like a banquet carefully plated, was bursting with flavor: the spice of ambition, the sweetness of youth, the seasoning of legacy.
And at its center was the maestro himself--Nakul Anand.
Hospitality is a theatre of a thousand details. A ballet of small kindnesses, of silver cutlery aligned just so, of smiles that feel real even at 3 a.m. It is a world of invisible excellence, where success smells like freshly laundered linen and sounds like the perfect silence after a guest says, "thank you."
And no one understands that better than Nakul.
He began not with a corner office or a golden nameplate but with quietude and questions. As a night manager, he mastered the music of murmurs--the cadence of footsteps on marble, the whispers of weary travelers, the hush of housekeeping in the hallway. It was in these unscripted hours that he learned the most sacred secret of hospitality:
It is not what you serve but how you make someone feel.
This principle would become his lifelong pursuit.
Now retired from full-time leadership after a 45-year waltz with ITC, Nakul Anand is not resting--he is writing. In these books, we are not merely reading pages; we are tasting a life.
His first dish, Hors d'oeuvres, is a mezze platter of management mantras--sharp, savory, and rich with bite-sized brilliance. He quotes, he quips, he distills. Leadership lessons dressed in metaphors from nature--eagles that soar solo, wolves that thrive in packs, geese that fly in formation--each echoing the seasons of service and strength. It is not a book but a grazing table of insight. A grazing table that whispers: discipline is the bridge between dreams and done deeds.
The second course, To Serve With Love, is a love letter to the profession. Styled like a tasting menu, each chapter is a dish--from "Potage" to "Petit Fours"--seasoned with soul and garnished with guidance. Nakul weaves Maya Angelou with Maslow, Ritz-Carlton with Rabindranath Tagore. His thesis is simple: True service is not transactional. It is transformational.
And the dessert is yet to come. The Night Manager--his forthcoming autobiographical book--promises to be a souffle of sincerity, risen from years of silence. The first chapter, titled DJ to DJ, captures his arc from spinning vinyl as a disc jockey at Cellars in Delhi to donning the dinner jacket of global hospitality--a journey as improbable as it is inspiring. We will meet the man behind the linen in it. The boy behind the brand. The hotelier who, while building empires, never lost the humility to sweep his own floor if need be.
At the IICA convocation, Nakul spoke not like a CEO, but like a coach, a counselor, a comrade. His words weren't long, but they lingered. They didn't boom, but they bloomed.
"Attitude and discipline," he said. "That's all you need."
Two words. A world of wisdom. And in his effortless, almost offhand manner, he proved something crucial: You don't need to speak for long to speak for a lifetime.
In the crowd sat students with stars in their eyes and knives in their kits, ready to conquer the kitchens of the world. And as he spoke, they saw themselves--not in his titles, but in his truths. For Nakul never asked the world to admire his altitude. He invited us to understand his ascent.
There was a moment, quiet and glowing, when Nakul introduced Mr. V. S. Datta--the founder of IICA--as his "ex-boss." It was a sentence that carried not just humility, but history.
"No, no," Mr. Datta smiled, brushing it aside. "He is the legend."
In that brief exchange, the room witnessed a masterclass in respect. Two titans of hospitality. One bowing to the other. And both revealing the real architecture of greatness: grace.
Mr. V. S. Datta, a visionary who once took ITC to New York, and who now--alongside his son Arjun Datta--is building bridges for students to the U.K., U.S., and Australia, has made IICA not just an institute, but a movement. It is not a culinary school, it is a cathedral of curiosity. And by aligning itself with global certifications and the pulse of evolving industries, it has done what few dare to do--it has made education edible. Real. Relevant. Ready to serve.
Arjun, thoughtful and forward-facing, represents the future of culinary education with the grace of lineage and the clarity of innovation. Together, father and son are cooking up a new era--one where learning doesn't stop at technique but stirs in taste, temperament, and tomorrow.
Hospitality, at its best, is an orchestra. And Nakul Anand is its most gifted conductor. He sees what others ignore. He hears what others silence. In a world obsessed with metrics, he reminds us of meaning.
He has built brands not by adding glitter, but by adding gravity. He positioned ITC Hotels not just as opulent properties, but as sanctuaries of sustainability. Under his leadership, the term "Responsible Luxury" wasn't a slogan. It was a standard.
He didn't just lead departments. He led ideas.
He didn't just execute strategies. He executed philosophies.
And in every hotel lobby he touched, you didn't just check in--you woke up.
And behind every lighthouse is a hidden fire.
Timsy Anand, Nakul's wife, was not at the convocation. But her absence was only physical. Her presence--her quiet charisma, her gracious intelligence--has been a cornerstone in Nakul's life. Those who know her, know a woman who offers kindness like a cup of tea--warm, unasked for, but perfectly timed.
She is not the echo of his success, but the harmony. Not the applause, but the piano note that lingers long after the song has ended.
Together, they are a symphony. A reminder that leadership at work is incomplete without leadership at home.
Why should the global hospitality and food world revere Nakul Anand?
Because he is what happens when humility marries excellence.
Because he is proof that titles mean nothing unless earned, and everything once deserved.
Because in a world racing for relevance, he teaches us to pause, to polish, to perfect.
He is the steward of standards, the architect of experiences, the philosopher of front desks and fine linens. And as we face an industry reshaped by pandemic, digitization, and rising guest expectations, Nakul reminds us of the one thing that will never change:
People may spend from their wallets. But they buy from their hearts.
As the IICA convocation drew to a close, I looked around the room and realized something profound. We weren't just celebrating students. We were celebrating a philosophy. We were being reminded that education isn't about memorizing menus--it's about meeting moments.
And Nakul Anand had just given us one.
He showed us that being a hotelier is not a job. It is a joy. It is a calling to create calm in chaos, to find poise in pressure, to serve not just with skill, but with soul.
He reminded us that while restaurants may serve plates, real hospitality serves people.
And above all, he reminded us that the night manager--the one who walks alone when others sleep--might just be tomorrow's legend. (ANI/Suvir Saran)
Disclaimer: Suvir Saran is a Masterchef, Author, Hospitality Consultant And Educator. The views expressed in this article are his own.