Namaste,

I know that at a CEF Meet, I am expected to speak in English.
But today, I will take the liberty of using Marathi sentences whenever the moment demands it—because some emotions refuse to be translated.

Let me take you back to August 1992.

Ajay and I were both working at SKF, on the second shift. It was a Wednesday. Ajay was in assembly; I was in grinding. Like every other day, we went together for dinner. That evening, something felt different.

For the first time, Ajay asked me if I could help serve his food. He said he was feeling unusually weak. I still remember him saying that he had swum heavily that morning and thought that might be the reason.

I happily served him dinner.

I waited to say goodbye to him at the end of the shift—but later I learned that he had left early. At the time, it seemed normal. In hindsight, it was anything but.

Thursday was a holiday.
On Friday morning, when I reached the plant, I heard something that stopped me cold—Ajay had been admitted to Jahangir Hospital with a serious illness. None of us knew what it was. We only knew one thing: it was serious.

After finishing my first shift, I rushed to the hospital.

Ajay was lying on the bed.

He is one of the very few people who calls me “Raja.”
Before I could ask a single question, he looked at me and said—

"अरे, राजा ये. माझ्या हातातील आणि पायातील पूर्ण शक्ती गेली आहे. पण काळजी करू नको दोन अवयव माझे अजूनही शाबूत आहेत ज्याचा मी प्रत्येक मिनिटाला वापर करतो, म्हणजे माझं तोंड आणि मेंदू"

—and he laughed.

We both did.
Him—effortlessly.
Me—forcefully.

Because beside him sat Meenal, his wife, silently holding her worry.

The diagnosis was Guillain-Barré Syndrome—rare, almost unheard of in those days, with frighteningly low survival rates. None of us fully grasped the medical complexity, but we all understood one thing: this was a fight for life.

As we were speaking softly, a nurse walked in and said—

"चला, तुम्हाला शॉक द्यायचे आहेत."

Ajay kept smiling.

Slightly irritated, the nurse asked—

"तुला शॉक ऐकून टेन्शन येत नाही का?"

And Ajay replied—

"सकाळपासून ३५००० चे चार इंजेक्शन देऊन तुम्ही मला इतके मोठे शॉक दिले आहेत की ४१५ व्हॉल्ट्स च्या शॉकचं काही टेन्शन येत नाही."

That was Ajay—
humour intact, spirit unbroken.

Against all odds, Ajay defeated GBS. I still remember Dr. Divte saying that while medicines mattered, it was Ajay’s positive attitude that made the real difference.

And from that moment on, his life gathered momentum.

His career at SKF didn’t just progress—it accelerated.

After shouldering multiple responsibilities, a turning point came when Ajay was assigned SKF Ahmedabad—a unit fighting for survival. Losses, legal battles, local challenges—it was a perfect storm.

Ajay didn’t just stabilize the unit.
He transformed it.

That transformation caught the attention of SKF’s global leadership.

He was selected for the Global Leadership Program, and then came a moment that surprised everyone—Ajay was handpicked to lead SKF Sweden.

The first non-Swedish person to lead the global headquarters.

I’m sure Ajay has many stories and accolades from his time in Sweden, which he will share himself. But let me tell you about one moment that gave me goosebumps.

I once watched a video of Ajay addressing a jam-packed football stadium—over 35,000 people—during a tournament sponsored by SKF. I can say with confidence that none of my friends has ever addressed a stadium of that scale.

SKF was my first job.
It was Ajay’s first job too.

Today, many of my SKF colleagues are also my business partners. Ajay chose to stay with SKF, yet our friendship continued to grow. Whenever I was in the Chinchwad area, I made it a point to stop by SKF. We met several times in Ahmedabad as well.

Ajay has that rare magnetic quality—you don’t just know him, you connect with him. That’s why, when it came to connecting two beautiful journeys—MG–RG with Ajay and Meenal—I stepped in without hesitation.

Despite his global responsibilities, Ajay always finds time during his India visits to reconnect—often over a quiet drink and warm conversation.

So today, it gives me immense pride to present to you—

A man who began as a trainee engineer
Who rose to become Managing Director of the parent company
Who holds no formal management degree, yet leads a workforce of over 50,000 people
A leader with courage
A friend with warmth
A wit that disarms
And a spirit that inspires

Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming Mr. Ajay Naik.