07-07-2025
UAE: Dr Ram Buxani's grand-daughter reflects on his lifetime of legacy
Dr Ram Buxani. You may know him as an entrepreneur, a visionary, a chairman, a founder, or a humanitarian. But to me, he held one more title — the one dearest to my heart: my grandfather. My Nana.
Today, July 8, 2025, marks one year since Nana passed away. And it feels only natural to remember him in the way he would have loved most — through words. Writing was one of our shared hobbies. Thus, as I sit down to write this, I imagine him beside me, green pen in hand, editing with a smile.
Back when weekends in Dubai were Friday and Saturday, our Friday afternoons brought a unique comfort. My elder sister, Jaahnvi, and I would visit Nana and Nani's house, and we would always find him at his desk, deeply focused, writing something with his signature green pen. He would warmly explain what he was working on —whether it was a speech, a column, or simply his reflections — and we would sit beside him, listening with admiration. His words always carried depth. His ideas always invited thought.
Nana was a storyteller, a documentarian of time. From his celebrated autobiography, Taking the High Road, to countless columns and speeches, he chronicled Dubai's journey — not just with facts, but with heart. He gave voice to a city, to a generation.
One day, I looked at him and said, 'Nana, I want to be an author just like you!' Without hesitation, he replied, 'Then you must write, Himaku.' That is who he was. A man who uplifted others — always empowering us seven Buxani grandchildren in unique ways.
With his encouragement, I published my first children's book, Prized Words, in 2018. The following year, we attended the Emirates Literature Festival together — he with his book, me with mine. We were introduced as the 'grandfather-granddaughter literary duo'. And truly, no award has ever felt more special than that shared smile between us. Since his passing, I have realised something important: you never truly lose a grandparent. Their words, their values, their love — they shape who you become. To honour his legacy, I want to share three guiding principles he taught me — lessons I carry with me every day, captured in the three letters of his name:
R - Resilience
'Life does not provide warranties and guarantees. It only provides possibilities and opportunities — don't miss them.'
At 18, Nana left India and boarded a boat to Dubai despite not knowing how to swim and fearing the open sea. All he carried were five rupees, determination, and a quiet faith that something greater lay ahead.
Dubai back then was far from the skyline we know today. There were no airports, no electricity, no air conditioning — only kerosene lamps to light the evenings and naan from the Iranian shop to share among friends. But Nana never saw what was missing. He only saw what was possible.
To me, resilience was never just a word. It was the way Nana walked, spoke, worked, and lived. Always forward. Always with dignity.
A – Always use your imagination
'Logic can take you from A to Z. But beyond that, you need imagination.'
When Nana was 21, he asked his employer if he could step beyond his usual role and bring in clients himself. His seniors discouraged him, but Nana had a vision. One quiet afternoon, when the office was empty, he picked up the samples, took an abra across the creek, and made his first sale: $125.
This moment is reflective of the way Nana approached life: think
beyond, trust yourself, and try. When I see ITL Cosmos, I don't just see a company — I see where Nana's imagination turned into reality.
M – Make, Don't Mirror
'One golden rule I have always followed is this: don't compete or copy, create.'
In the 1970s, as Dubai's economy began to boom, most companies held fast to familiar territory. For ITL, that was textiles. Nana's leadership was never about following what others were doing. However, it was about sensing what came next.
While others stayed the course, he helped Cosmos pivot into electronics. It wasn't the easy choice. It wasn't the obvious one. But it was true to him — to his belief in creating, not as he always said: 'If you change with the change, you succeed. If you cause the change, then you lead.'
That spells RAM.
My Nana's journey in Dubai began at 18, with a boat, five rupees, and a dream under a drizzling sky. I was 18 when he passed away.
At my high school graduation, he squeezed my hand, smiled, and said, 'The world is yours, Himaku.' It felt like he stayed just long enough to see me take my first step into adulthood. Now, as I step into adult life, I carry his voice, his values, and his quiet strength with me — always. I love you, Nana.
