He Gave Everything Away. And Then He Left. The life, the sky, the loss — and the unfinished story of Dr. Vijaypat Singhania
India lost one of its most remarkable men on the evening of Saturday, March 28, 2026. Dr. Vijaypat Kailashpat Singhania— former Chairman of the Raymond Group, Honorary Air Commodore of the Indian Air Force, Padma Bhushan recipient, world record-holder, photographer, philanthropist, professor and author— passed away peacefully at his residence in Mumbai. He was 87.
His son, Gautam Singhania, announced the news on X with just three words: “RIP. Om Shanti.” Three words for a man who lived at least ten lives in one.
The Man Behind Raymond “The Complete Man”
There is a certain poetry in the fact that the iconic tagline The Complete Man — the phrase that defined Raymond for a generation of Indians— was born under Vijaypat Singhania‘s watch. Because in every real sense, that phrase was him.
He took charge of Raymond in 1980, inheriting not just a textile business but the weight of a family name that had been tied to Indian industry for decades. What he did with that inheritance is what separates legacy-holders from legacy-builders. Under his two decades of leadership, Raymond didn’t just grow— it became a feeling, a Sunday-morning ritual of fabric and aspiration, a brand that middle-class India associated with dignity and occasion.
Born on October 4, 1938, into the illustrious Singhania family— custodians of one of India’s oldest business houses— Vijaypat could have coasted. He didn’t. Before taking the helm at Raymond, he pushed the company into synthetic fabrics, denim, engineering, steel, and cement. He modernized production when modernization was still a risky gamble. He built brand equity when most Indian industrialists didn’t even know what the phrase meant.
When he stepped down in 2000, he handed the reins entirely to his son Gautam— and transferred his complete 37% stake along with it. He gave everything, keeping nothing for himself. That act, in hindsight, would become the most discussed chapter of his later life.
The Sky Was Never a Metaphor for Him — It Was a Destination
Here is what made Vijaypat Singhania extraordinary beyond the boardroom: he didn’t just inspire people with words. He went up.
His aviation heroes were Howard Hughes and JRD Tata— two men who believed the sky was not a limit but an address. Singhania took that belief literally. He logged over 5,000 hours of flying time. In 1988, he flew solo in a microlight aircraft from London’s Biggin Hill Airport all the way to Safdarjung Airport in New Delhi— 23 days, through weather and doubt and sheer will — setting a speed-over-time endurance record. That small aircraft was later displayed at the Nehru Science Centre in Mumbai, a quiet monument to an outsized adventure.
In 1994, he and American co-pilot Daniel Brown won a gold medal at the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale‘s around-the-world air race, flying a Cessna Conquest. The Indian Air Force, in recognition of his extraordinary contribution to aviation, conferred upon him the rank of Honorary Air Commodore that same year.
And then, in November 2005, at the age of 67 — when most men his age were slowing down — he climbed into a hot air balloon at the Mahalaxmi Racecourse in Mumbai and ascended to approximately 69,000 feet. A world record. The Government of India later awarded him the Tenzing Norgay National Adventure Award for Lifetime Achievement. He wrote about his flying years in the 2005 book An Angel in the Cockpit: The True Story of a Death-Defying Flight Across 5000 Miles of Land and Sea. It reads exactly the way the title promises.
He also briefly served as the Sheriff of Mumbai in 2005 — because apparently, leading a billion-dollar company and breaking aviation records still left room on the calendar.
A Life of Giving, and a Chapter of Pain
The honours were many. The Padma Bhushan in 2006. An honorary PhD from the London Institute of Technology & Research. The chairmanship of the Governing Council of IIM Ahmedabad from 2007 to 2012. A professorship. A camera always within reach.
But no honest account of his life can skip over the years of estrangement from his son.
After transferring his entire stake in Raymond to Gautam, Vijaypat alleged he was denied the luxury apartment he had been promised. He said he was left with nothing — a man who had built an empire, given it away in full, and found himself on the outside. He had once said publicly: “I gave him everything. By all means, give what you want to. I’m only saying, give it after you’re gone. Don’t give it in your lifetime because you may have to pay a very heavy price.”
The legal disputes that followed were painful, public, and uncomfortably relatable for anyone who has watched a family business navigate generational change. Eventually, the issues were reportedly settled. But the weight of those years never fully left him.
He wrote about it — or around it — in his memoir An Incomplete Life. The title itself speaks with the kind of honesty that most men spend their whole lives avoiding.
What He Leaves Behind
He is survived by his wife, Ashadevi Singhania, and his three children— Madhupati Singhania, Shephali Ruia, and Gautam Singhania.
His family’s announcement quoted the Bhagavad Gita: Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana— do your duty, without attachment to the fruits. It is a verse about action without expectation of reward. Perhaps no line could more fittingly describe the man who flew across continents alone, built a national brand from scratch, gave away everything he owned, and still found a way to keep going.
India’s business world today is full of founders who talk about legacy. Vijaypat Singhania actually lived one— the complicated, bruised, sky-high, human kind.
The funeral assembly will be held at 1:30 pm today, Sunday, March 29, at Haveli, L.D. Ruparel Marg, Mumbai. Cremation is at Chandanwadi at 3:00 pm.
Aum Shanti.