Two things will see you through almost any situation in life: smooth-talking, and the ability to spend money when it isn't required.

Krishnan Nair has both in ample measure, which is why he was able to quit his commission in the army and establish a textile empire through sheer chutzpah.

When most would have despaired about a consignment's rejection and certain financial ruin, Nair moved in from the $9 Vanderbilt to the $29 Waldorf Astoria in New York to negotiate with his buyer on equal terms, generously tipping the staff $5 in the wake of his journey to his suite so there would be a buzz about the Indian baron staying in the upscale Tower wing.

Then, he sold the fabric as "guaranteed to bleed". The year was 1957, and the world was open to exotic ideas. Nair's 'Bleeding Madras' sold itself out almost before it reached the stores.

Forty-six years later, I wonder if Nair has lost his touch. He's 84 now, and responding to my call at his suite at Delhi's Inter Continental. He managed to lock himself out, so we have to summon security from the innards of the hotel to be let in. It is an embarrassing experience.

Nair remains unfazed, though. In due course, he lets down enough of his army reserve (he is Capt C P Krishnan Nair, to give him his full name) to add dollops of chilli sauce to his already hot prawns in green curry, and attack his fish cake and green papaya salad with his fingers at the hotel's Blue Elephant restaurant.

More importantly, as we leave, his fingers dip into his jacket to snap up Rs 500 notes that are distributed with a largesse among the staff "and that girl who is singing". Nair is still tipping his way to fame.

He's also a prolific name-dropper. Maybe it's something he feels entitled to. Born in Kerala to a humble background, he's managed to steer his life through smart glib talk and efficient delivery schedules to head a Rs 450- crore (Rs 4.5 billion) conglomerate, the Leela Group.

Leela Lace was his stepping stone to fortune, Leelaventure Hotels his calling card to the world of glamour. His role model is clearly the late Rai Bahadur M S Oberoi, founder of the Oberoi Group of Hotels, with whom he is wont to both compare himself, and to whose son he would like to offer advise based on his own experience.

He also believes in reciprocity: "Lalit Suri stays with me when he is in Mumbai," says Nair of the managing director of Bharat Hotels, "which is why I'm staying at his hotel in Delhi."

Over dinner, listening to him reminisce, it's easy to mistake Nair for a kindly patriarch, but he has been known to be both autocratic and shrewd.

For now, he's managed to sign a lucrative agreement for The Leela Palace in Goa with Aman Resorts that will not affect his present turnover, since the marketing commission is based on sales over and above his current annual bookings.

The Four Seasons group (now reportedly in talks with the Oberoi Group) had not been as lucky. Even before the agreement between the two companies had been inked, the Four Seasons management found itself packing its bags in the face of Leela Nair's wrath for daring to cross her path. It was clearly a duel of Ownership vs Management.

"Biki Oberoi would do well to follow our business model," suggests Nair.

As chairman of the Leela Group, Nair's involvement with hotels remains passionate -- it is his arena for gathering the rich and the famous under one roof.

The Leela in Mumbai was an opulent project when it was commissioned, but in both Goa and Bangalore, he has exceeded the wildest expectations, taking his inspiration from the kingdom of Vijayanagar for the former, and styling the latter on the palace in Mysore.

"The Leela Palace, Bangalore, is my dream realisation, the epitome of luxury," he says triumphantly. "Even though Goa is closest to my heart, Bangalore is the superior product.

"No one can possibly compete with us on its scale. My instructions were that nothing should be found wanting there," says Nair of the two million sq ft of architectural spaces that define his concept of unstinted luxury. The richness of its over-the-top, Rs 450-crore (Rs 4.5 billion) design includes 270 rooms and suites, a huge shopping block and a spa.

Though designed as a leisure retreat, at its heart is a business hotel that won kudos when it was selected by Forbes as one of the eight best business hotels in the world.

More recently, at ITB, Berlin, it was awarded the Ultimate Service Award for the region of the Indian subcontinent/Indian Ocean region, one among nine hotels worldwide to achieve the honour. "It's very, very prestigious," Nair basks in its glow.

He's true to his Kerala roots as far as his food habits are concerned -- Thai cuisine being only a mild aberration -- so why hasn't he built a Leela in this tourism-progressive state? "I intend to be there," he smiles back, "in Baikal, with a monumental resort.

"Oberoi has a place there, Taj has a place there, and I have a place there. It's considered one of the best five destinations in the world by the World Tourism Organization, and has a bay where you can walk half a mile, one mile, into the sea."

While Baikal looks at least five years away, in the other major tourism state, Rajasthan, an Indonesian architect has been engaged for a 75-suite hotel by the lake.

"It can be built in a year's time," says Nair, swallowing his dessert of steamed rice cake and banana, while I discreetly hide mine under the plantain leaves in which they were wrapped. Thai desserts call for an acquired taste, or maybe they're akin to what Keralites eat.

In Delhi, where Nair burnt his fingers with a hotel project at Andrews Ganj for which Rs 160 crore (Rs 1.6 billion) was paid but the land not released, arbitration resulted in a third of the money being returned, while the rest of it is pending.

But with that dream having soured, he's hoping to get in on another project, the divested Lodhi Hotel, in partnership with Aman Resorts, though the deal is still speculative.

After two glasses of red wine, Nair is in an expansive mood. "When I was young, it was my dream to help millions of people." With those Rs 500 notes slipping fast from his fingers, he's well on his way to achieving that dubious fame.