Berger Paints India Ltd.

Berger House is at 129, and that’s where we spend our days. It’s an old name, but the building feels like a regular workplace once you’re inside. There is always a faint smell of something industrial—maybe not paint exactly, but something close to it. We have a lot of history here, but we don't really talk about it much during the day. We are too busy checking orders and making sure the logistics are moving. The desks are lined up, and there’s a lot of chatter about colors and batches. It’s not all pretty, though. There is plenty of paperwork and boring meetings about supply chains. We have a canteen where the tea is actually pretty good, which is a blessing on Monday mornings. People think working for a big name means it’s all polished, but we still deal with jammed printers and slow elevators like everyone else. The neighborhood around 129 is familiar to us now. We see the same faces every morning at the gate. It’s a steady job and we try to do it right. We don't have a mission statement hanging on every wall; we just have calendars with deadlines marked in red. It’s about getting the right cans to the right places. It’s simple, even if the scale of it is quite large. We just keep our heads down and work. The security guard at the front has been there as long as the building, I think. He knows everyone's name here. It makes coming in feel more personal.