The Spirit of Brotherhood: This vodka tastes of survival and second chances

SOME SPIRITS arrive quietly; TIGERFIRE does not. It enters like a story— smouldering, cinematic, steeped in struggle and triumph. What I tasted at the Four Seasons Mumbai in November, on the rocks with the faintest flirt of lime, was more than vodka. It was history in a glass. Heritage in a bottle. Heart distilled into fire.

Because TIGERFIRE is not just a liquor. It is loyalty liquefied. It is brotherhood bottled.

At its centre stand two men whose lives have never been small: Paresh Ghelani and Sanjay Dutt—bound not by blood, but by a bond deeper than DNA. Beside them is Badal Moradia, Paresh’s nephew, now based in India and carrying this brand into the future with the earnestness only the young and brave possess.

Let us begin with Paresh Ghelani—serial entrepreneur, philanthropist, one of the youngest Indian billionaires in the United States. Paresh is the son of immigrant grit, raised in a 500 sq ft home in Chicago, packed with children, dreams, and determination. From that tiny room came a man who now lives on the famed Bird Street in Los Angeles—in a home that once belonged to George Harrison of the Beatles, perched over the city like a crown.

The irony is beautiful: A man who grew up with little now lives above the city of spectacle—not because luck kissed him, but because labour carried him.

And then there is Sanjay Dutt—Sanju Baba— India’s phoenix. Adored, judged, misunderstood, mythologised—yet always rising. His tragedies were televised, his trials public, his triumphs hard-won. But what defines him is tenacity—the fire that refuses to dim, the resilience that makes even destiny pause.

TIGERFIRE captures this exact spirit: The burn of belief, the heat of hunger, the blaze of becoming, and the tenacity of never giving in.

The bottle itself feels like a character in the Dutt–Ghelani saga. Its long neck—because Sanjay grips bottles by the neck. Mandala motifs swirling upward like prayers carved into glass. And the eyes—his eyes—the eyes of the tiger staring through the frosted silhouette with defiance and depth.

And then comes Badal Moradia, young, bright, grounded. A next-generation torchbearer building TIGERFIRE from the ground up. Watching him speak is watching pride in motion. He is not selling a product. He is carrying a lineage. He is honouring a friendship that has survived fame, failure, fire and fate.

Now, the vodka: Smooth, but with something to say. Clean, but with character. Elegant, but with edge. And now, certified: 95 Points. Gold medal. Exceptional. The Beverage Testing Institute’s 2025 award places TIGERFIRE among the world’s finest artisanal vodkas—a rare validation of purity, craft and care.

It is vodka with a narrative arc—starting crisp, blooming warm, finishing with confidence. You taste Paresh’s discipline, Sanjay’s daring, Badal’s devotion. You taste courage that travelled continents. You taste survival and the sweetness of second chances.

Vodka rarely has personality. This one has presence.

TIGERFIRE is the child of two lives carved through crisis and raised through conviction. It is a tribute to the immigrant father who worked every shift he could. It is a salute to the superstar who fell, fractured and fought back. It is the handshake between pain and possibility—and now, a gold-medal affirmation of excellence.

This spirit will warm hearts, stir stories, ignite palates and set a new standard for Indian-made global spirits. But more than that, it will remind anyone holding the glass of a singular truth: When you stand up after you’ve been knocked down—when you choose endurance over ego, belief over bravado—you become fire.

This is not just vodka. It is victory. It is vulnerability turned into valour. It is proof that legends aren’t born; they are built. And sometimes—just sometimes—you can taste that.