Slice of Work #16 — Of Career Setbacks and Renewal

This was a long time ago. Ram a serious professional had a cushy job, a premier club membership and life was good. But he was not happy. He thought he “lived in a land of two shadows". His simple wife was a happy-go-lucky woman to whom a career undulates with time.

One day his wife asked him to quit. No point being unhappy with life. The money and the perks could wait. Ram quit and spent much of his time asking what he was good at and what he loved most. Took feedback of friends and colleagues. He became a lot calmer and now his children started to side up to him to speak. He took a lot of feedback from friends and colleagues and listed out what he did not enjoy doing.

He learnt a lot about himself and including his dark side. He could now look at himself in the mirror and feel fine. A could of months later he found a good job, not all that high paying and the brand was not well known either. He did not care. He liked the person who interviewed him – Yes, such things happen!

There was no looking back. He could laugh at silly jokes and not stress about work. He had found his edge and his happiness. And the firm loved him too. All owed to a simple woman who asked a simple question of his ask of life – his wife.

Slice of Work #15 — Culture Drives Policy, Not the Other Way

This was a fine mid-sized culturally vibrant dream company to work for. It had a large heart. It attracted good talent and much of it was owed to its CEO, a very fine man who was both genuine and charismatic.

The HR head met a candidate, Nirmala, who had a career break. She had a great background and experience. Just when the job offer was going to be made, Nirmala said that she wanted flexibility – work from home, work part-time and work at will, at least for a year plus to look after her child. The HR head heard himself agreeing to each of these although they were not part of the policy.

Convincing his colleagues and his boss was easy, for the culture was supportive. All this was almost 20 years ago when such things were really unheard of. Nirmala turned out to be one of the best a really a refreshing professional who brought in high energy to the place.

The HR Head moved on. He had long forgotten about what he had done. Nirmala did not. Nirmala recounted this positive experience at a National event where she spoke passionately about what this meant to her.

Her story was impactful—the ability to do things for others is within us and it is for us to bend the rules. People of influence can support people who are great talent. Flexibility starts with us being flexible in our mind.

Nirmala’s story reminded me that it is not a policy that drives culture, but culture that drives policy … and happiness at work. And someone who can take a lead on it.  

Slice of Work #13 — Driving a Lesson About Work

I started my career as a Management Trainee at a well-known MNC. It was at a factory manufacturing explosives for the mining industry. Our nearest government district head-quarters were some 60 miles away. I used to be sent to such places to ‘chase’ some matters in the labor department that needed follow ups. It was not a great job, and I used to be really upset that I was asked to do these ‘silly’ jobs. I could never understand why they needed someone from the finest B School. As you can see I had a heavy chip on my shoulder.

It was one such day that my manager called me and asked me to go to Giridih district to follow up on a file on labour. Although I protested, he would not hear of it and told me that a car would arrive at 7 AM the next day. It was a two-hour ride to the town. The following day I was getting ready to leave and seething at the thought of the ‘silly’ job that I was to do. I came down to the car that was to take me to town and noticed something strange.

The driver Ram Lal, was burnishing the black ‘Ambassador’ car to a fine shine. I walked up to him and asked him what he was up to. He said that he was polishing the car with wax. I told him that the dusty road would ruin the shine anyway, and that it was pointless. He said, “Sir, I love my car and I love my job. There is no work that is small and while the dust may yet settle back, if I did not polish the car it would look shabby and reflect poorly on me.” Ram Lal was no ordinary driver.

I got into the car and was about to slam the door when he rushed and gently closed the car with a click. “I did not want the door to be slammed shut,” he said. He started the car and shifted gears in a gentle way. He kept talking along the drive and about how work was divine and that he was fortunate to be working. I had reached Giridih in 90 minutes, and it was one of the best of rides despite the bad roads. I complimented him on that. He said that a car should be driven with the least bumpiness as if a child were in it.

I walked to the labour office. I met the officer with a smile on my face and confidently so as I had got all the simple jobs done with perfection. The work got done in a jiffy. We drove back and I was lost in an even more absorbing conversation with him. He taught me the value of respecting work and doing it with devotion. On Teachers Day, I thought of Ram Lal, my greatest teacher, to thank him and sincerely, so for driving the greatest lesson of work in me. And early in my career.

Slice of Work #15 — What Companies Look for in People in Interviews?

There are many schools of thought of as to what is the best way to interview a candidate. People conduct several tests that get them to the final rounds. Stress interviews, case studies, the works are thrown at candidates and finally when they are on the job, one discovers that there is a gap. The candidates have their own expectations and finally it ends in a separation, and often times it is the candidate quitting the company not the firm asking the person to leave.

So, what is the magic sauce of finding the right person? Let me start by saying that there are no perfect candidates. Only ones who come close. Beyond the usual list of education, experience and a suitable fit for the role, I look for a number of behavioral traits as well. And, this starts with a good culture fit.

I look for people with good energy and drive. Some people are the extroverts and some are introverts and both have energy and drive that one has to discover in the interview process. Personally I have a bias for people with a firm hand shake. It makes me more comfortable knowing the person is confident. I don’t hold it against them if they don’t. I ask for their war stories of their of success in the past two years of something that they have done that beat all odds and made them succeed and feel on top of the world. I believe that it gets the best out of an applicant.

Through their narrative, I discover their inner drive and their sense of achievement orientation. I also look for good communication skills. Are they articulate and clear? Not just a lot of English, but simplicity in getting to the point. Something they say that gets me glued, the effectiveness. Through gentle questioning, I gauge their sense of decision making and their focus on execution, as that is most important in our world. Through their enunciation, I look for the sense of teaming and their commitment to the task on hand. I also look at the body language of the candidates and notice the way they sit and speak, to check if they are comfortable in the interview. And do they carry conviction?

I believe that interviewers need to be far more prepared than the applicants. Many times I set aside some time before I meet people as I want to be mindful of the situation. It is as important for me as for the applicant. Does not happen all the time, but I sincerely try. Years ago, when I was interviewed I recollect a boss of mine who interviewed me took great care of all of us who came to his firm. He was so courteous that we all wondered if he was just a handyman about the place. Came to know later he was the biggest boss around. It taught us all a lesson.

Of the best candidates I have selected in my career, I have found that apart from all the above, I have looked for passion. And this is a quality that has never failed me. I have always stood by my decision to hire a candidate who had this element, I have found that they shine in organizations, each time, every time. Lastly, I look for someone who apart from the above has a sense of humor and is positive. Now, as you can see, it is a lot to ask of someone to watch out for in candidates!

Slice of Life #11 — Lighting a Lamp of Hope

When trouble comes it descends in a tsunami, perhaps. She was a sprightly girl once. Working in a fine firm with fine friends Got got married to someone in Singapore and had to leave her job. Not a happy marriage I guess for he deserted her. Not the one to give up so easily she found a job in a good MNC. Life moved on till one day she fainted on the stairs in the subway. And rushed to the hospital in Singapore. Was diagnosed with cancer. Fast forward, she was moved to the Tata Cancer Hospital at Mumbai.

Her close friend Vinay from her previous company came to know of this.He called her ex- boss and they both decided to visit her.. The boss had stuffed an envelope in his shirt pocket. He was not the hospital going chap and was scared of such places. Vinay was far stronger. They reached the place and met the girl’s parents. Emotions were high and eyes were teary, and the boss found it difficult to cope. She lay on the bed, almost reduced to a skeleton and she tried her best to avert her eye.

The ex-boss looked at her and waved the envelope, ‘This is an appointment letter waiting for you Mo, and I don’t have all the time in the world. Your team is missing you. So get well soon and I will see you at work in a month. I hope you got that.’ He did not wait for her response. Just turned around and walked out. Scared I guess. Vinay noticed tears welling up in her eyes. He stayed back a few minutes, held her hand. No words were spoken. And yet a poignant conversation ensued. Much later she did say to her parents that after their visit, her racking pain had abated.

Mohini, did return to work in her old firm. It took a few months for her to recover from the dreaded illness. Her ebullience was back and so was the cheer. She continued to dazzle people with her professionalism and humanness. All it took was a couple of guys to infuse a sense of purpose. And let her know that she was valued, that she was needed. They went there to light the lamp of hope, to feed the faith that life holds. In a caring way, albeit differently. And it worked. Faith heals, and hope feeds that faith. One needs a purpose to live… a life of purpose. Life is indeed beautiful.

Slice of Life #10 — Mother’s Pickle & Bottled-Up Emotions

This happened a long time ago. I always loved mother’s pickles, the lemon ones were just finger-licking good. My mother had packed a small bottle all packed and was in my cabin luggage, a small satchel. The airlines had introduced some serious checking at the airports, something new in those days. And I was not aware of it. In all ignorance I placed my bag on the scanner and the security guard at the other end stopped me and asked me what I had in the bag.

"My mother’s home made pickle," I said with a sense of pride. He looked at me and said in a rather rude way that I could not take it in my handbag. And I asked him what a pickle bottle could possibly do, and tried all my ways of persuasion. He did not budge. 'Put this into the checked in bag' he said. And I had nothing to check it in I pleaded. He was adamant, as he should be. The queue was getting backed up.

And then I started pleading with him, and did I look like a person who could do any harm. My words fell on deaf ears and he was getting irritated. Finally, in a rather sentimental way I gifted the bottle to him asking him not throw it into the waste bin. It was my mother’s gift to him I said. And quickly added that he would thank mother if he tasted it. He gave me a blank stare. Just then a smart young man in a white shirt asked me where I was going, walked to the guard said a few words, and took the carefully packed bottle.

It was the commander of the flight I was taking to Hyderabad and he said that he would take it with him for safekeeping. And would give it to me on landing. Upon landing, I was called out and the captain gave me the bottle. He had gone out of his way to do something extraordinary for me. I was touched. I looked into his kind eyes and thanked him profusely and asked him why he stepped out to do this for me. His eyes moistened and he said that he had lost his mother a week ago. ‘I know the value of love packed in a bottle of pickles’ he said. I hugged him, took the bottle and walked away, my eyes welling up with tears.

Happy Mothers Day!

Slice of Life #7 — Packing Mother’s Suitcase

Mother wanted to go to Chennai. Like most octogenarian she kept reminding me that her suitcase needed to be packed. I told her that it was the fourth time she had told me. It was clearly her excitement of travelling back to Madras. To her it was always Madras, not Chennai. I told her to keep all her things on the bed in the room for me to then start the packing process. There was a twinkle in her eye. I left for work thereafter.

In the evening, I came back to a double bed full of clothes, and a pile of whatnots that needed to be discarded, not packed! Why would she want to take her magazines in her suitcase? And the bathing ‘Mira’ sheekakai powder, of all things. This came from ‘Madras’!! And six bars of washing soap, and five clunks of bathing soap. And endless sarees. It was going to be a long evening of negotiation. I needed to be patient with her and speak softly.

Reminded me of my school days. When packing my bags to school, I always packed a couple of story books and stealthily put in a couple of ‘tops’ a yoyo and a few marbles. My mother would then come in to inspect my bag before I charged off to school. When caught, the questions, the protestations and the deep sense of hurt if she put away the yoyo or the marbles and a tear shed for good measure, came rushing to mind. The day when she let me carry a story book to school, I hugged her. She said that I was to read it at the break. Fast forward, it was the same game all over only that the roles were reversed.

I tried to persuade her to lose the mags, and told her that the soaps could be purchased in Madras. She protested, said the mags had her favorite stories. I paused. What is it to give in to the ask of a lady bent with burden of raising three children and of modest means, of those times? She looked longingly at me. I relented. What would I tell her? That I would have to pay excess baggage? She had carried the baggage of life without a murmur. And with a smile. I simply put all the stuff in the bag and gave her a big hug. There were tears in her eyes.

The bags were packed, the sentiments were not. I looked away and wiped the tears as I left the room, even as I smiled.

Slice of Life #6 — Little Lies and Life

It happened quite innocently one day when I was returning from a business trip. My wife asked me what time I would be coming in and I told her that I would be there around 10 pm. I was actually catching an earlier flight and I would be home a couple of hours earlier. I wanted to surprise her and told her a ‘little lie’ about the time I would be home. It so happened that the flight got delayed and I actually got home only at 10 pm. This was crazy!

Another time I went to the market and when she asked me if plantains were available, I gently lied that they were out of stock. I would surprise her by bringing them home, I thought. I went inside the shop that usually stocked them and to my surprise, I found that they were missing from the shelves. It could not be true, I thought. This was the second incident in the week.

I was thinking of going to the gym. I was feeling lazy and my heart was not in it. I would tell my wife that the car would not start and I could duck out. When I went up, I found that two of the tires were kaput and there was no way I could be driving for some time now! Now the little lie game was getting a bit much!

Perhaps that was a bit of truth in the lie game. At a conscious level it starts to play out what the subconscious lied about. I was living the lie! It was time to stop. It was so much better to avoid the little lies. It is better to speak the truth and pay the price or reap of being at peace with oneself. I called my wife and told her that the flight was on time. And it was. Once in a while you chuckle for being a ‘good fella.’ In all the darkness of life the rays of hope lie in speaking the truth. Life is beautiful without the lies. It is.

Slice of Work #3 — How to Become a GM!

He was a diminutive chap. A quiet man, whom I will call NR. He had been a secretary to a General Manager of a well-known trading company. He looked ordinary but had a constant smile on him. He was going to be interviewed by SK, a VP of an MNC who wanted a steno typist. At a preliminary interview, a helpful HR person suggested to SK that he need not waste his time as he was not a good MNC fit. SK however waved him away and asked to meet NR.

At first sight, he thought he was indeed a wrong fit. The man sported a broad checked shirt and a light green trouser.No power dressing, this. SK, swallowed his prejudice, offered a seat, and asked about his education. "B.Sc., Physics," said NR. This was interesting, a Physics major was doing the job of a steno-typist! 86% aggregate, he gently added. Now, SK was curious. Sitting in front of him was a man who had a strong academic record but was doing a job of a steno typist. He was acutely aware that he himself had not got those marks in college.

Upon gentle persuasion, NR spoke of his need to take up a typist job to support his family. And after 18 years of working through the system, had moved to be the secretary to the GM. SK forgot all of his prejudice of an MNC look. He asked him some more questions and was convinced of his versatility. It was a sad quirk of fate that NR could not pursue his studies. Here was an outstanding man whose time had come, thought SK.

“You will work with me for only 18 months, and I would like to see you move on,” he said. It was the turn of NR to be surprised. SK added that he wanted NR to grow in the organization and that he would be perpetrating a fault if he insisted on his being his assistant. “You will take on other roles in my function,” he added. NR smiled, moist of eyes. Here was a man who wanted him to grow in the organization!

Everyone loved him. NR was ever present, always ready to help and had earned the tag of reliability about him. SK moved him after 18 months and had him take other roles. NR grew rapidly. He dazzled everyone with his diligence, rigor and focus. His presentations were a treat. Years later, NR went to SK’s house and pressed an envelope into his hand and said that he had an external opportunity and wanted his advice. It was a job offer from a reputed company and for the post of a GM-Operations. SK re read the designation ! What a distance NR had covered! It was the turn of SK to reach for his kerchief.

A secretary to a GM was now a General Manager! A warm hug and some coffee later, SK asked him to move on. There are many in the world who all but need an opportunity and faith..faith in the ability of ordinary steno typist with a checked shirt and green trouser.

Slice of Work #1 — The Final Interview & the Old Coordinator

He was an ordinary man doing an ordinary job in a not so ordinary company. Let’s call him Mr C – a recruitment coordinator. He was bent of age but had a sparkle in his eye and a keenness to serve.He had taken us around, given us a lot of information. He put in a kind word of advice and was supportive of each of us who had come in for the final interview.

Ever keen to know our background, and had asked a lot of questions. A good listener, he had been encouraging of anything we said.After the interview was over, he took the others aside, then came back to two of us and congratulated us. Said, “It is important to be kinder to those who were not selected, and that takes time.”

Many months later, I met him again at the head office. I invited him for some coffee and asked him about his life and his work. He swept that question aside and said gleefully, “I knew you would be selected. I have met so many people and am 99% sure who would make the cut.” “It is my life’s work,” he added with pride. I gently asked, “Does your boss know about this.” He smiled and kept silent and I could see a teardrop well up in his eyes as he turned and walked away. That was ages ago.

Each job has a specialization, and people who handle it know the best. They often become experts and long to be consulted but are seldom asked.Their tasks are often seen as mundane. Forgetting that God is in the details. And they can reveal a lot of insights. They are the diamonds in the rough. All it takes is a genuine interest in them and an inclusion that instills a sense of ownership of their work and the company. To check and to value a person’s point of view regardless of where they are in the hierarchy is a value learnt over time.

Fast forward >> As I set about to interview the next person, I asked the seasoned coordinator what she thought of the candidate. There was a gleam in her eyes as she started to speak. And I remembered Mr C...

Of Departed Flights and Goodness

Let me call him AB. I did not know him well. He was a very senior person in the industry. I held a slightly arm’s length with him. In meetings he was always vociferous and made his points clearly. Today was no different. In all the cacophony in the room, his voice was clear and soft. He ran his own company. I was not sure of him. I thought he was wanting to get something from everyone. After the meeting, he said he would drop me to the airport. I agreed. Nice car, his BMW. We reached the airport. He parked his car and he wanted to have some coffee with me. He was doing some ‘business development’ I thought. He had 40 minutes, he said.

The coffee arrived as did a lean young man with a hint of worry on his forehead. He hesitatingly asked us if we could help him. He had missed his flight and the airline was not in a position to take him on the next without a fresh ticket, which was really expensive. He was going to Srinagar. And he had no money to foot the big cost.

Here we were two suited gentlemen and he thought we wielded some influence! I was not sure what to do. AB did not hesitate. He simply asked some questions and asked me if we would help the man in trouble. He did not wait for a response, and went to the reservation counter and spent the next 30 minutes speaking with passion that we ought to be gentler with our Kashmiri brother. Rulebooks were thrown at us. AB would not give up. I added my two rupees’ worth.

Finally, the reservation manager relented and a fresh ticket was issued for a flight the next day – something that is seldom done. All thanks to AB, for a complete stranger who approached us.

AB need never have done this. Yet he did. And he did not allow for any big drama of gratitude. And made it look easy in the eyes of a stranger who almost gave up hope of getting back and in time, to his family.

How easy it is to judge someone and sometimes unfairly, and carry an impression that is never validated. A simple act of kindness witnessed at close quarters left me in wonderment.

Respect does not grow in an instant. In my case it did. And I was acutely aware of my failing - Inability to see the goodness beyond the image is the same as impaired vision. I thanked the young man. It was time to leave. Our 40 minutes were up. I felt the extra warmth when I hugged AB.

It took a departed flight to understand the goodness in someone.

Of Pencil Stubs and Recognition

I can never forget Prema teacher. Many years back my father got transferred from Kolkata to Chennai. As it was middle of the term, I had lost six months of school and struggled to catch up on studies. I joined fourth standard and worked really hard to keep pace with the others. Mid-term exam results were upon us, and the dreaded day came up, when the class teacher would read out all our report cards. Ms Prema called out our names and to each one she said some words of encouragement. The toppers got shiny cups and a certificate of merit. My name was read out the last as I was new to the class. She handed with flourish a green colored stub of a pencil to me and said, “I am sure you will do much better in the coming days.” 'This is for your efforts', she said and patted me on my back.

The moment was special—while other students were given a trophy and a certificate, I was given a used pencil stub. But that was priceless. That pencil till date remains as the single most memorable recognition in my life. It left a deep impression on me for a reason: it was my teacher’s way of reposing faith and trust in me. To the toppers, it was an acknowledgment of an achievement, to me, it was to cheer me on.

Years passed and I got married. I remember my wife had cooked us our first meal. I had hardly had my first morsel when she asked me how it was. I smiled, and said it was the most wonderful food I had ever had and added that it was much better than my mother's cooking. A different matter that my mother was not around. It was terrific moment of bonding. I felt great, and she felt as if she had won ' Master Chef'. I realized that, in that instant, both the giver and the receiver both feel wonderful. Voila! This is so easy.

Recently, I went to a colleague at her workplace. It was festooned with certificates and trophies. I asked her what was the most prized one in that lot, and she picked among all her medals, a handwritten note given by her boss. Priceless, she said. That piece of paper mattered the most, as it was a real token of appreciation of her achievement, albeit small. He had come over to her desk and personally pinned it on her board, she said. I could see pride in her eyes, that special moment of joy that she was reliving.

This morning I went to the Badminton court to meet someone. There were a bunch of my colleagues playing there. They invited me to play, and I had never played that game. I started with a lot of tentativeness, and for each of my return of the shuttle, there was much applause and encouragement. When I left the court , I was feeling like a champion. Recognition is like oxygen, a life giver. Everybody needs it. People work in organizations, but they stay because there is someone who cares, and values what they do.

We all need appreciation. Even bosses need them. As do your spouse, children and other family members. Anyone. Facebook cracked the code and added the 'like' feature (and not the 'dislike' one). Small wonder we turn to it, for there are many out there who care to 'like' what you post. Small acts of kindness go a long way. We tend to find faults easily. Can we catch people doing something right? In that moment, it can be life changing. For these are the moments that matter! And shows that you care.

Start recognizing and appreciating anyone you care about, if you have not already. Your spouse, colleagues, friends, relatives all need a hug. Even virtual will do.. And let me know what your call meant to that old aunt that you almost forgot, or to your long lost friend who made a difference to your life. This morning I remembered the green pencil stub of Ms Prema and I smiled.

Of Deep Desires and a (S)pot of Luck

Flash back to four years ago. He loved Hyderabad and wanted to buy a house and settle down here. He had said the same thing when he was in Bangalore a few years ago, but this time it was different. It was serious. So, he and his wife went house hunting.

First, he went to Taj Krishna, a very nice hotel which was hosting a real estate jamboree infested with upper class people. “What the heck, let me try to blend in,” he said to himself. He met a young man from a leading builder and asked for a brochure, and he reluctantly gave him one. “I should have dressed better for the occasion. Brochure prospecting is a serious business, and I should have known,” he thought to himself.  With a casual air, he asked for the price of a villa that they seemed to like.  The realtor quoted a figure that he thought was steep for a clutch of such villas. But he did not flinch. Instead, he asked him if he had anything better. Never let your guard down when buying a house.

He then picked out another bigger brochure and his amusement showed in his eyes. Now, this house was terrific. He fell in love with one that was available, that overlooked a park and had some really good frontage. When asked for the price, and it was like a blow to the solar plexus. Whew! But he held my ground, asked him to show him the booking chart and in his own hand, marked it off, and said, “I will return, keep this one for me.” His wife thought he was mad. This was way beyond any budget. “Anyways, I scored over the sales guy, didn't I?” he thought.

Life moved on. He could not afford that house. He opted for an apartment that overlooked the golf links. Life was going to be good.  He was steadily paying up for the apartment for a couple of years. Bad luck smiled.  The housing board played spoilsport and the flat went into litigation — for me and many more. He was in deep trouble. Life was at its ebb. He had paid up too much for an apartment that went into litigation!

His wife asked him to ‘perk up’ and buy a house. He loved advice. This was the best!  So, they went house hunting — again. Innumerous Saturdays were spent hunting for a place that they could call their own.  Six months of searching … and almost all properties and projects of the city were seen. None would come close to the house of his dreams, the one that he had liked.  His agent was getting tired of him.  Patience was running thin. And he asked him to see one last house, after which he wished to part ways.

The house was lovely, exactly the way he wanted, the park in front, good environs, nice façade. He wanted to close the deal and went to the builder. He was in trepidation as the prices were all too high. But the saving grace was that the prices had fallen by almost 40% owed to some regional politics (bless them!). The price was finalized. He would have to a fat loan from the bank and would now be working for many years for ICICI bank (to pay off his mortgage).

The builder asked for the booking chart to seal the deal. And as the page turned to the booking chart — lo behold, there was in his very own tick mark on the brochure — the one that he had marked off some four years ago. The dream house finally did come back to him!

I am touched by the power of deep desire and a (s)pot of luck. If you really want something, in a miraculous way, it does come to you. Not all the time, but when it does, it makes life worth living for something you deeply desire. It can happen to relationships, to jobs, and careers. Life does hold out its magic wand of goodness in all its seemingly endless road of pain and conflicts. Where there is a desire, there is hope, and where there is hope, there is life and miracles.

I welcome you to my new home and partake in our humble offering of fine humor, food for mortals and spirits of the Gods, for it is I, with that big fat dream! J

Of Math Tests & Second Chances

A profound insight into building character happened early in my life during my days in college. I was then a student of Mathematics at Vivekananda College, Madras. I remember Prof. Venkat, who taught us Theory of Automotive languages – a tough subject. Prof. Venkat, who returned from the US, was a giver. He loved to teach and accepted a salary of just Re.1. He came with the clear intention of making a difference, and he was a tough guy. As a professor, Prof. Venkat was par excellence. He was also one of my early teachers of ‘Ethics in Action.’

Mid-Year exams were approaching. The theory part was a bone crusher.  Many, like me, were not confident about the exam and we were trying to see how we could sit by the side of someone who knew the answers! I had never failed in an exam and this was going to be the first, for sure. On the day of the exam, when we all filed into the class, Prof. Venkat quickly distributed the question papers and asked us to keep them face down. We were a nervous wreck. Noticing a little flicker of fear in our eyes, he asked, “How many of you are not at all ready for the exam today?” A few of us raised our hands, hesitatingly. He said “Students sitting in room, I urge you not to copy. It challenges my imagination that somebody would have to copy in Mathematics!” Hopes faded in an instant.

Prof. Venkat continued: “If some of you believe that you are not ready, I will give you another chance. I will reschedule this exam to the next Sunday and we can have the same 3-hour text. I will change the question paper but next week would be your last chance. How many of you would want to come in on Sunday for the test?” We could have hugged Prof. Venkat. Only four people took the test that day. The rest of us came in on the following Sunday.

The incident left a deep impression on me.  Prof. Venkat gave me a second chance. He taught me to be honest. The simple deed of giving and not making a big deal about it was an act of grace. I will always remember Prof. Venkat for this magnanimous act. He taught me an important principle of human endeavor – to give people a chance. 

Over the years, I realized that it is very important to give each other a second chance. We all need a second chance – both as a giver and a receiver.  In giving you receive, and in receiving you take the responsibility to pay it forward. Recently, I was cleaning my cupboard and saw my old text book, and out fell a photograph of Prof Venkat. He had taught us more than just math … and I smiled.

This was for That, and That was for This!

Very early in my career, I had a boss who was an incredibly nice man. I was working as an industrial relations officer, in a company manufacturing explosives for use in the coal mines in the heart of Bihar – and the union leaders ruled the roost. We had a new union leader who was elected called Ishwar.

On pay day, the cashier would count and hand over pay-packets to everyone in envelopes, a far cry from today's ATM cash fed machines. Pathak, the cashier who worked with the company for over 30 years, handed over a pay packet to the new union leader Ishwar. Even as he started counting the notes, he suddenly claimed that 100 rupees were missing. The average salary in those days was about Rs1300. So, 100 Rs meant a big loss for Ishwar, and he made a big hullaballoo directing profanity at Pathak and asked all employees to stop taking their salary. A big scene ensued. Pathak kept pleading that he was not at fault, as he was a very careful man. Ishwar had started well indeed.

The matter reached the ears of my general manager Om Prakash aka OP. He was a kind man. He knew Pathak to be an honest man but he wanted to defuse the situation. OP told Pathak to compensate the same amount from his account. Pathak was in tears as this had never happened in his long career and it came as a blotch on his impeccable record. Everybody forgot about the incident except Pathak. He was confident about it was the mischief of the union leader. We all knew that Pathak was right, but the damage was done.

The following month, prior to pay day, my boss OP called Pathak and spoke something to him. We all knew that OP would tell Pathak to be careful. The word was abuzz that Ishwar was coming for his pay-packet. This time again, the same 100-rupees was missing and Ishwar created an even bigger ruckus – same ritual.

OP went to the cashier’s area, looked at Ishwar and said, “Why is it only your cover has 100 rupees less, every month? This never happens to anyone else, but you? And Pathak has been here for ages! Will you doubt your fellow being wrong each time?”

OP then looked at the crowd of people and in a measured way left the place. The crowd shouted at Ishwar accusing him of being an unfit union leader who found fault with his own staff. Ishwar had no answer and went away without the 100 rupees.

That evening, I was with OP’s office when Pathak came in and fell at OP’s feet and thanked him profusely. Seeing the bewilderment on my face, OP said he trusted Pathak and knew that Ishwar was out to create trouble when the first time he claimed he got less money. This time around he deliberately instructed Pathak to put 100 rupees less in Ishwar's pay packet, and appealed to the people about his innocence. Given the reputation of the cashier, the people were sure that Pathak was innocent. And it worked … aah what drama! That day, Pathak went home walking tall, his reputation preserved.

Sometimes it pays to pay back in one's own coin. After all ... "This was for that and that was for this!"

Of Flipping Coins and Decision Making

I had an uncle called Krishnamurthy.  We used to call him Kittu Mama – a very quiet and thoughtful man. He was very popular with all the children at home. He was non-judgmental and always supported us in any way he could.

My earliest memory of him was his taking me to a shop in Madras to buy me a candy called 'kamarakattu', a specialty in those days. I don’t see them in the malls any more. What an expectation! Like many of the things of my younger days, it has not passed the Darwinian test – survival of the tastiest!

During the summer holidays, he indulged all of us by teaching to make a special candy made of tamarind, sugar, salt mixture, stuck to a small toothpick-like stick. We used to walk around the house feeling like Edison having invented something new. Such was the power of his persona. Nowadays, we need more of such Kittu uncles.

One day, I was caught up with myself in some decision-making bind – Do I? Do I not? It was all too confusing and I resorted to the usual – flip a coin, make a wish, and see what the coin lands up with. Seemed easy! I tossed the coin and 'asked' for heads. When it landed on my palm, it was 'tails'. Hmm ... best of 3s, I told myself. Rats ... again, tails. Hmm ... best of 5s, I said to myself.

And as I flipped the coin, Kittu Mama appeared from nowhere and caught the coin mid-air. He looked at me and asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was making a decision, and of course, that I was betting on best of 5 flips of the coin and if I called correctly, it would lead me one way...

Kittu Mama looked at me in a good-natured way and said that flipping coins was a great way to make a decision, and said that we need not flip it more than once. The coin would never lie, he added. He asked me to flip for the last time, and asked me to call out if this were 'heads or tails'.

I called heads, and even as the coin went flipping, he caught it as it came down, covered the coin in his palm, and said, “What did you wish for when the coin came falling down – a deep desire?”

I said, “I wanted heads, and badly so.”

He said, “Then don’t look at the coin. It does not matter if this were heads or tails.”

The decision making was complete, even as the coin was in the air. “The outcome of the coin in his palm was inconsequential,” he added.  He said, “No more 'best of 3s' etc.”

Suddenly it all fell in place. I wanted a desired outcome, and could not decide and flipped a coin. Even as the coin was in the air, the heart knew what it wanted. That was the right answer! This was magic – what a great and simple philosophy!

Recently, I flipped a coin and even as the coin flashed in the air, I knew what I wanted … and I remembered my late Kittu Mama.