Of Perception and Reality

It was a Saturday afternoon, many years ago. I had gone to work to interview someone for a senior Marketing role for a company that I was working for. It was to happen at 3 pm. The office closed at 1 pm and I was the only person in the office. I told the sulking receptionist, who had to stay back just for me, that he was to call me when the candidate arrived.

And then I started the long wait for the person to turn up. I did not even care to read the resume. It was just too long … meant the person was very verbose. I was already forming an opinion. At 3 PM, I went to the reception. I was getting angry, how could anyone keep me waiting! I asked the receptionist and he said that no one had turned up. I did see a person clad in a squalid trouser and a tee shirt, slippers and unkempt hair, unshaven, reading a newspaper. I went back to the room. Came back in 15 minutes and again asked and the receptionist said that save that scraggy person there was no one around.

I mustered some effort, went up to him and asked if he was waiting for anyone and he said he was waiting for the head of HR to meet him. His English was faultless, rich. He can even speak well, not bad, I thought. I asked if he was S and he said he was. I asked him to follow me and walked up a lot briskly ahead up the unlit corridor. All that was going on in my mind was – “Oh God, give me the wisdom not to judge him too early, too soon.” I reached my office and sat behind a big teakwood desk. In those days, we were indulgent to a fault. Very British décor!

Then started a fascinating conversation that was to last half an hour but went on for a full two hours. We spoke about many things and it was easily the best interview that I have been part of. I was listening to a very grounded and wonderful person. At the end of it, I told S that I was very happy about his candidature and that I would get him to meet our MD. We were going to shake hands and at that moment he asked me, “Why have you not asked me about my attire?”

Without waiting for me to respond, he added that he was coming from the cremation ground having laid his beloved uncle to dust and rest. That he had no time to go home and change and wanted to keep the time agreed on and had rushed to the interview. He also added that he was very touched that I had not asked him about it. He said that regardless of the outcome, he would stay connected and left the room.

How do I tell him that it was a great lesson for me? I had formed a negative opinion about him and would not make the cut. And had judged him way ahead of the interview based on what I saw. Between perception and the reality is a mind that is already made up. If the gates of reason were to remove the filters, we can see more clearly. Perception is skin deep while reality is at the heart of the matter. He did not care about his dress, was focused on doing the right thing of keeping time.

Small detail, I still keep in touch with S, who is a CEO of a very large company. A smaller detail, he was from IIM Cal. And did not take the job we offered. Said he wanted a smaller job.

Of Sour Grapes, Conviction, and Risks

In 1995, Ram, a friend of mine, surprised a lot of us by declaring that he was going into farming – to grow grapes. For a successful engineer this was an eye popping move. We tried to cajole Ram against it but he said, “What is life if I don’t take a chance? I’ll never be able to do this again. I’m young enough to take this risk.” So he put all his life’s savings and bought himself a parcel of land somewhere near Shamirpet – in the outskirts of Hyderabad. Ram was a determined man. He spent a lot of time researching farming and its methods. He set up a small shack for the farm hands to stay and did all that he needed to do to get a good crop. 

When I met him a few years later, I asked him, “Ram, how are the grapes?” He proudly opened a small box of grapes. I popped one into my mouth and almost spat it out – it was really sour. Was this all he had to show after eight years of toil I thought. He smiled in a knowing way. ‘I just manage to survive by selling a few boxes these to my people who work at the farm”. I asked ‘Where is your life going? Do you seriously want to pursue this?” He said he was convinced it was the right thing for him to do. He was not making money, but he was firm that he would continue farming. It was an affirmation of his faith in his farm. I asked him to stick to his convictions and not aver a bit. I felt a bit awkward and left Ram to his farms. Sometimes in our careers we do something risky born out of our convictions. But was that the right thing to do?

I recently met Ram and nothing much seemed to have changed with him or his farm. He seemed ebullient. As usual, he gave me a bunch of grapes to taste and asked me, “What do you think about these grapes?” This time I was honest with him and said, “These grapes are sour. How will this ever sell? How will work for you? “Yes buddy, I know, but they seem to work for me,” he replied smilingly. It didn’t make any sense to me. 

Ram explained, “The grapes haven’t done very well but the land that grows these grapes seems to have done a lot better.” He had bought two parcels of land along the highway. The price of land had shot up to some astronomical levels. He had sold the smaller piece and bought himself a house and bought more land in some other place. He still retained the bigger piece of land for growing grapes. He thanked me for giving him the courage to have faith in his own conviction and said that the land has turned into gold! He was smiling ear to ear.

I left the farm feeling happy for Ram and was lost in thought about what courage and conviction can do for life and careers. There must have been so many trials and tribulations in his life, so many years of doubting Thomas and a long journey of questions that he had to go through. And I guess Ram just dug in!

What is life without risk in it? Life is to be lived a bit on the edge and in doing so; it is convictions that tease out the results. However unintended, positive consequences play out for the brave. 

Ram still believes that one day he will produce grapes that aren’t sour. I am convinced he will.

Of Advice — Received and Given

I am just amazed at the amount of free advice that is given out and received each day — all well intended and some very profound.  Some said in jest but precious all the same. So, here it how it all began…

‘Get up early, it makes you healthy wealthy and wise’, said my sleepy wife. It was 6 am. That morning I met my friend Ganesh from Mumbai and he mentioned quite casually that the best advice he received was from his colleague Kumar, who told him, “Sell your bike before you go to Bombay,” This seemed to be an everyday advice anyone would give, but not for Ganesh. This called for his giving up something he really loved – his bike. And yet he knew that there was some truth in the advice as given his health condition, he could not afford to take chances. He said that over the years, he could count off many near misses he has had on the roads in Bombay and remembered Kumar. Advice, oftentimes, may not be the thing you want to hear!

That afternoon, I met my colleague of many years, Ravi, and he said he received the best advice from me! I had asked him to ‘add some focus and commitment to life’ and asked him to ‘buy a house’. He had said it was beyond his means. I added that most things were ‘within your grasp, beyond your reach’, and that he should try. Today, he is a proud owner of a flat in Mumbai, and his appreciation (pun intended), knew no bounds.

This was beginning to be interesting. The same afternoon Venkat, a head hunter called me. I got the best advice from him several years ago. He had told me: “You don’t get far being a rolling stone, so don’t change your jobs every 3 years.” Precious! How can I ever thank him enough? Incidentally, he called to let me know that he had changed his job, but that is another story.

I came home. The maid servant was engrossed in her mopping. I lauded her for it. She responded saying that it was her duty to ‘do simple things exceedingly well’. Here she was giving me some sage advice in a graceful way. I was touched.

Later that evening, I met my sons, one of whom told me, “You got to relax, Dad!” And the other came in a few minutes later and added, “Dad, you got to chill!” I called my mother who lives in Chennai, who asked me to take care of my health. Big hugs, mom!  Advice was raining on me. My wife asked me not to “think too much” but remain “in the moment.” This was a Family package of advice – precious indeed!

It occurs to me that the world cares, people care, friends care, family cares and just about anyone you meet – care for you. They all express it in different ways.  We like some of the advice we get, some we don’t. I recognize that if anyone gives an advice, it is because they care!  I felt good.

A dear friend called me and advised me to pen my thoughts. Even as I write this, I am beaming with the joy of gratitude, of a day well spent – heeding the priceless advice... of the priceless!

A Prophetic Lie

In the morning of August 29, 2011, we had the Hyderabad Marathon and a dear friend of mine, Bhasker Sharma, from Bangalore, was participating in it. He had asked me to come to the Gachibowli Sports ground at 9 a.m., by which time he would have finished the race. I went there at about 9 a.m. and was very excited as I was meeting Bhasker after many moons.

At the gate, I was flagged down by an officious police official who prevented me from going to a spot closer to the stadium. I told him that I was there to receive the marathoner who had come in first in the event. He looked at me and flagged me off with a big smile on his face. I had lied, as I had no idea if Bhasker came first or not. I did not feel good about it. It was playing on my conscience, even as I alighted from my car.

I met Bhasker on the track and realized he was a celebrity! He had done some 31 marathons and everyone seemed to know him. I was in great company. I was basking in his glory and was holding his bib, his small eats, anything for somebody to know that I was Bhasker’s friend! I managed to catch up on old times but after a marathon, it is a bit hard, and Bhasker was patient with me.

The Prize distribution was on and we were heading toward the podium. Then came the vote of thanks. No, Bhasker’s name was not called out. Dutifully, I got Bhasker and his brother into my car to the nearest auto-rickshaw and he left. I felt guilty on two counts — I had not spoken to Bhasker long enough or taken him home, and I had lied to the police guy at the gate.

About 4 p.m., I called Bhasker and caught up with some quick chat on the phone as he was heading out to the airport. He said that it was a great marathon, his personal best timing of sub-4 hours, and added that it was a bitter-sweet one for him. He had been called out by the organizers for being the first in his category (above 50 years), and at that time we were out of earshot. He missed receiving his trophy from the Governor. His prize would be sent to Bangalore.

And I remembered the conversation with the policeman and smiled. It was a prophetic lie, indeed!

Sometimes in life, if there is an universal truth out there, even a lie turns true...

Of Ambys, Splutters and Stutters...

Years ago, there was this senior colleague who I much admired. Let me call him Dr Rajan. A fine man, he used to be especially kind to his car. He owned an Amby – the good old Ambassador – and used to speak to his car in a kind sort of way. Winter mornings were not good for the cars in those days. Fiats and Ambys were subject to a lot of ignition coaxing and cajoling, and the whining of the engine in the mornings was a regular feature of the times.

Dr Rajan used to talk to his Amby, allow for her to splutter and in all the intervening times would say sweet things to her and forgive her whining. Notice the gender here. To Dr Rajan it was a ‘her’. I was very young then, and used to watch him with amusement. He believed in her and was often said that he knew she could ‘make it’.  It appeared as if his car u came to life after his words of endearment. I learnt then that a dollop of kindness here and there worked wonders, even with inanimate objects!

Many moons later, I had the opportunity to meet a fine student called Chandramohan at a campus at Tiruchi. He was a brilliant man and a passionate soul – a whiz with the web and a technophile. He was shortlisted for the final round of interviews on the basis of his test scores. Before the interviews, he met me – something I always evade, but could not avoid this time – and started to speak to me. I noticed a lot of stutter in his speech. I knew that this had its foundation in confidence and told him that he needs to ‘keep his chin up’ and do his best, etc. When he told me about himself and I was confident he would leave a mark wherever he went. He was passionate, intelligent and caring. I liked him a lot for I knew we had a winner on our hands. However, I knew that it was going to be tough for the young man at the interview, what with his minor handicap.

The interviews started and when Mohan came in, I confronted my worst fears. He seemed nervous and was stuttering a lot. He could not do much and despite my support, his candidature was looking at risk. The panel members sat in the evening to discuss the finalists and I guess, it was my lucky day that I was able to persuade them to clear Mohan. He was put into Sales and Marketing – killer job for such a person! His boss was unrelenting and for about two years he silently bore the brunt of her demands that he “should not stutter.” Long story short, Mohan decided to leave and start his own firm. On his last day at work, he came to me and thanked me and I asked him to have belief and faith in himself – he would one day be an outstanding guy. I told him that I trusted him and his abilities more than anyone, and he thanked me for my words of encouragement. I wish I had done more to help him.

Many years later, Mohan tracked me down, and wanted me to address his top team in Chennai.  He was a hugely successful software entrepreneur and was doing very well in his field. He was very upbeat, very effusive of his praise of the company where we worked and recounted in fondness of what he had learnt in the place where we had worked before. I was a bit embarrassed and while he was being a good host, I was lost in the wonderment of his accomplishments. I had no doubt about his capabilities. His team was very passionate about the company and were very competent professionals. The meeting ended, and I came away feeling really on top of the world. As I sat in my car, it occurred to me that in all the time I was with Mohan there was something very different about him. The stutter had vanished!

What a spoon of self-confidence and self-help can do to oneself! We all need to help ourselves. And we need someone who can be in that hour when support is needed most … someone to help get past that splutter – those cajoles and coaxes with a gentle touch – to find that confidence in ourselves. And I remembered Dr Rajan.