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.

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.

Of Androcles and What Goes Around Comes Around

My grandmother taught me to read and instilled in me values, as all grandmas do. I remember her telling me the story of Androcles where this young man was in a cave and he saw a lion in a cave, roaring in pain and recognized it needed help and removed a thorn from its paw. Later, the same lion saved him when he was being thrown to the lions in the arena, as throwing people to the lions was a popular sport then. This story stayed with me for a long time.

Fast forward in time, about 1997, I was recruiting at a campus in Calcutta and made job offers to a few students. About two months later, one of the candidates – and I will call him Sai, an outstanding guy – called me to say that he had failed a paper and so, he would not be getting his ‘Degree.’ His widowed mother made entreaties and asked me to extend the validity of his appointment letter by six months that would allow for him to clear his exams.

Although this was against policy, I took a view that we would allow for an extension that could have Sai join us. His mother was happy, Sai was happy. One day, Sai wrote to us to say that he had found a job closer home and was very thankful that we kept his offer valid as this gave him a big leg up to his sagging confidence. We were sorry that he could not join. All was forgiven and forgotten.

Fast forward to 2011. About four months ago, a colleague of mine called on me with a request to help him find a job for his wife, Sudha, a qualified sales person. I wrote to a good friend – let me call him Ram – a HR head of one of the largest Indian banking institutions in the country and asked that he consider her candidature on merits. Ram responded to me to say he would try and forwarded my mail to some colleague of his.

A couple of months later, Sudha called me to say that she had ‘got the job’ and was most thankful to me. The excitement and gratitude got jumbled in the words that gushed and I was as thrilled she got the job. That is all that mattered. I was very impressed that her resumé got the right attention at the right level and the speed at which it was evaluated and an appointment letter issued, in one of the largest banks!

I was in wonderment of it all, when I got a call at my desk. It was from the Bank, and the head of HR wanted to speak to me. He mentioned that the mail came over to him, had noted where the mail emanated and had gone the extra mile to ensure that the CV got the right attention, etc. I thanked him profusely. He asked me if I remembered giving a helping hand to a candidate who had failed his exams many years ago. It was Sai. I could not believe it. Virtual hugs followed.

Today, Sudha called me and told me that she was awarded the highest order of merit by the bank for her performance and I congratulated her. I started humming Justin Timberlake’s song, “What goes around comes around.” And I remembered my grandmother...

Of Evaluation and Evocation

I can never forget the first annual review of performance of my work in an organization. The appraiser was my boss, my hero, Ravindran G, working with the Imperial Chemical Industries (ICI), a then leading, UK-based multinational. Being a management trainee, there wasn’t anything substantial I believed I had achieved. I had visited seven departments over the year, observed how they worked, how we could improvise, working on small projects, but had not really done anything that stood out. So, when the time for the review came closer, I was quite worried. What had I to show? How would I be received? And there was money tied to the evaluation. Worse, heart of hearts, I knew it was not a great year. I was feeling really low.

Ravi scheduled a two hour meeting with me for my review, which didn’t make me feel any better! I was totally unprepared about what to say. At the appointed time, he took me in his ‘buggy’ to the club and we sat over a cup of coffee. He pepped me up saying, “Looking sharp, Nathan,” which meant that I had dressed well. This made me feel at ease, and I was starting to feel better. This was going to be easy, hopefully.

Ravi started off by asking me, “How was the year, gone by? Do you believe we have lived up to your expectations? What does your conscience tell you?,” etc. The two hours that were to be my evaluation, actually turned out to be one of the most engaging conversations I have ever had. He kept egging me on with appreciative nods. I told him about my fear of evaluation and my nervousness, and everything I had done over the past year. I admitted my failures, mentioned my small wins, owned my goof-ups and discussed my plans. I spoke like one who didn’t fear evaluation.

At the end of the two hours, I felt a huge burden off my shoulders. I asked my boss what I could do better, and he told me in simple words, “You have done well! Do what you are doing; stay honest and you will go way up ahead. And, by the way, focus on your strengths. Don’t worry about what you are not good at. And, do small things exceedingly well.

From this experience, I came out stronger and enriched, with the knowledge that one needs to put in a lot into the job and not overly focus on evaluations. For years, I strive to conduct meaningful review sessions where I focus on what has been achieved, evaluate performance, not the person, not scare them off, but evaluate to give them developmental feedback, shore up their confidence and be in their moment of evocation of their professional and personal growth ... just as Ravindran G did years ago.

Of Marathons and Careers

I am always very fascinated with marathons. In my younger days, I used to do a lot of long-distance running. The more I think about a marathon race, the more I am convinced that it is very similar to how our careers pan out.

In a marathon, there is a start line, a finish line, and a goal to be achieved. How well you perform depends on how you prepare for the race, and how you run that race. And at the end of the finish line when the marathon is over and done with, along with the sheer joy of completing the marathon, we all start to look forward to another marathon—just like we do in our jobs.

The warm-up: As I see it, preparing for a marathon is like preparing for a career. There is a lot of learning, a lot of rigor, lots of discipline, and not to forget, a compelling reason to excel. I have also learned that it is important to run the race because you’re committed to running it, and not because you have to win.
When you join an organization, it’s almost like preparing yourself to run the marathon. You finish your education and get ready to begin your career.

The start: As the race starts, you can see an apparent commotion and jostling for space as people try to get ahead of each other—oftentimes at the cost of your co-runner. But I’ve seen that the people who’ve really run a good marathon, are people who pace their race well, allow for people to pass by yet keep to the running. So, in real life, planning and pacing a career is more important than getting a good head-start.

In a marathon, just because someone, who started with you, is ahead of you by a few hundred meters, does not mean much! And if you’re ahead of someone, it again means nothing! It’s a long, long race!

The middle: I remember a boss of mine, Daljit Singh – a wonderful man! I was running this mini marathon on a crisp winter morning, and was wanting to give up somewhere in the middle, when he came by in a scooter and exhorted me to keep running and used some gentle words of persuasion. Words that I dare not print :). I found a renewed energy and started to run hell bent for leather. It was a pleasure breasting the tape as the winner. The trophy was special, all owed to Daljit. He had no need to be there with me. Yet he came to cheer me. In your career you will find a lot of Daljits. Their only intention is to support you and in a selfless way.

The final leg: The final leg of the marathon is perhaps the most difficult part of the race. There are two things that happen to you— either you almost give up or you experience a tremendous surge of energy that takes you through. You’re not distracted by anyone, but keep going on and on and on … and right yonder you see the tape. There may be others who may have already breasted the tape, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ve now finished the race. Even as you’re huffing and puffing, you realize that you have finally found your own edge, your own winning formula.

The end: When you finish the race, amongst a lot of cheering and applauding, there comes a great sense of satisfaction: “I have made the marathon.” The marathon is complete because you’ve achieved your goal. You recognize that completing a marathon is a big deal in your life, and when you start to walk back slowly toward your home, your mind is already made up that you will, for sure, run another marathon.

Discovering your true self: A part of our lives is about goals, about how we achieve those goals, and how we move things around it. As we embark upon running a marathon on a cold winter morning, we know that the 26 miles 385 yards will take a long time to cover. But, so are careers—it is really long-distance. It tests, among other things, your patience, perseverance, and discipline. There is a certain cheer and camaraderie as there are lots of people running the race. It is very enlivening because it helps you to discover your true self—about who you are as a person.

Just like in real life, in a marathon too, there are highs and lows. Sometimes when you believe that you are too worn out to take another step, someone gently nudges you and says, “You can!” Discovering yourself in the course of a marathon of a career becomes your ultimate gain. A Daljit comes your way!

I love marathons. It helps me be human. It is not just about winning but also about how run the race. And I also truly believe that the only person you compete against in a marathon race is your own self. Careers are no different. I hope you too see it this way. Now go run one or at the very least, cheer those who are running one.

Of Faith and Target Practice

I was part of a team that represented my college in rifle shooting as part of the National Cadet Corps (NCC.) We had to travel almost 30 km to a firing range every morning and this extended even during the weekends. Our coach, Major Sairangan was a remarkable guy – a man of great character and principle.

One Saturday, I remember distinctly, Major Sairangan called us to the shooting range very early in the morning and we were up there at 6 am in our uniform, but the rifles hadn’t arrived and the ammunition was to be brought by Major Sairangan. The firing ranges of our days were quite different from the ones that you see today. It was a huge open field and there was a hill in the horizon … there were no trees around and the place was completely barren and fenced off to ensure that there was no casualties.

We were waiting for Major Sairangan out in the sun… 6 became 9 became 12 became 4 pm and there was no trace of the Major. We didn’t want to leave the place because we knew if he said he’s going to come – he will come! In those days, we didn’t have mobile phones, but the spoken word was more powerful than anything else. There was a certain connect with Major Sairangan. We had huge faith in the Major as we knew him as a man of his words. It was well past lunchtime, but still nobody wanted to move out of that place. It was almost four – we were hungry, irritated and terribly tired.

At 5 o’clock a rickety army van arrived at the range. And Major Sairangan bounced out of the vehicle. He was disheveled and his clothes were dirty. The first thing he said was “Folks, let’s unload the materials and start shooting. We started unloading and getting ready for target practice. There was no mention of the reason of his getting late or thanking us for waiting for him. By the time we set up the targets and started shooting, it was 5:30 pm and getting dark. We could hardly see, but all that our coach said was if we were to fire by the candle light, we would. And we fired away. Would you believe it – we had the best group score ever! Although we could hardly see the target, we scored our best. At a point when we could see almost nothing, we stopped firing and packed up.

Finally, when everything was done, the Major opened up: “Boys, I am very proud of you! You had the faith in me… you waited and you knew that I would come. Just wanted to tell you that my truck broke down in a remote area and it was a desolate place. So, I had to repair the vehicle myself. I went down to the town to get the parts, came back and fixed the broken axle myself. That’s why I was late. By the way, I have brought some food for you.”

That evening, as I sat down, I realized how extremely important it is to have faith in yourself and trust in your people. How you perform depends a lot on the kind of relationship you have with your team mates and your leaders. Relationships have a great way of testing you out. But if you have the resilience and the faith then even in the darkest of days, when the sun is failing you, and your spirit is weak, faith in the relationship can get you the highest score and on target.

It is clear that we succeeded because we had the faith. There was a huge urge to let Major Sairangan know that we wanted to give our best. We didn’t want to make him feel low that it is because of him that we didn’t fire well. But, we really wanted to show him that as much as we had the faith in him that he should have faith in us… that we would be giving our best!

This is one story that will always remain with me as hugely inspiring. On any of my bad days, I recount this story and feel the palpable power of faith and trust, resilience and self-belief in me.