A word of advice

Last week my 20 year old niece visited us from Sydney. She was en route to India where she would spend the next few days traveling and meeting with relatives. It was her first break since passing out of high school and she intended to explore the country of her birth.

As was to be expected, both of us received a set of instructions from her mother (my dear elder cousin sister) who is hopeful that her daughter finds her way to a meaningful and rewarding career. The young lady received her share of do's and dont's...as did I. She on what she ought to do, or otherwise. And mine were to behave like a responsible "uncle" and give her some advice and coaching. Receiving such instructions from my sister was not new for me. Many a time during my teenage years, when she felt I was going astray, she would patiently sit me down extolling the virtues of hard work and urging me to study diligently. How the exertions during one's formative years would pave way for life of comfort and ease. She had been a role model in our family...consistently achieving top ranks during her school, college and university years, even going on to obtain a Ph.D. Much to my sisters dismay, I never came anywhere close to the standards set by her. So it was strange to me that she felt her daughter had something to gain through exposure to me.

Whenever I am asked to give guidance or advice to youngsters, I feel overwhelmed by the expectations from me. The burden of responsibility seems heavy for my shoulders. I am a tad awkward and out of place. After all, how could anyone benefit by listening to me?? For one, I dont feel very grown up myself. And my life is hardly the story of conventional success. A quick glance would make it obvious that

...there are no academic achievements to boast of. I have attended institutions of reasonable repute and performed above the norm, but nothing that could be considered a sterling example for others to strive for

...my work life while in India is a study in sheer imbalance. During a substantial part of my career, I have worked to the detriment of everything else, neglecting even my health to an extent that I very nearly lost my life a few times and was subsequently required to undertake considerable repair work

...I have not achieved exceptional financial success. In fact, I cant even recall my salary and I would be quite clueless about my assets or net worth. After having worked for close to fifteen years, I still do not own an inch of land anywhere on the planet leaving people to wonder what actually motivates me to work

...I have some weird notions about life which most sane humans cannot comprehend. Even my closest friends have not understood them, much less accepted. Some have wisely suggested that I ought to visit a psychiatrist and have my brain rewired. For example, I am unable to fathom why men and women feel compelled to reproduce. Like we do not already have enough human beings on the planet! And this discomfort takes extreme forms including an inability to be in the presence of pregnant women...and I dont even feel an affinity towards children

So it is indeed curious that people would want advice from me. But despite all my shortcomings, and unmindful of the risks to their own sanity, sometimes they still insist on it! And at such times I feel equally compelled to be of assistance as I hate to let people down when they reach out for help. However, my thoughts on giving and receiving advice have changed over the years. I have now come to believe that we are utterly incapable of giving meaningful and genuine advice to another individual. Hence, I try to refrain from doing so. Instead, I seek to understand the person...their life and experiences, their desires and dreams, their failures, shortcomings and heartaches. Which is exactly what I did with my niece.

One night after a long day at work, I sat and listened to her story. How she had got to where she did. What she had struggled with. She spoke lucidly about herself, her successes and her failures. And expressed confusion about the choices of career to consider. Which is when she turned to ask for my advice...and I had none to offer. Instead I gave her some homework...I was the uncle after all, and had some authority over this captive audience in my house! I asked her to list down - at a very granular level of detail - everything she was good at and everything she was not. She was not to give her own opinions or attempt any interpretations. Rather, she needed to delve into her childhood and think about what her friends, family, teachers and co-workers had told her over the years. She could take as much time as she wanted, use as much paper as she needed, and no amount of detail would be excessive. This was to be a long list! When she completed it, I gave her another assignment. Which was to review the list as if it were someone else's and to think of possibilities. What was the message in the list? How could she draw upon her strengths and interests? What was she likely to excel at? What would she love doing? What pitfalls must she avoid? What ought to be the story of her life? And then, as we got into the cab to go to the airport, she was leaving for India and I was off to the Philippines, we talked about whether the path she was currently on would provide her joy and fulfillment. Was it building on her strengths, interests and passions? Or did she need to change course and look afresh for a new one?

When we parted there was a sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her step. She was energised and felt she had rediscovered aspects of herself that had gotten lost over time. Perhaps, she had been heading down a path more suited for someone else... And needed to pause and reflect whether it was what she really wanted or would excel at. This young lady has talent. As do we all. Her talent is for her to find, to exploit and to develop. She needs to chart out her own path and to do so she needs to explore. Her explorations may take her to different places. And at times she may trip and fall. Often, it may not lead to a destination at all. Challenges and barriers will come...some quite early and from unexpected quarters. They are hers to accept and overcome.

My niece boarded her flight without receiving any pearls of wisdom or valuable words of advice from me. Had I let her mother down yet again?

It is my fervent hope that while she was here, she was able to discover a little bit of herself. And that as she travels in the coming days, she finds out a lot more. If new thoughts have arisen, I hope they will be elevated. If an idea has been triggered, may many more germinate. I wish her success and I also wish her struggle. As I would wish anyone I care about.

As for my advice?? I am clear that I ought to keep it to myself. Most people are better off without it...

A hectic week draws to a close

I have traveled and worked hard. Been in meetings from morning till night. Teamed with delightful colleagues and friends from different nationalities...some of whom have traveled further, and most who have worked even harder! We have focused on issues to solve, value to deliver, things to do in the near term, and stuff to focus on in the longer term. I have been privileged with the opportunity to meet with upcoming generation of HR professionals, to listen to their views and share thoughts from my experiences.

I have read reports on the global economy and noted steadily deteriorating conditions the world over. The big seven economies in recession. Emerging markets in a downturn. Every subsequent week brings in a bleaker picture. This week I learnt of the Australian economy feeling the heat...and not just of the bush fires that killed a 130 people and caused untold grief to the nation. No optimistic news, other than India's victory over a small island nation which produces lion hearted cricketers.

There is a strong and continuing urge to do more. I feel the need to remain focused and grounded. A need to team with people and to create value. To be of assistance to whoever approaches me. There is no desire for rest or recreation. Perhaps somewhere there is a fear...fear that I will not be able to do enough??

Eighty years of progress

Times change...and yet they dont! Mankind takes tremendous strides forward...but then again, here we are! 80 years on, it is difficult to fathom what has changed and what remains the same. Some images of the great depression of the 1930's along with some recent pictures. To me, the only real difference is that the earlier one's are black and white.

My early years in JNU

I was born into a family of academics. My parents had met while pursuing their doctoral degrees in a city then known as Leningrad and in a country that no longer exists - USSR. After spending five years earning their PhD, they returned to India and were married. Such a marriage was a first for both families at the time, my mother being a Bengali and my father a north Indian who was born and raised in Lucknow. And with surprising lack of opposition from either side - especially considering that this was middle class India in 1970. Soon after my birth, at the tender age of 2, I was diagnosed with severe bronchial asthma...which perhaps led to my mother giving up her professional career and devoting her life entirely to my well being and upbringing. Till today, I consider that the academic world lost a talented lady.

My father then joined Jawaharlal Nehru University to teach modern European history and we moved into the beautiful campus, which in those days was still an upcoming institution comprising a small number of clustered buildings. These included the academic block, hostel accommodations for students who came from far and wide, living quarters for the teaching staff...and 400 acres of wild open space! I say wild because that is exactly what it was. JNU is situated on hilly terrain at the southernmost tip of the Indian capital and is amply endowed with nature's bounties - both the flora and fauna. It has a forested feel with thick shrubs and dense foliage. And lots of animals. As kids, we saw all kinds within the campus. Like the majestic peacock dancing to herald rain early in the morning. Or the stately Neelgai (asian Antelopes known for their blueish colour) who would get startled and disperse if you chanced upon them. Sometimes there were packs of foxes, and in our early years we heard wolves howling in the night. We have seen large monitor lizards. These reptiles are known for their distinctive ability to get "stuck" to surfaces. I am told their services were called upon by the fierce Marathas who would scale walls of fortresses by tying ropes around the lizards and climbing up behind them...a unique form of guerilla warfare in those days! And of course there were snakes!! During my growing years, I got to see them at close quarters. It was not uncommon to chance upon one while strolling along a secluded path. Once my dog, a brave little dachshund named Zulu, kept guard against a cobra in a barking and hissing battle that lasted over three hours. It is said that these snakes go in search of their dead mates. This one had slithered into our house a month after its mate had been discovered by the same trusty friend in our garden. Unfortunately for them, both were executed by gardeners who were adept at handling such situations. Once we even had a black scorpion scampering across our corridor.

Set as it was in such beautiful natural surroundings, and cocooned from the big, bustling city...yet it never felt far enough for one to lose touch with cosmopolitan realities. On the one hand I came in close proximity to nature. On the other, I grew up amidst learned academicians. Simple people with surprisingly strong views. Views ranging from the far left (JNU was a socialist bastion in the 70's and 80's and may still be to some extent) to the liberal...and at times even the far right! Many an evening were spent listening to debates on matters concerning the nation, the economy, and of course everyone's favourite - politics! As the evening would progress, so would the decibel level with everyone vociferously holding forth their points of view!

Growing up in JNU has had a profound effect on me...and memories of my childhood and teenage years are deeply engrained. It has now been a decade since my father retired and we left the campus. And almost everybody I knew there has since moved on and are in different corners of the planet. The university has also grown - both in prominence and in size. Buildings have sprouted and there are fewer secluded spots around the campus. Yet, I scarcely need to close my eyes and am transported back to the tranquil environment of my childhood. I vividly recollect every aspect of life on the campus. The rock on the park outside my house where we spent countless hours playing and chatting. The lovely smells that would emanate from trees during rains. And the winters!! Waking up in the morning and peeping out of the window in anticipation of a cold, foggy day. Long walks along the road that encircled the academic block, with hands thrust deep inside the jacket. And the new year parties when my friends and I would go around collecting firewood for the bonfire... Even today, my visits to Delhi are incomplete without a drive into the university campus. I go there to spend a few quiet, solitary moments...driving on the same roads, walking the same paths. On my last visit, I went and sat on the rock outside my old house, maybe after 20 years. It was strange how it now seemed much smaller. Either I had outgrown it, or somewhere it had assumed larger than life proportions in my imagination.

Is this an escape from current reality? Am I craving a life long gone? Of a chapter closed forever. Maybe it epitomises an existence that I seek and have not yet achieved? Or does the past always seem glorious in comparison to the present?? I do not have answers to my own questions. What I do know, however, is that I have been truly privileged to have spent my formative years in such a wonderfully charming, warm and cosy world, the likes of which I might never experience again...