Friday, August 6, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Let's just get out of the way!
Twenty flights, mostly long haul and some less so, weaving in and out of airports some thirty odd times over a nine week period. That pretty much summed up my life this summer. My work, enjoyable as it was, had kept me on my toes and also up in the air.
So when I trudged into the Chennai office of Madura (http://www.maduramicrofinance.com/) a couple of days after returning from yet another grueling trip to US, I should have been a tired man. I was there for a Board meeting and to work with new members of the leadership team on their expansion plans. But the two days I spent there turned out to so energizing that fatigue evaporated even before it could set in. Some weeks have gone by since my visit but I still find myself smiling as I reflect on the conversations we had and the experiments we decided to enact.
My association with Madura began over a year ago. I had been looking for opportunities to work with people engaged in bridging the gap between those with education and access and those without. Madura was embarking on significant growth plans and wanted to have a person on the Board with experience of scaling an organisation. We found each other thanks to a helpful friend. Over the next few months, I made several visits and got an opportunity to see the impact of the organisation up close. Madura was preparing for the next phase of evolution with diligence and focus. They scouted for senior management professionals to complement the highly dedicated staff that had brought the organisation through its various phases of evolution. I participated as I could – joining in the selection process and decision making, sometimes in person and at other times over skype or phone, from whichever part of the world I happened to be in. In a surprisingly short time, new members of the management team had been recruited and they were ready and raring to go!
So the July meeting was of significance. The Board had shown up in full strength. The customary quarterly performance update was given and plans for the future were laid out. There were new ideas aplenty, confidently presented by a young and driven crop of managers. Their voices mingled with those of industry stalwarts who had spent their lifetimes building and nurturing some of the leading organisations in India. There were emotional moments. Senior Board members who had seen the organisation from its inception and deeply cared about the vision of its late founder were heartened to see the new generation propelling it forward with energy and conviction. By the end of the day, there was energy, optimism and warmth all around.
The day after the board meeting was all about people…what would our strategy be to grow the organisation? How would we preserve its culture as we grew manifold? A smaller group had gathered to deliberate on these matters. Still in the afterglow of the previous day's events, I had some nagging thoughts at the back of my mind. I was really trying to understand what made this organisation what it was…what was its secret sauce? How could I contribute to its future unless I really understood its DNA? So I decided to seek answers from people in the room. There was the Chairperson, Tara (check out http://physicsofpoverty.blogspot.com/ for some remarkable insights), Sandeep - Board member and Founder of Elevar (http://www.elevarequity.com/), and David, the new Executive Director (http://www.davidappasamy.blogspot.com/).
What happened thereafter was magical...
The picture of Madura that emerged was unique and paradoxical at the same time!
The company had been in the business of microfinance for the past fifteen years, operating within the villages of Tamil Nadu in south India. It had a long history of serving the rural poor. Over the years, the organisation had gone through difficult times as it changed hands, lost its revered founder, and rallied around to eventually emerge stronger. So much so that in 2007, Forbes ranked it as the world's most cost effective provider of microfinance. On any financial metric, Madura was off the industry charts for a company of that scale in India. Lowest rate of lending (by a significant margin compared to its nearest rivals), very low operating costs, excellent rate of loan repayment, high customer retention...
We had all been to the field and met frontline employees as well as customers. There was unanimity in our observations...never before had we met a more committed set of people who were so totally immersed in the mission of the organisation. Their emotional connect to the purpose was unparalleled. They had extreme cost sensitivity – not wanting to ever burden the poor. Employees went beyond the call of duty in serving their customers, who in turn regarded the field staff as one of their own. Several members of management had been with the organisation for decades in its earlier avatar as a bank. I had once witnessed a training session in progress and I couldn't believe how openly they embraced the new practices being propagated. Trust levels were obviously very high - not just between employees and management, but also how the borrowers looked upon the company. One defining, and unique, characteristic of Madura was blurring of the distinction between employee and customer...in many ways, they were practically the same! Several employees were women who had started out as borrowers, and over a period of time gained the means and skills to contribute. They imbibed the mission of helping others progress from poverty and eventually joined the company. As I learnt later, even senior functionaries had taken salary cuts to come on board.
Yet, in some aspects the way the company operated defied conventional management wisdom. Madura was not awash with a bevy of management practices...manuals, well documented role definitions, performance appraisal processes and the like. Until recently, they did not have formal heads for some of their key functional areas. The leadership team had not been driving 'top down' messages through the organisation. The obvious controls were financial and statutory in nature, with extensive use of mobile phone technology. Even field staff - the sales force - were not given set targets to perform to! They would simply go into the villages, form Self Help Groups (SHG) of women, mentor them in various aspects of entrepreneurship and provide useful information to enable them.
What then explains the results? How could this organisation outperform on every conceivable commercial parameter without embracing basic management practices?
We eventually agreed that it would be hard for us to understand till we ourselves unlearned…discarding the familiar so we could embrace the subtleties of this wonderful ecosystem. One decision was clear - until we knew any better, we would not impose upon it our myopic views and conditioned responses...in fact, we would do quite the opposite. The customers would decide and the employees would serve.
As for the Board and management, let’s just get out of the way!
So when I trudged into the Chennai office of Madura (http://www.maduramicrofinance.com/) a couple of days after returning from yet another grueling trip to US, I should have been a tired man. I was there for a Board meeting and to work with new members of the leadership team on their expansion plans. But the two days I spent there turned out to so energizing that fatigue evaporated even before it could set in. Some weeks have gone by since my visit but I still find myself smiling as I reflect on the conversations we had and the experiments we decided to enact.
My association with Madura began over a year ago. I had been looking for opportunities to work with people engaged in bridging the gap between those with education and access and those without. Madura was embarking on significant growth plans and wanted to have a person on the Board with experience of scaling an organisation. We found each other thanks to a helpful friend. Over the next few months, I made several visits and got an opportunity to see the impact of the organisation up close. Madura was preparing for the next phase of evolution with diligence and focus. They scouted for senior management professionals to complement the highly dedicated staff that had brought the organisation through its various phases of evolution. I participated as I could – joining in the selection process and decision making, sometimes in person and at other times over skype or phone, from whichever part of the world I happened to be in. In a surprisingly short time, new members of the management team had been recruited and they were ready and raring to go!
So the July meeting was of significance. The Board had shown up in full strength. The customary quarterly performance update was given and plans for the future were laid out. There were new ideas aplenty, confidently presented by a young and driven crop of managers. Their voices mingled with those of industry stalwarts who had spent their lifetimes building and nurturing some of the leading organisations in India. There were emotional moments. Senior Board members who had seen the organisation from its inception and deeply cared about the vision of its late founder were heartened to see the new generation propelling it forward with energy and conviction. By the end of the day, there was energy, optimism and warmth all around.
The day after the board meeting was all about people…what would our strategy be to grow the organisation? How would we preserve its culture as we grew manifold? A smaller group had gathered to deliberate on these matters. Still in the afterglow of the previous day's events, I had some nagging thoughts at the back of my mind. I was really trying to understand what made this organisation what it was…what was its secret sauce? How could I contribute to its future unless I really understood its DNA? So I decided to seek answers from people in the room. There was the Chairperson, Tara (check out http://physicsofpoverty.blogspot.com/ for some remarkable insights), Sandeep - Board member and Founder of Elevar (http://www.elevarequity.com/), and David, the new Executive Director (http://www.davidappasamy.blogspot.com/).
What happened thereafter was magical...
The picture of Madura that emerged was unique and paradoxical at the same time!
The company had been in the business of microfinance for the past fifteen years, operating within the villages of Tamil Nadu in south India. It had a long history of serving the rural poor. Over the years, the organisation had gone through difficult times as it changed hands, lost its revered founder, and rallied around to eventually emerge stronger. So much so that in 2007, Forbes ranked it as the world's most cost effective provider of microfinance. On any financial metric, Madura was off the industry charts for a company of that scale in India. Lowest rate of lending (by a significant margin compared to its nearest rivals), very low operating costs, excellent rate of loan repayment, high customer retention...
We had all been to the field and met frontline employees as well as customers. There was unanimity in our observations...never before had we met a more committed set of people who were so totally immersed in the mission of the organisation. Their emotional connect to the purpose was unparalleled. They had extreme cost sensitivity – not wanting to ever burden the poor. Employees went beyond the call of duty in serving their customers, who in turn regarded the field staff as one of their own. Several members of management had been with the organisation for decades in its earlier avatar as a bank. I had once witnessed a training session in progress and I couldn't believe how openly they embraced the new practices being propagated. Trust levels were obviously very high - not just between employees and management, but also how the borrowers looked upon the company. One defining, and unique, characteristic of Madura was blurring of the distinction between employee and customer...in many ways, they were practically the same! Several employees were women who had started out as borrowers, and over a period of time gained the means and skills to contribute. They imbibed the mission of helping others progress from poverty and eventually joined the company. As I learnt later, even senior functionaries had taken salary cuts to come on board.
Yet, in some aspects the way the company operated defied conventional management wisdom. Madura was not awash with a bevy of management practices...manuals, well documented role definitions, performance appraisal processes and the like. Until recently, they did not have formal heads for some of their key functional areas. The leadership team had not been driving 'top down' messages through the organisation. The obvious controls were financial and statutory in nature, with extensive use of mobile phone technology. Even field staff - the sales force - were not given set targets to perform to! They would simply go into the villages, form Self Help Groups (SHG) of women, mentor them in various aspects of entrepreneurship and provide useful information to enable them.
What then explains the results? How could this organisation outperform on every conceivable commercial parameter without embracing basic management practices?
We eventually agreed that it would be hard for us to understand till we ourselves unlearned…discarding the familiar so we could embrace the subtleties of this wonderful ecosystem. One decision was clear - until we knew any better, we would not impose upon it our myopic views and conditioned responses...in fact, we would do quite the opposite. The customers would decide and the employees would serve.
As for the Board and management, let’s just get out of the way!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Of old friendships...lost and regained
The decision to move to Singapore was taken towards the end of 2007, prompted by a combination of professional and personal factors. My job in India had been one long and exhilarating, yet tiring, journey as our organisatoin grew by leaps and bounds. I had long felt the need for a change and was desirous of learning about new cultures and sharing my experiences with other countries facing similar challenges as I had during my last few years in India. On the personal front, it had simply become unsustainable to continue living in metropolitan India. After three very dangerous and near fatal asthma attacks over a span of two years, I needed to figure out where I had a reasonable chance of survival. Thanks to a very generous organisation, I was not short of options. After considering various locations around the world, I settled upon Singapore...it had proximity to several growing markets across Asia and was a great travel hub. It also had very clean air and a tropical climate that suited my condition. And it was not far from India.
In April, 2008 I began my life in this new country. I was now officially a ‘foreigner’…my identity card had the letters FIN (Foreigner Identification Number) printed on it.
Over two years have passed since then and I have slowly begun to acknowledge changes that have taken place in my life. The first was on the health front, which improved significantly after moving to Singapore. For perhaps the first time, I was able to expand my chest and fill my lungs with air without hearing a wheezing sound. I ran a 5km race within a month of arriving in town. I started exercising and training. The nature of my work and even the workplace changed dramatically. From a noisy and buzzing office in Bangalore that was filled with meetings from morning to night and where every day revealed a new crisis, I was now in a global role where appointments were made and respected, life revolved around conference calls which people diligently prepared for, and my cell phone would ring only occasionally. I traveled to different countries and worked actively with new cultures - learning and advising - and was fascinated to discover similarities and differences from my own.
Outside of work, I sensed some degree of ethnic centricity in how people lived their social lives. They tended to congregate and mingle within familiar boundaries. Indians with other Indians. Chinese with the Chinese. Brits, Aussies and Americans with their like (or 'Caucasians' as they are often referred to in Asia). Not to say that this is all very stark and restrictive, but that is the general picture…
The desire to have a dog grew stronger. It had been many years since I had one running around the house. Constant change of cities and unrelenting work pressure had kept me from making the commitment thus far. But now was really the time, I felt. It would still take two years before a puppy would walk into our house.
There was another realization, which has taken a while to acknowledge and reconcile to. And that was the loss of old friendships. Those that I had grown up with had already dispersed to different parts of the world. Most of my friends were in their early parenting years with lives centering on their progeny. Conversations now were shorter and less intimate. We were content just to learn that the other was well, or hasten to offer help if needed. Everyone was busy with their careers and managing their households Without even knowing it, our outlooks were becoming divergent. The commonalities - shared desires, activities and aspirations - had shrunk. I was the outlier. The one that had never desired children. Even those that I had been close to the past few years began to drift away, slowly but surely. Now that the context had changed, maybe we just did not have that much relevance in each others existence. I was feeling the effects of my personality and decisions. It had become lonely out there...
But that doesn’t make life gloomy and I am not moping about with a long face. These are just realizations that come with the passage of time and advancing of years…some that one rues at and reminisces, and others that bring a smile on one's face. Like my work, which is pretty intense and offers room for creativity and having a positive impact on people. I constantly get the opportunity to work with new people around the world, both within and outside my company. I travel extensively. There is energy and excitement.
And a new friend at home who is quite a delight!
Health has been great...
Or is that changing again?? In the past month one of my oldest friend’s has reappeared...bronchial asthma! Nothing serious. Just a friendly reminder that he is never too far away... The familiar constriction of the lungs on occasion. Affected sleep. There is suspicion that it may have something to do with our four legged friend…hair being shed from his coat may be triggering off the allergic condition. But we are fortunate to have an outside area for him to live and play in. So we shall keep a close watch.
In April, 2008 I began my life in this new country. I was now officially a ‘foreigner’…my identity card had the letters FIN (Foreigner Identification Number) printed on it.
Over two years have passed since then and I have slowly begun to acknowledge changes that have taken place in my life. The first was on the health front, which improved significantly after moving to Singapore. For perhaps the first time, I was able to expand my chest and fill my lungs with air without hearing a wheezing sound. I ran a 5km race within a month of arriving in town. I started exercising and training. The nature of my work and even the workplace changed dramatically. From a noisy and buzzing office in Bangalore that was filled with meetings from morning to night and where every day revealed a new crisis, I was now in a global role where appointments were made and respected, life revolved around conference calls which people diligently prepared for, and my cell phone would ring only occasionally. I traveled to different countries and worked actively with new cultures - learning and advising - and was fascinated to discover similarities and differences from my own.
Outside of work, I sensed some degree of ethnic centricity in how people lived their social lives. They tended to congregate and mingle within familiar boundaries. Indians with other Indians. Chinese with the Chinese. Brits, Aussies and Americans with their like (or 'Caucasians' as they are often referred to in Asia). Not to say that this is all very stark and restrictive, but that is the general picture…
The desire to have a dog grew stronger. It had been many years since I had one running around the house. Constant change of cities and unrelenting work pressure had kept me from making the commitment thus far. But now was really the time, I felt. It would still take two years before a puppy would walk into our house.
There was another realization, which has taken a while to acknowledge and reconcile to. And that was the loss of old friendships. Those that I had grown up with had already dispersed to different parts of the world. Most of my friends were in their early parenting years with lives centering on their progeny. Conversations now were shorter and less intimate. We were content just to learn that the other was well, or hasten to offer help if needed. Everyone was busy with their careers and managing their households Without even knowing it, our outlooks were becoming divergent. The commonalities - shared desires, activities and aspirations - had shrunk. I was the outlier. The one that had never desired children. Even those that I had been close to the past few years began to drift away, slowly but surely. Now that the context had changed, maybe we just did not have that much relevance in each others existence. I was feeling the effects of my personality and decisions. It had become lonely out there...
But that doesn’t make life gloomy and I am not moping about with a long face. These are just realizations that come with the passage of time and advancing of years…some that one rues at and reminisces, and others that bring a smile on one's face. Like my work, which is pretty intense and offers room for creativity and having a positive impact on people. I constantly get the opportunity to work with new people around the world, both within and outside my company. I travel extensively. There is energy and excitement.
And a new friend at home who is quite a delight!
Health has been great...
Or is that changing again?? In the past month one of my oldest friend’s has reappeared...bronchial asthma! Nothing serious. Just a friendly reminder that he is never too far away... The familiar constriction of the lungs on occasion. Affected sleep. There is suspicion that it may have something to do with our four legged friend…hair being shed from his coat may be triggering off the allergic condition. But we are fortunate to have an outside area for him to live and play in. So we shall keep a close watch.
I am determined to do everything in my power to stay healthy and productive…as I am to experience the joy of a wonderful pet at home. That is not too much to ask out of life, is it?
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Bringing up Kulfi
I have been home now for a few days and life has certainly changed with the arrival of little Kulfi. The desire to be around has intensified and the daily routine has also undergone a change. Whereas usually the instinct in the morning had been to quickly get ready and productive, the schedule has altered somewhat and I find myself coming down the stairs first and walking into the garden to greet the puppy. There is no time like the morning when they are at their energetic best and rejoice in their reunion with you, having been separated the entire night.
Oh...its past 5pm. On Sunday evening. Time for some woof woof!!
On days that I work from home, I find myself taking breaks to check in on Kulfi's antics. Or just to see if there is sufficient drinking water in his bowl. In Singapore it is quite typical for heavy clouds to gather in the afternoons and soon there are deafening claps of thunder followed by a spell of heavy rain. While this provides a respite from the sapping heat, it can be quite scary for young puppies especially if their abode is outdoors, as is the case with our dog. So when the skies darken and this phenomena unfolds, it is hard not to go out in the rain and peek in to see if all is well with the little fella. So far, it has been...and it is a relief to find him in peaceful slumber within his kennel even as nature unleashes its song and dance all around.
Over the past few days, the stream of visitors has increased in our house as friends have been dropping by with their children to see and play with the new puppy. The first six months are an important phase in the development of most dogs during which time they need to become comfortable around people and other dogs...a process called "socialisation" in doggy parlance. German Shepherds have been bred as working dogs, used extensively by the police and armed forces. They are known to be fiercely loyal to their masters and are excellent guard dogs. Hence it becomes critical to socialise them from an early stage. As of now, Kulfi gives absolutely no signs of aloofness...the treats he has been receiving from these visits may have something to do with it!
Sunday too is different. It is earmarked for a visit to the German Shepherd Dog Club! Well before Kulfi's arrival, we had started visiting the club and meeting with people there. It is located in a quiet part of the city and is a beautiful place with a large expanse of green where dogs can run around. There is even a pond for them to dive into and swim. Every Sunday evening dog owners converge there, some for the training lessons and others just to socialise their animals. During the course of our visits, we gained valuable tips from pet owners on do's and dont's of rearing puppies, besides learning about pet foods, veterinarians, and other essentials. Sometimes one receives pretty mind boggling advice from a concerned dog owner...like when I was told to feed the pup mineral water for its first few days in Singapore! I had dogs all through my growing years, but only after moving to Singapore have I learnt the myriad complexities associated with pet ownership. I wonder how we brought up our dogs without such nuanced understanding of pet behaviour and pet care?? But in general, one comes across pretty knowledgeable and caring folks. The club is great fun for dog lovers and one gets to see dogs of various breeds sauntering in and running around. Last week as I drove out from there, it suddenly struck me that I had come across some of the friendliest people in Singapore in this very place.
But puppy rearing is not just fun and games. Housetraining has its moments of exasperation as the puppy pretty much lets go when and where it pleases, with utter disregard to propriety! And when teething begins, everything is fair game. A doggy bone is never an interesting substitute for human limbs, playing tug-of-war with the trouser of your suit in the evening is just a warm welcome home, wooden furniture needs to be worked upon with a carpenters delight...and...the shoes!! Nothing gives greater satisfaction than the feel of a good 'ol smelly piece of footwear between the teeth. The look on Kulfi's face when he made off with our banker friend's designer leatherware was, well, priceless!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Anticipation!!
March went by in anticipation of an arrival.
Actually it all began in January, soon after a trip we took on the very second day of the new year. Two cars drove up to a beachside kennel-cum-residence of a prize winning breeder of German Shepherd Dogs in Sydney. We were there on an important mission - to check out a prospective family member. Something that required the presence and approval of several of our kin. Not that anyone had much expertise in the job at hand, i.e. in making a selection from 10 day old puppies, but we all took the responsibility seriously anyway. A burly Aussie gent answered the doorbell wearning an expression which could best be described as a mixture of disbelief and exasperation...who were these beaming bunch of Indians in his front yard?? But we got past that. An hour later we drove away, all questions having been satisfactorily answered. We also got to meet some of his prized dogs and take a peek at the new born puppies whose eyes were yet to open. The decision was pretty much made instantaneously, though one would dare not proclaim that ahead of the family huddle...
Actually it all began in January, soon after a trip we took on the very second day of the new year. Two cars drove up to a beachside kennel-cum-residence of a prize winning breeder of German Shepherd Dogs in Sydney. We were there on an important mission - to check out a prospective family member. Something that required the presence and approval of several of our kin. Not that anyone had much expertise in the job at hand, i.e. in making a selection from 10 day old puppies, but we all took the responsibility seriously anyway. A burly Aussie gent answered the doorbell wearning an expression which could best be described as a mixture of disbelief and exasperation...who were these beaming bunch of Indians in his front yard?? But we got past that. An hour later we drove away, all questions having been satisfactorily answered. We also got to meet some of his prized dogs and take a peek at the new born puppies whose eyes were yet to open. The decision was pretty much made instantaneously, though one would dare not proclaim that ahead of the family huddle...
I have my niece, Rimjhim to thank for this. When I arrived in Australia late in December, the soon-to-be 21 year old was given an assignment - to successfully identify a breeder of GSD's with a recent litter who was also willing and able to export the puppy to Singapore. She was off the blocks in an instant. Starting with the quintessential Google search, she surfaced various options, explored export procedures, spoke to several breeders, and even did a sales pitch on my behalf telling them how well the puppy would be taken care of in faraway Singapore (yes, that matters to most Aussie breeders who are quite patriotic about their dogs). And lo and behold, within 48 hours - a hair's breath away from the Christmas break when everyone and everything shuts down - we had established contact with a well known breeder who had new born puppies. The rest as they say is (modern) history. Rimjhim had nailed this!
After three long months during which my family made another visit to check in on him, and some missed deadlines later, he finally arrived on March 25. Despite all my planning I ended up being in Chicago for a crucial workshop, while he was welcomed by my wife and parents. The transatlantic journey back was longer than usual and the delayed connection from Hong Kong did not help matters either...so it was only at 3am the following Monday when I got my first glimpse. He was there...in my house!! Awake, curious, and tail wagging slowly.
So here he is. Introducing..........Kulfi!!
Barely two weeks down the road, the transformation from puppyhood has begun. The ears have perked up, movement of any kind generates tremendous excitement...and all things animate and inanimate are entirely meant for chewing pleasure!
And the latest discovery this morning...the new paper shredder in my home office!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Joie de vivre
4.05 kilometers
310 calories
22 minutes
An incongruous set of numbers to some. Gibberish to others. And for the fitness freaks, hardly a big deal!
But to me these figures held some significance. As I stepped off the treadmill my eyes lingered on them just a while longer and images flashed across my eyes.
The reception of my office in Delhi as I gasped for breath...waking up in the middle of the night covered under a torn green sheet in a strange hospital bed...the blurred images as I struggled to focus my bloodshot eyes after the blood vessels had burst...and the scars over my hands that remained long enough to remind me of the ordeal my body had been through.
It was not all that long ago...in fact precisely three years to the day.
As I wiped the sweat off my face and greeted my trainer to begin yet another intensive workout, more images flashed by... The sudden asthma attack which rapidly escalated into a cardiac arrest and caused my heart to stop. The horror that my family went through as I was literally dragged back from the edge. The look on my friends faces when they visited me in the hospital. The messages of concern, love and well being from different corners of the world. All formed a nice little collage in my brain. While I pumped iron.
Thirty one sets later my affectionate and caring trainer concluded my workout with a stretching session and I walked out and filled my lungs with the fresh Singapore air.
I had work to do, calls to attend to, projects to execute and plans to formulate. The calendar was filled with appointments. Travel was on the cards. Even the weekend held promise...I would connect with people from the microfinance company. My parents were visiting me and settling into a relaxed holiday schedule. And we were preparing for the big event in our lives...the new puppy would arrive from Sydney in a few days!
What a privileged existence!!
This opportunity to live life!
To struggle and strive.
To help and guide.
To listen and learn.
To befriend and trust.
To love and lose.
To grieve.
To try and then fail.
To give and to receive...
And before I carry forth with this miserable attempt at poetry, thankfully I glance at the watch. The date is past. The future beckons...
310 calories
22 minutes
An incongruous set of numbers to some. Gibberish to others. And for the fitness freaks, hardly a big deal!
But to me these figures held some significance. As I stepped off the treadmill my eyes lingered on them just a while longer and images flashed across my eyes.
The reception of my office in Delhi as I gasped for breath...waking up in the middle of the night covered under a torn green sheet in a strange hospital bed...the blurred images as I struggled to focus my bloodshot eyes after the blood vessels had burst...and the scars over my hands that remained long enough to remind me of the ordeal my body had been through.
It was not all that long ago...in fact precisely three years to the day.
As I wiped the sweat off my face and greeted my trainer to begin yet another intensive workout, more images flashed by... The sudden asthma attack which rapidly escalated into a cardiac arrest and caused my heart to stop. The horror that my family went through as I was literally dragged back from the edge. The look on my friends faces when they visited me in the hospital. The messages of concern, love and well being from different corners of the world. All formed a nice little collage in my brain. While I pumped iron.
Thirty one sets later my affectionate and caring trainer concluded my workout with a stretching session and I walked out and filled my lungs with the fresh Singapore air.
I had work to do, calls to attend to, projects to execute and plans to formulate. The calendar was filled with appointments. Travel was on the cards. Even the weekend held promise...I would connect with people from the microfinance company. My parents were visiting me and settling into a relaxed holiday schedule. And we were preparing for the big event in our lives...the new puppy would arrive from Sydney in a few days!
What a privileged existence!!
This opportunity to live life!
To struggle and strive.
To help and guide.
To listen and learn.
To befriend and trust.
To love and lose.
To grieve.
To try and then fail.
To give and to receive...
And before I carry forth with this miserable attempt at poetry, thankfully I glance at the watch. The date is past. The future beckons...
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Dr. Sharad Desai
In 1965, a tall, lanky bespectacled gent made his way from Delhi to a city then known as Leningrad, in a country which used to be called USSR. A year later he was joined by a Bengali lady and a Maharshtrian engineer. These young people had gone there to pursue their education and earn a Ph.D. degree. The next few years were perhaps among the most exciting of their lives...new friendships were formed, they settled into a world entirely different from the one they had been brought up in and together they explored Europe.
The engineer - Sharad Desai - returned to his hometown, Pune, with a Russian wife...a union that was not meant to last long. The tall man married the Bengali lady in what was then the first marriage outside the community for both families. In 1971, they had a son they named Rahul.
Upon his divorce, we did not hear from Sharad uncle for some time. A few years later, he was indeed very fortunate to find a wonderful woman as his wife. Medha aunty brought our families together once again. Till date, I regard her as one of the most vivacious, positive and loving women I have known in my life. We started to meet once every few years in what became regular family vacations. Each get together would entail travel and exploration to some part of India...and was marked by fun, laughter and gaiety. Medha aunty's children became my friends and my childhood memories are full of tales of the three friends - my parents and Sharad uncle - and their bachelor days in USSR.
Several years later, I found myself in Pune where I went for my Master's degree. Naturally, I would stay in Sharad uncle and Medha aunty's house as I looked for accommodation and started my coursework. Over the next two years, they became my parents away from home. Soon they engulfed my friends in their loving embrace and we would frequent their house to relish Medha aunty's cooking as she prepared to feed a pack of hungry beasts who would eat like they had not seen food in years! She and Sharad uncle would sometimes come for an 'inspection' of our bachelor quarters, resulting in hectic activity for us as the two room apartment would be scrubbed clean and precious 'evidence' removed before their arrival. Of course, they fully expected the pre-visit sanitisation and many jokes were cracked on what had been hidden! During the course of my studies in Pune, I developed a special bond with Sharad uncle and Medha aunty. Later, even as my work took me to different cities, I stayed in touch with them. The run up to my marriage was marred by tremendous strife at home, which eventually led me to move out of my parent's house. As always, Medha aunty and Sharad uncle were present and they brought comfort and joy to our family.
Sharad uncle had contracted Parkinson's disease. I would get to see him once every couple of years and there would be some deterioration in his condition. However, when we met, I always found him to be his usual affable self and enquire after us. In the evenings, we would share a drink together. A few years ago, my institute honored me by presenting me an award as the alumni of the year. I was invited to a function to mark the occasion. I requested Sharad uncle and Medha aunty to join my wife and me for the ceremony. I was surprised by the large gathering and the solemnity, wondering what I had done to deserve the attention. When I was unexpectedly called to address the gathering, my thoughts turned towards the front row where I found them beaming with pride. With some emotion, I acknowledged the role they had played during my crucial years at the institute...and I saw tears in their eyes as the gathering collectively applauded their presence.
Over the next few years, Sharad uncle's speech slurred and he spoke lesser. Often, Medha aunty would act as his translator. His movement became unsure and he encountered injuries due to his frequent falls. Other complications developed. Through all this, Medha aunty was the pillar, caring after his every need and even tending to his business affairs.
Last September when I was in Delhi, my father had a blackout in the bathroom which resulted in a neck fracture. Given that it had occurred in the aftermath of his strokes, there was reason to be concerned. I got a call from Medha aunty asking if they could visit us...Sharad uncle needed to see his friend. It was a shock as I saw him, a frail man, being wheeled out of the airport. He could not walk even a few steps without support and it was really difficult to understand what he was saying. He had traveled through some pain. The smile was unchanged. We spent a wonderful week together…the evening tradition of a drink remained, though I was careful in pouring him a tiny one. Despite everything, it was interesting, even comical, to see the friends interact and we had a laugh over the game of chess between my father and him. They struggled to remember the moves, needing intervention from the ladies! As I bid them farewell, we talked about getting together in Singapore soon. We knew it would be precarious for him to travel, but we were keen to be together again.
Two weeks ago, just when I reached my hotel room in Chicago, I got a call I had not imagined receiving so soon. Sharad uncle had died in his sleep. I could not fight back the tears and memories flashed before me. Medha aunty was strong as ever...even in her pain, she consoled me. He had suffered greatly the past few days and the passing had been quiet and peaceful, much like the life he had led.
I called my mother to break the news. In his passing, there was a deep sense of loss. I grieved not just for him, but also for the friendship that he had shared with my parents over forty five years. I remember him for his constant presence in our lives, for his soft nature, for his smile...
Rest In Peace, Sharad Uncle.
The engineer - Sharad Desai - returned to his hometown, Pune, with a Russian wife...a union that was not meant to last long. The tall man married the Bengali lady in what was then the first marriage outside the community for both families. In 1971, they had a son they named Rahul.
Upon his divorce, we did not hear from Sharad uncle for some time. A few years later, he was indeed very fortunate to find a wonderful woman as his wife. Medha aunty brought our families together once again. Till date, I regard her as one of the most vivacious, positive and loving women I have known in my life. We started to meet once every few years in what became regular family vacations. Each get together would entail travel and exploration to some part of India...and was marked by fun, laughter and gaiety. Medha aunty's children became my friends and my childhood memories are full of tales of the three friends - my parents and Sharad uncle - and their bachelor days in USSR.
Several years later, I found myself in Pune where I went for my Master's degree. Naturally, I would stay in Sharad uncle and Medha aunty's house as I looked for accommodation and started my coursework. Over the next two years, they became my parents away from home. Soon they engulfed my friends in their loving embrace and we would frequent their house to relish Medha aunty's cooking as she prepared to feed a pack of hungry beasts who would eat like they had not seen food in years! She and Sharad uncle would sometimes come for an 'inspection' of our bachelor quarters, resulting in hectic activity for us as the two room apartment would be scrubbed clean and precious 'evidence' removed before their arrival. Of course, they fully expected the pre-visit sanitisation and many jokes were cracked on what had been hidden! During the course of my studies in Pune, I developed a special bond with Sharad uncle and Medha aunty. Later, even as my work took me to different cities, I stayed in touch with them. The run up to my marriage was marred by tremendous strife at home, which eventually led me to move out of my parent's house. As always, Medha aunty and Sharad uncle were present and they brought comfort and joy to our family.
Sharad uncle had contracted Parkinson's disease. I would get to see him once every couple of years and there would be some deterioration in his condition. However, when we met, I always found him to be his usual affable self and enquire after us. In the evenings, we would share a drink together. A few years ago, my institute honored me by presenting me an award as the alumni of the year. I was invited to a function to mark the occasion. I requested Sharad uncle and Medha aunty to join my wife and me for the ceremony. I was surprised by the large gathering and the solemnity, wondering what I had done to deserve the attention. When I was unexpectedly called to address the gathering, my thoughts turned towards the front row where I found them beaming with pride. With some emotion, I acknowledged the role they had played during my crucial years at the institute...and I saw tears in their eyes as the gathering collectively applauded their presence.
Over the next few years, Sharad uncle's speech slurred and he spoke lesser. Often, Medha aunty would act as his translator. His movement became unsure and he encountered injuries due to his frequent falls. Other complications developed. Through all this, Medha aunty was the pillar, caring after his every need and even tending to his business affairs.
Last September when I was in Delhi, my father had a blackout in the bathroom which resulted in a neck fracture. Given that it had occurred in the aftermath of his strokes, there was reason to be concerned. I got a call from Medha aunty asking if they could visit us...Sharad uncle needed to see his friend. It was a shock as I saw him, a frail man, being wheeled out of the airport. He could not walk even a few steps without support and it was really difficult to understand what he was saying. He had traveled through some pain. The smile was unchanged. We spent a wonderful week together…the evening tradition of a drink remained, though I was careful in pouring him a tiny one. Despite everything, it was interesting, even comical, to see the friends interact and we had a laugh over the game of chess between my father and him. They struggled to remember the moves, needing intervention from the ladies! As I bid them farewell, we talked about getting together in Singapore soon. We knew it would be precarious for him to travel, but we were keen to be together again.
Two weeks ago, just when I reached my hotel room in Chicago, I got a call I had not imagined receiving so soon. Sharad uncle had died in his sleep. I could not fight back the tears and memories flashed before me. Medha aunty was strong as ever...even in her pain, she consoled me. He had suffered greatly the past few days and the passing had been quiet and peaceful, much like the life he had led.
I called my mother to break the news. In his passing, there was a deep sense of loss. I grieved not just for him, but also for the friendship that he had shared with my parents over forty five years. I remember him for his constant presence in our lives, for his soft nature, for his smile...
Rest In Peace, Sharad Uncle.
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