The Rat Race

When you start running, you think you see the finish line. And you don't run, you sprint; because its a 100m race. If you stop, scores of people would outrun you. Tens are already ahead. Your foremost aim is to get past them. Forget everything else, there are people ahead. If you get past them, you're ahead, on the road to victory. After all, its a 100m race.

... except that it isn't. That finish line you saw was just a checkpoint. The sprinters would eventually tire, and slow. Some would stop. But the race is long, and at the end, it is only with yourself.

We know it all so well. But still we sprint. It is easy trying to get past the one ahead. But it is difficult to make up your mind to run that long, maybe even the extra mile. It is amazing how it all boils down to such a simple fact... that we so easily turn a blind eye to.

You have wasted a lot of precious time in reading this post now. Run, my friend, run!

Perspectives

It was a cool night in an industrial fair and I was dawdling around watching people. I like to be alone in public and watch people. I fantasize myself as a philosopher who sees more in a crowd than a callous mass of people scuttling around blabbering strange languages. But for that, I need a subject. And that particular night, mediocre faces and tired people are all I saw. I was getting bored of the exercise and just considering giving it up in favor of a good movie when I saw her.

She wasn’t one of those beautiful, cute or innocent faces that make you stand and stare, nor was she sensuous enough to make a guy drool. But she was strong; maybe sometimes headstrong, very sure of herself and very happy. If something overshadowed her strength of character, it was her wide smile and light step. As I scuttled forward to catch glimpses of her between the thickets of people, I couldn’t help smiling myself. As I watched her delve deeper into the crowd, I followed her a few steps behind and started weaving her story.

“24, maybe 27” I said to myself; “brought up in a city, maybe Delhi”, her dressing sense told me. I have been to enough Indian cities to tell one’s people from the other. And you can always tell a Delhi girl from a Mumbai girl. When you see one dressed to kill, flaunt what she has and tease you on working day mornings, you know you’re in Mumbai. Delhi is more of casuals and comfort wear. Of course there are intricacies and there are exceptions. But my experience told me this was Delhi material.

She stopped by a small woman selling baskets. I went and stood at an adjoining stall and lent an ear. She was bargaining sweetly for a couple of rupees. I would have loved to deduce “lower middle class”; but her sweetness baffled me. Then, she settled for a price and paid, thanked the woman with a smile and went off clutching two small baskets.

It was then I noticed a college identity card poking out of the back pocket of her jeans. That confirmed her age for sure, but didn’t explain the baskets. I followed her around as she bought a couple more trinkets from small stalls while conspicuously ignoring the larger ones. Her ways intrigued as much as angered me. Nothing fell in place. Even after half an hour of watching, I did not have any conclusion on her story.

Suddenly I bumped into someone. I recovered a little angry for my broken chain of thoughts when I found I was staring right at her. She looked at me from inches away and breathed right onto my face. It was then I realized that lost in thoughts, I had bumped right into my subject. I mumbled an apology and moved on. Just as I turned around to see her again, I saw her waving to a toddler on his father’s shoulders. I watched her face for a minute. Her expressions were telling her story, but I did not understand.

Then it hit me. The whole picture came before me, and the strands fell into place. It felt as if just her expressions could spell it out. I could see a little girl from a poor family, who struggled at every step to study; taken advantage of and eyed by the wolves of the society. But she did not yield. Instead, this hardened her heart and made her determination even stronger. And today, she has what she had struggled for all along. And she has come to celebrate it in her solitude within the milling crowd. Her heart is filled not only with happiness of success, but a tinge of mirth for those who pulled her down. She knows she’s on a road to success. But deep in her heart, she’ll always remember where she came from.

* * *

Dear Diary,

It has been a hectic semester and kept me busy. But finally, I decided enough was enough and I needed a break! I went to a fair today; even though my friends wouldn’t come along saying it was too silly. Sometimes, it is good to be silly, isn’t it? Well, it was fun even alone. I bought a couple of baskets; simply because, I couldn’t find anything better and didn’t want to come empty handed. The best part is that I think I finally learned how to bargain.

The stalls all sold stupid stuff that won’t even last a couple of days. However, I had some things to buy and so I stopped at the mall while coming back.

Strangely, there was a creepy man following me all along. At first, I thought that a lone girl in a fair was giving him ideas. But then, he bumped into me and didn’t even try to grope. Even his apology sounded sincere and flustered. But this was far from comforting as he turned even creepier after that. Anyway, I left right after with no harm done. But who knows? If I see him one more time, I’m going to call the police for sure.

Enough of him now and for my tomorrow’s schedule. I have got a couple of classes and an assignment to do. But that is pretty much it. I think I can afford to sleep late tomorrow.

Good Night

Perspective View of a City

You never really know a city. Especially one that has been around for centuries ; it can spring surprises even for its long time dwellers. And it is simple logic. You say a person has his story and a building has its own story. Multiply that by scores of thousands and lo... you get a city. You cannot even dream to decipher all its secrets, see all its facets and explore all its corners. But there is a depth at which a traveler settles for.

I recently spent a couple of months in Vadodara, Gujarat. Basically a business trip; and hence I had very little time to see around. All I saw was the office space, hotel lobbies and rooms; and all I met was prim consultants, formally dressed clients or the hotel service at their most courteous persona. Apart from that, the place looked ordinary enough. I could have been in any other part of India to wake up to the same sight and smells. But this did not make sense for a city like Vadodara. I must be wrong somewhere.

So one fine Sunday, I set out armed with a camera in hand and a heart of Columbus to explore the city on foot. It was a warm and sunny winter morning with the harsh light exposing every hidden color. And then it dawned onto me. The depth at which a traveler settles for- the soul of the city. Two hundred year old palatial buildings staring multi storied apartment buildings in the eye; kingly statues and oriental gardens adorning traffic circles busy with the latest Honda's and Mercedes and BMW's. It was a wonderful mixture of old and new.

Fortunately for me, it was the kite flying season; and the kite festival was just round the corner. The old city was a riot of colors- kites of all shapes sizes and colors with a dash of pink manja spinning on a drum. And all this right in front of the fast food outlets, mobile phone sales/service/repair and "More" supermarkets. That felt like nowhere else I have visited.

But it also revealed something about the people of the city. Vadodara is still that traditional city with typical Gujarati lifestyle, an affinity for honest business and an all embracing culture. However, the bout of industrialization has ushered in a metropolitan culture as well. And this, rather than dissolving in the local culture, has been lying layered on the top- like oil on water. In effect, you see two faces of the city- the outer glitter of an emerging metropolis and an underlying traditional lifestyle.

I do not know if this change is for the better or worse. But what I do know is that the city of Vadodara has its own identity and a distinctive culture which gives the place its beauty and charm. I sure hope that this is not lost in the endeavor to grow and develop.

The Dilbert Principle

A cubicle eye view of the corporate company is not a solitary perspective. Cubicles are inhabited by beings differing in objectives, insights and sometimes even species. This is the reason why Dilbert style analysis is not an everyday affair.

Most of the cubicle community consists of wannabe leaders who figure out that the fastest way to leadership is falling in line. And more often than not, a dash of hard work combined with myopic vision helps. If all your thoughts are focused on the next step, on the next rung of the ladder, there is little chance that you’d miss it. The idea is: If you stay in the line long enough, people would join behind you. And lo! You are a leader. But then, even the line ahead of you is long. So you are just stuck there... ranting about those leading you and making life difficult for those who follow you.

On the other hand, people who make it to the top of the ladder have figured out a way to bypass the line. Hence, by corollary, there are few leaders who actually have had an objective look at the company from their cubicle window. They shot up too fast. Hence, there is a clear dissociation between the "management" and “associates” of a company.

This is never a good thing. The value chain of any company flows right through these ground level cubicle dwellers and this value chain is guided and strengthened by the management. The ultimate result is that the guys on the top apply a complex set of management principles and concepts formulated by pinheads like Peter Drucker, dwelling on assumptions based on their limited visibility and understanding of their cubicle days.

Now there are some facts we know to be facts out of the sheer extent of their acceptance. For example: The biggest advantage big companies have over smaller and lesser experienced companies in terms of quality of work is that the former have well defined and robust accumulating their years of experience. These processes are designed and perfected by the upper and top management. Sometimes, the middle management may be asked to give “inputs”. But that is the lowest it can reach.

Since we understand from the previous discussion that managers have a limited visibility of the actual processes at the ground level, we can draw that these processes have a huge scope of improvement. And this can be brought about only by a right mix of skill, expertise and experience. Too much of any of them would be like too much of salt, sugar or spice. It might be interesting, and it might come out good by accident. But it'll never replace the recipe.