We have come a long way Baby

It started as it always does, the casual touch of a hand, the sideways glance conferring more meaning than a tome. Words left unspoken, expressions that belied emotions, and all of these overshadowed by the fear of rejection. From that small seed of attraction decades ago, dictated more by pheromones and raging hormones, grew a tree that shades all else in my life. That seed was planted 15 years ago to the day, and looking back this magnificent tree owes its very existence to one person. This article is for my wife, or should I say my best friend, my companion, my backbone and my life partner.

For a relationship to have seen the back end of over 17 years (of which 15 are certified) is no small feat. These 17 years have seen us through quite a few ups and downs and looking back I wonder at it all. I feel like laughing at the doubts and the tribulations that now seen through the lens of hindsight seem so insignificant. I reflect on the good times already past with serendipity, and dream of the great times ahead. I look around me and take stock of my life, and every aspect, in fact, every cell of every building block of every aspect, and I see her stamp on it. Everything I have built, the entire edifice of my life has been hoisted by the untiring support and unstinting love showered on me by her. Many times the young sapling was on the verge of being uprooted by the gale force winds around it. It bent and twisted, was almost uprooted, but stood its ground. It bounced upright every time the wind abated and as its roots spread and as its trunk grew wide, it became strong.

It is difficult enough to be a pillar of support; it is made tougher still when you are made to feel that it is not necessary. For the most part of these years, that is the way I made her feel - loved but not needed, desired but not required. For a woman who derives her comfort and security from being needed, that was the unkindest cut of all. She has always been there for me, always in my shadow. I had but to voice, and my want became her command. In that shadowy place she survived, sustained, evolved to one day emerge, molded into what to me is perfection. I don't know how she did it, because even the hardiest of plants would find it difficult to survive let alone bloom in that murky place that my shadow cast. Many is the time that she wept herself to sleep, with not a word of comfort or solace. Her pride was such that she kept her grief to herself, as day passed day, and month passed month, alone in her insecurities and fears. Through those years, she stood steadfast, with a smile on her lips and hurt (that only I could see) in her eyes. Suppliant but resolute, her sorrow whitewashed by a ready laugh and a beaming smile (that over the years has won over many), she never left my side. Her soft hand was always there for me to grasp whenever I needed.

Of course there were periodic eruptions, some of gargantuan scale, but they always simmered down. By and large her placid and happy nature bore her through. In that high pressure environment, the very carbon in her atoms was slowly compressed over time into diamond. The caterpillar broke out of her chrysalis to emerge a butterfly - iridescent with colors and beautiful as only a creature of God can be. It has definitely not been an easy ride, nor has it been all fun. Relationships are the strongest that have been forged in the fires of torment, and to have come out reborn as tough as tempered steel. Over this time she worked her insidious magic so that today I cannot take a step without her being there. Her presence is all that it takes to soothe away my tensions, and the magic of her hands abates even a torrid fever. Her laugh, her unending chatter over the phone, the patter of her feet as she walks briskly around the house, her hand in mine when times are tough, her caress on my forehead as I drift off to sleep, her ability to always remind me of what is really important in life, her disdain for the trappings of wealth and her love for all mankind, all of these and many more are the traits that I love so dearly.

Having made it through the turbulence of these first few years, the road ahead looks smooth. There will for sure be bumps and humps ahead, just as there will be dangers lurking around every corner, but with her hand in mine, the journey ahead becomes an adventure. To take liberties with the old Virginia Slims advert - We have come a long way baby, but it is only because YOU have come a long way baby, and brought me along with you.

It never rains

What a difference a few weeks makes. Could anybody have imagined the state of what has transpired in the last few weeks? Are we yet aware of the full ramifications or the extent of the impact of the financial meltdown that we have witnessed now? Will this period go down in economic history, wherein a hundred years later people will talk of the Global financial collapse of 2008, in the same breath as the one in 1929? I really am in no position to answer these questions that come to my mind, but I do want to write the impact of these events as seen through my own insignificant eyes.

A few weeks ago, many just as I, would have thought about financial independence. Not a worry in the world and everything going to plan. Leveraging was the order of the day and everyone around me was talking like a wealthy man. Wealth was growing and picking appreciating stocks or property, was like shooting fish in a barrel. Rarely was the day when any bad news percolated out in the Financial press. Oil was raging away, threatening to touch US$ 200 a barrel, and for most that was just a theoretical number with no consequence on their lifestyles. The sub-prime crisis had unfolded months ago, but such was the hubris that we shrugged it away, sure in the knowledge that alls well in this world. In fact a few weeks earlier, I was in Mumbai and talking to close friends about retirement, and possibly doing something different in a couple of years. Even though there were economic storm clouds on the horizon, we could not see them. The Sensex had hit highs, come down and then resurged. Everything was temporary, consumption was the order of the day and life was meant to be lived to the hilt.

In the last few weeks however, talking to quite a few people in Dubai and elsewhere, the common theme is the disappearance of the dream. Along with the financial pain suddenly looms the horror of a recession leading to retrenchments across industries. If you are in a job, there is a good chance that either you or someone you know is going to be axed. If you have your own business, then you know that the heydays are behind you as consumers across the world are tightening their belts. (My own current employer announced retrenchments and though I have survived the first cut, the sword stills hangs overhead.) The press is drumming up all the bad news it can get its hands on, spreading further panic and fear. Organisations are tripping over each other in their enthusiasm to report bad tidings, blaming consumers, government regulation (or deregulation), the market, anything but themselves, as if that would exorcise them from the responsibility of their decisions. The vapid statements of assurance from leaders and politicians alike, have done nothing to soothe the collective paranoia. Suddenly no one can see any redemption ahead. The same people who were stridently claiming that oil would touch US$ 200 p/bbl are talking about a floor below US$ 20. The bulls are in their pens now, and the bears are having a field day.

Cash has suddenly become king. All the people who were trumpeting the virtues of the stock market or property as an investment are now conspicuously silent. Having spoken to a few sages in the Banking industry and also in the investment banking divisions, all I get are confused expressions as they scratch their heads in wonder. My investment advisors who used to hound me every few months to invest more with them, based on their amazing skill in increasing my fortune during the good times have now run for the hills. If I do get one of them on the phone, their only excuse when asked to explain the tatters of a portfolio, is that everyone is in the same state. These were the same ones, who last year took all the credit for their stock picks.

I am of the firm opinion that we are all idiots led by fools. All of the Bankers, property consultants and investment advisors know as little as any of us, they only get paid better. They use financial gobbledygook to hide their ignorance, and basically mouth statements that they have picked up in that mornings financial press. I am thankful that a very small portion of my portfolio was in the hands of these morons. My own performance (even if only slightly) has been better. Coming out of this, if and when I do have enough to invest, I will for sure never ever (ever!!) go to any investment advisor again. Far be it from me to say that my own performance has been flawless. It has been pretty dismal. My decisions (or the lack thereof), at the very least were "my" decisions. I learned from them unlike the decisions of advisors, from which I learnt nothing (other than not to trust them in future).

As I look around me I feel a strange sense of peace. I am obviously standing on the edge of a precipice, but knowing that does not deter or frighten me. Instead I feel strangely confident. After years, I feel I can stand up and look ahead without fear. Having been in the shelter of a safe port all my life had made me soft and weak. The choppy waters of the open ocean fascinated me, but I looked at it with deep seated trepidation. Survival was not guaranteed. Now I have set sail and even though it has been a short journey so far, it has given me confidence. Will I not be thrown overboard? Will I not fear for my family and my own life? Of course I will. But I will come up and I will swim harder. In the words of William Ernest Henley

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the Captain of my soul.

If and when we all do come out of this period, we will be stronger and wiser. My logic is that having walked the path once, the next time around it can only get easier. Of course this feeling does not just come from me. No man is an island, and in my case it comes from the solidity of my wife’s unflinching support, and the mature understanding of my children to whom we have always spoken as adults. I have written more than once, about my extended family, whose support make me feel like I have an army behind my back.

I don’t know about you all, but it has definitely rained on my parade over the last month or so. But I see the glimmer of the sun peeping out from behind the clouds, and as the radiance spreads, it lifts my spirit and gets me ready to face a new dawn.

Are You Happy?

Having recently started to write again, I have been trying to pound away at the keyboard to get some thoughts down on this one. The following article is one of the toughest that I have written so far, and for a couple of reasons. One is that the concept itself has been quite difficult to articulate adequately, and two because I am not absolutely clear about where I stand myself. This of course does not mean that everyone is not clear on this issue. Maybe the vast majority of people are very certain of where they stand, though I am not.

A couple of weeks ago my son and I were walking down to the supermarket, when he asked me what seemed like a very innocuous question. He turned to me and said - Dad, are you happy? Of course the urge to respond was immediate. However something made me hesitate before I answered - probably my natural compulsion to hedge on giving definitive responses. And that one moment made me delve deep inside myself to seek the truth of how I felt. That one moment was all it took to have the question burn itself into my mind - a question which I still find difficult to answer unequivocally.

I have debated, in between the complete spectrum of yes and no, and finding no definitive answer have also resorted to questioning the question itself. This is not a fair question - is it? I mean, don’t we always express happiness in terms of a specific thing? Maybe it is because my son asked this question, and he did not know any better than to ask it. How many times have you asked this question to others or have it asked to you? To be honest, in my experience, never! The proper question would be - are you happy with whatever, and that whatever could be anything from your last meal, to your day, your new car, your colleagues etc. In that perspective it is easy to answer in the definitive and there is no stigma or deeper meaning attached to the answer.

However the same question asked in general, takes on a whole new meaning. Now it starts to encompass every sphere of one’s life, and who would have the arrogance to answer in the definitive yes, and who the guts to give an unequivocal no? Forget responding to someone else - how many of us can even answer truthfully to ourselves? When I ask myself that question, I really have no answer. I am happy about quite a few specific aspects in my life, and like most others would like to change a few others. But that does not result in overall happiness or unhappiness. Let me try and clarify what each response would indicate to someone on the receiving end.

Let us start with a wholehearted yes. This simple affirmative means that one is happy in all aspects of one’s life - be it health, career, family, relationships, friendships, finances, etc. This person believes that they are in the absolutely right place and given the option would change not one teeny tiny element in their life. They have no regrets about the past, and importantly enough, it goes without saying that there is not a cloud on their horizon, as they look into their future. No major stresses that keep them awake, no worries to blot their serendipity. They fully expect that life will not blindside them, and even if it does, divine intervention or their own innate ability will handle any curved balls that will be thrown their way.

On the other hand would anyone be willing to confess to being unhappy in general? If so why continue, why persevere with living unless there is hope to turn the situation around? The pall of gloom is expected to lift and the clouds clear away. There are always aspects of our lives, even when we are down in the dumps which keep us floating, give us sustenance, like a jewel tucked away from the clutches of thieves who have taken everything else.

The emotion of happiness or its opposite unhappiness, is reactionary by nature. We are happy when things are going as per plan, unhappy when something changes them. The emotion is also relative by nature, i.e. if we are caught in a traffic jam we are happy if we can outpace the car ahead of us, and unhappy if someone behind overtakes us. The fact that we are all caught in a traffic snarl is lost on us.

I would think that all of us have experienced moments on both sides of the spectra, in our lives. There would have been times of absolute ecstasy when just about everything seemed right with the world. We might also have gone through times of despair, when all seemed lost (these times are normally dulled by memory). Both of these are two sides of the same coin. One cannot experience one without having lived through the other. Without getting acquainted with sorrow, one would not recognize joy even if it came and slapped one in the face.

Maybe extremes of this emotion are felt more in our earlier years and as we grow older, mature, and acquire wisdom (hopefully), our emotional spectrum diminishes. It does not fluctuate as much, which keeps our lives on a more even keel, and prevents us from making irrational decisions late in, or probably all through our lives. Maybe as our skepticism and cynicism increases, our passions diminish in tandem. Experience makes us wiser and as we go through the various stages of our lives, we are maybe subconsciously diminishing the arc within which the pendulum sways so that, though we might never experience absolute and unadulterated joy, we also avoid the trauma of clinical depression. It could be that the more appropriate question to ask, would be the reverse i.e. are you unhappy? Then maybe most of us would say no. Maybe happiness is a more aspirational emotion, something that we work towards, but never achieve. Or maybe the right term would be ephemeral - just when you thought you grasped it, it evaporates like a dream in the cold light of day. Maybe happiness for each of us is just a step away from where we currently stand. If only we had “this” or could get “that”, if only "this" could change or "that" could go away, then we would be happier. I do know that there are lots of hypochondriacs, alarmists, perfectionists who could never be able to answer in the positive. Same goes with highly driven individuals, who will always feel they are one step away from their goal, whether professionally or personally, which keeps them from true contentment. Maybe we are more comfortable expressing our state of happiness at a point in time, rather than over a period of time.

My wife, being asked to vet this article before I published it commented, that this article could lead to the perception that I am not happy. In light of what has happened in the last few days in terms of the global economic meltdown, I wonder whether there are too many people out there who can profess to be ecstatic today ha ha.

Having given it more thought though, I feel that maybe it is a fair question to ask. I am content with my life, love my wife, my kids and my family. Have great friends with whom I really enjoy hanging out with. I really do not have any major regrets from the past and have a very optimistic view of the future. It still remains an extremely difficult question to answer, at least for me. Maybe I am reading too much into the question and maybe most of you would have no problems in answering it. For you then, you would never understand the brouhaha.

So then, are you happy?

Chalk and Cheese

It has been sometime since I have last written a blog, and to be honest the urge to write has been dampened by the events of the last 2 weeks or so. But having gone this distance I would very much like to continue to write and post, and hopefully have a small fraternity of regular readers. It would be a shame if some of my loyal readers stop reading my blog, just because they get tired of logging in to find nothing new to read. Also, I have written this article entirely in first person, (probably the only one so far) as opposed to my preference for writing in the third person. This means that it has a liberal peppering of the word "I".

To say that my life has been turned around, would be an understatement. I am well known as a person who has not been entirely friendly to change over the years. A few stellar examples to support that statement, would be the fact that it took me over 13 years to change my car, and almost 14 years to change jobs. I have been living in the same building for over 15 years, and when we did decide to move to a bigger apartment a few years ago, it was just down the corridor from where we lived before. Now I do not know whether any of you are seeing a trend here, but having changed two out of the above three elements, the third element i.e. my residence, might soon succumb to this new drive to embrace change, that I have recently acquired. Unfortunately however these changes have also had an impact on other facets of my life. My exercise routine, my family time, my diet etc. are ones that I would have preferred to shield from any perturbation, but I have been unsuccessful so far. The advantage of having a very routine and orderly life is the focus that one can keep on the elements of one's life that one needs to maintain. But then as a wise man once said - one cannot have everything!!

Now I do know from the numerous phone calls, emails and sms messages over the last fortnight, that a lot of my family, friends, and ex-colleagues are concerned about my transition into my new job, and are keen to know how I have been coping. And this article to a large extent is to address those concerns and curiosity. If there is a question about any residual bitterness around my decision to leave my previous employers, I would like to state now that nothing could be further from the truth. My previous employers have been more than fair with me, and the manner of my leaving and the way I have been treated could not have been better. I am in constant touch with all my friends and colleagues, managers and bosses, so many of whom are concerned about me and my decision. So I have anything BUT bitter memories.

However do I regret leaving? Absolutely not. I like where I am and I like what I am doing - even though by most standards, in organisational terms I have taken a step down, from a mansion to a hut. But I have realised that a hut is what makes me happy, a palace is not really for me. I did not feel as if I belonged in a palace. All through my career with my previous employer, I felt like the worlds best cricketer on a football field - basically in the wrong game. The only regret is that I should have taken this decision earlier - but I console myself by thinking that maybe I took it when I was ready. The truth of the matter is to know what we want and pursue that. I do not feel tied down by my decision, and if I stop liking where I am today or change my mind, I will leave and try again somewhere else. I however will not keep enduring. Life is too short to live in misery and in regrets. I have been fortunate in that I have (just recently) achieved a bit of clarity in what I want. I want to live in Dubai as long as I can, be close to Bombay, enjoy what I do, earn a decent wage, and not make my work my end game. I do not crave for a big house, or a fancy car, or lavish holidays and fine dining and eating out. I have no problems with my middle class life, and knowing this about myself, I can take better decisions about what I need to do. My big problem for a very long time was, that even when I knew what I should have been doing - I just never did it. I have changed that aspect, and I hope I can keep it that way.

As regards the new organisation, it is really too early to tell, but I am a great believer in gut instinct, and that instinct has largely been solidified. My experiences over the last few days have been enough to get a feel of where I stand and whether or not I will be able to cope. Let me start with a huge salvo - I have learned more in the last 10 days or so, than I learned in the last 5 years. Before you jump in to state that learning is incumbent on the individual, and that there were no obstacles to my learning over those years, let me say that I agree. Learning is definitely our own responsibility, but I do believe that learning is most effective when it is relevant. Relevance comes from varying imperatives, be it job requirements, updating your technical skills, professional requirements, personal interests, insecurity etc. But there is for each of us, a particular motive or driver, internal or external, to learn and keep learning. And from a purely professional perspective, I had lost the desire to learn. Everything I learned and all skills I acquired over the last few years had been driven by my personal needs. On the other hand my learning over the last few weeks has been driven by professional necessity. The knowledge acquired in the last 10 days or so, and to be acquired over the next few months, will be to keep my nose above the water. I will need that initially to survive and then to deliver value.

Since I am now in an entirely new industry, and that too real estate, it has driven me to learn as much as I can. This is also driven by my personal motives, considering the investment that I have made in the Dubai property market. To know how this business operates, how the entire value chain unfolds from beginning to end, has been a key motivation in my choice of jobs. It has been fascinating so far, and I hope that the learning and the ability to translate the same for both professional and personal gain, will continue for some time into the future.

The next big change has been the operating environment, which is as different from my previous employer as chalk is to cheese. In this rough and tumble world if I can survive and then flourish, I do feel that I can manage almost anywhere. The people, the culture, the approach and the decision making are very very different, and it needs an entirely new mind-set to settle into it. There are lots of rough edges, things are not as orderly and "nice" as they were, respect for people is definitely on the lower side and HSSE is just about becoming awareness. Personnel policies and procedures are either non-existent or in a stage of infancy. Diversity and inclusiveness are not even in the corporate lexicon.

80 to 85% of the staff is new, both to the organisation and to Dubai, and there is a strange sense of all sailing in the same boat. Every person that I have met and spoken to has different objectives, imperatives and desires out of the job that they do, and that sheer variety is by itself so different from the drivers that kept people going, in my previous organisation. Career aspirations have hardly been voiced so far, and most people have much shorter time frames and horizons than I had experienced earlier. Every day is a new experience and I hardly know what I will be expected to be doing and where I will be. Quite literally the amount of time we have played corporate musical chairs, I really do not know where I will be asked to sit tomorrow morning.

Decisions are taken at light speed, and still feel as if they were not fast enough. This is not a company for the faint hearted - that is for sure. You are now in a boxing ring with no referees, and the only way to survive is to come out of your corner swinging. If you get knocked down you get up and start again, since there is no one to pick you up and take you to your corner. There are no processes to support you as an individual, and it is left very much to you as to how you approach your job, and initiative is definitely at a premium.

When I think back to just about a month ago, my life was so orderly and defined. Going to work was so comfortable. I knew most of the answers, and even if I did not, people were too gracious to point it out. I decided the tempo at which I worked and there was immense patience for all. This world (for me) has evaporated. I have to pinch myself now as to whether it ever existed ha ha. But my transition has been made easy by just one, and only one thing, my mind-set. My mental preparation over the last few months, before I started this assignment was critical to my ability to adapt to the new environment. It might seem easy, and quite natural, but it was not. The emotional peaks and troughs, the doubts, the fears mixed up with the certainty and then the exhilaration to face a new future, were all symptoms of the internal processes at work, getting me ready for the day when it dawned.

So for all my ex-colleagues who might be thinking of moving from a comfortable environment to a more difficult one, the only thing I can tell you, is that it can be done. If I can do it, anyone can. But it does need mental preparation, and of course support from your family, friends, and colleagues, which I was blessed with in ample quantities.

The Light of Other Days

I have a sense of urgency in writing and finishing this article that I have not experienced in earlier ones. I want to complete this one before I start my new assignment in a couple of days. And the reason is simple - I do not want to have my thoughts and emotions at this juncture tainted by my experiences in the new job. I want to diarize my thoughts as of today, so that a few years down the road, I will understand and maybe refresh the motivations and drivers which led me to disrupt my life so immensely. To add to that is also the fact, that I do not know when next I will get the time to pen a few lines and post the same. What follows is a dump of many personal conversations, and contents of my farewell speeches, which to a large extent addressed the questions revolving around my decision to leave my previous employer.

I did mention in my farewell speech in the office on Sep 11th that this was probably the single most difficult decision I have taken in my life. After almost 14 years in an organisation, and especially one so benign, it takes quite a bit of courage and maybe a bit of madness to voluntarily take the leap. Over the last 3 months of my notice period I have vacillated from excitement about the future on one end, to abject fear and disbelief at the other. And as my thoughts have fluctuated, so have my responses to queries raised, about any regrets vis a vis my decision. Some days I would have absolute clarity and conviction about my decision, and on others grave doubts.

As this continued, I gave a lot of thought to these swings, to better understand the underlying factors, and realized that working in any organisation, impacts two very distinct spheres in your life - the personal and the professional. And the consequences of my decision on these two spheres being very different, resulted in my confusion. On the personal front, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I would have regrets. To sever the ties and relationships built up over so many years, to walk away from the credibility built up, the knowledge base and the comfort zone within which I functioned would be difficult. To add to that were factors very important to me, like my lunch time exercise routine, the bi-weekly exercise classes, the flexible working hours, the ability to telecommute at will, and very little if no overtime, which would be hard to replace. Also difficult to replicate anywhere else would be the twice a day official tea breaks with the eclectic discussions ranging from cricket to politics, with colleagues who were more like friends, and the feeling of entering the office every morning as if I am stepping into my home away from home. The aforementioned factors, combined with the absence of work related pressure made it into a working utopia. All of these perks and many more would be difficult to wean myself away from.

I was always of the belief that friends were like wine - the good ones were of older vintage. My wife and I have disagreed on this point often over the years. She was always of the view that good friends come into your life at all times, and there is no minimum time commitment that forges a relationship. There is no de-minimus period required to grow the bonds of friendship. Reflecting now on the friends that I have acquired in the last few years, I know that I was completely wrong. In the last few years I have been privileged enough to have developed relationships that I would hope to nurture well into the future. And it is not only the depth of these friendships, but also the quantum that surprises me. To have touched so many people and to be touched by so many back is no small feat. The affection and support extended to me has been overwhelming, and having basked in them in the last few days, reminds me of the old Julie Andrews song - somewhere in my youth or childhood; I must have done something good - to deserve the same.

So from a personal point of view, taking the above into consideration, it was pretty obvious that I would have grave doubts about my decision to move on.

Then of course there is the professional sphere, the more I think of which, makes me realize that I should have walked away a long time ago. I had been treading my way towards a professional dead-end for a long time, and continued to do so despite knowing this. There is no one to blame but myself. My subconscious decision earlier on, and a very conscious one now, to stay on in Dubai, which is home to me and my family, has cost me dear in terms of career. Mobility and a varied geographic experience are highly valued (rightfully so) commodities in a multinational organisation, and having neither, does put a brake on ones progression. There was always the option to coast along, to carry on doing non-jobs till I decided what else I would like to do. But the problem with that is that though one can reconcile one’s self to career suicide, what becomes difficult to accept, as time goes along, is the feeling of becoming irrelevant. As newer and younger talent comes along, you start to be perceived as a has-been, a unique entity, more to be tolerated and endured rather than respected. You become the veteran, the old timer, the keeper of corporate trivia. You are seen as a repository of information, to be accessed at will. As the fount of historical information, it becomes convenient to direct every question at you, and your own questions, more often than not, are also left to you.

As I tried to plot my (corporate) life ahead, I foresaw only a graveyard of my career in the future. I saw a long sequence of uninteresting, tedious and unchallenging roles taking me all the way to oblivion. Retirement would also be a pipedream as the company’s patience with my ilk would get thinner by the day. Retirement is not a feasible option anymore, it is an anachronism in this day and age, and the number of people who will be able to enjoy that luxury is dwindling by the day.

Organizational changes over the last few years have made it almost impossible to envision interesting jobs in the future. Outsourcing of IT, Finance and HR jobs, frequent business restructures, cutbacks, disposal of assets and facilities, increases in specialist roles and silos within functions, all now converge towards tedium. Upcoming jobs are attractive to a certain type of personality, but not to professionals who cut their teeth in jobs that demanded a wide variety of experience and skill sets. Senior management quite vehemently deny staff’s pushback that in the new world their jobs will be narrower in scope and content and hence uninteresting. In point of fact their continuous propaganda about a future with very challenging and interesting roles only heightens the uneasiness in the proletariat. Personally, I have found it increasingly difficult to identify any roles that would whet my appetite, and keep me motivated.

It is quite ironical that an organisation that on one hand empowers its people so much on the personal front, can on the other hand makes it so difficult for them to get on with their work. Employees are allowed to keep their own timings, their expenses claims are self approved, granting of leave is unfettered, and no expense is spared to tackle any work related stress. But to get work done, the employee has to jump through all sorts of hoops and hurdles. Consensus building and convening meetings to take even minor decisions are the order of the day, and to implement a pragmatic solution involves getting buy-in from a huge multiplicity of stakeholders. Systemic incompetence and ineptitude are masked by a proliferation of specialists whose assent is required to make fundamental and basic decisions. Business urgencies are shrugged off, by citing other priorities, and if one is more insistent in asking for a decision, then one gets mired in a host of queries and clarifications to get the approval, thereby delaying the process anyway. Job authorities over the years have been whittled down, and with the break-up of the organisation into global business divisions and within those divisions into separate units, responsibilities are diminished in tandem. Just as an example within my business, to take a simple decision would require the assent of 4 separate Finance Managers, not counting my own line.

The focus on processes rather than on objectives, the lack of accountability, the creation of complexities to hide inefficiencies, make a great organisation particularly vulnerable. It was time for me to stop the petty griping, to stem the involuntary sarcasm at every new initiative, and more worryingly to cut off the negative impact of any corrosive influence on newer staff members. It was time for me to vote with my feet. It was time to leave with dignity rather than wait to get pushed out without grace.

Two Plus Two Equals Five

Dear reader, before you start reading this article, let me caution you that though this is one of my shorter articles (in words), the topic being rather dry, may make it seem much longer. I do apologise for that.

Serving out my notice period has allowed me a lot of time to reflect and think about terminations, resignations and corporate moves of similar ilk. Three months is a long time by any standard and as my email traffic slowly grinds down, my disposable time has proportionately increased. I have spent a good bit of that time talking and discussing corporations, human capital and organisations facing brain drain, with my office colleagues. What is commonly agreed is that just like its customer base, it is much more expensive for an organisation to replace people, than it is to retain its talent. Of course when we talk of costs, I had been thinking in (one-dimensional) terms of money and the cash cost of replacement. However, what I have come to understand, is that the real cost to the organisation is much more than just financial.

There are three types of leavers, the ones who evoke the “good riddance” emotion, some others who get the “who was he anyway?” response, and finally the ones who get the “Oh no” reaction. For good forms sake, I will be referring to the “Oh no” category from now on. Every time a good resource leaves a high performing team, it destabilizes the Team and the processes they handled. It raises serious questions in the minds of the people left behind, and very often creates a domino effect in terms of others also wanting or thinking of moving on. Even though they might not actually leave, there is a discernable tilt towards looking around them and outside, or weighing options, which then could lead to something more concrete. Team dynamics do not always follow corporate hierarchies and organigrams, and hence the loss of a valued team member or two, suddenly precipitates a sense of urgency in the others to join them in showing their retreating backs.

Then there is also the residual de-motivation caused by people moving and the consequential shift in the balance of power. Every time a person leaves, it creates a wake of turbulence in the delicate balance of power in the team. New people have to fit in, seniors try to jockey for more power, and alignments are re-grafted. People in the peripheries, who get caught in the eddies of these currents, very often feel helpless as they are tossed around. Work gets reassigned, and very often the weakest (most junior?) people bear the brunt of it. New members have to make their mark, show their worth and one way to do so is to question existing processes and practices. In their enthusiasm to prove their mettle they will take on more than they can chew, and if by chance they have staff reporting to them, then these poor people will have to step up to the plate, so that their line manager can preen in front of his boss, taking the credit for the home-runs. Quite often more senior members of the team, will grab the opportunity, created by the vacuum, to pass on work to the new unsuspecting member, with similar consequences.

Then comes the actual impact of the resignation, as the loss of intangible knowledge of the incumbent is difficult to replace immediately. Handovers in this modern age are a joke. Very often, they are just references to available reports and notes, and access to stored electronic archives, which if the new joiner were to actually try to read and digest, would probably take years. The built up store of information, the unconscious competence, which comes from knowing how things work and where the levers are, is actually irreplaceable. The longer the tenure of the person parting ways, the more the storehouse of information that walks out the door with them.

Relationships with internal stakeholders, customers, and suppliers that have been forged over years of association cannot be easily replicated either. Relationships are not about positions and titles, they are more about personalities. Relationships are the lubricant in the engine of business, and the coarser the mix the more friction and heat it generates. Beyond a point the engine overheats and the consequences are felt all the way to the bottom-line. Unlike lubricants however, where competing brands have more or less the same ingredients, human dynamics cannot be easily replaced or interchanged.

The other hidden cost comes from the fact that the replacement is almost never ever, like for like. I have seen this so many times in this organisation, that in my mind it is almost a rule. In their unfettered enthusiasm to foster talent and groom future leaders, the replacement is always a bit greener around the ears, a bit younger and also weighted far above his worth. Quotas for gender, race, color and nationalities adds to the overall cost of operations. The incumbent walking away was almost always, either more experienced or more qualified, making the change a steeper climb in organisation terms.

This is a far cry from the normal cost of replacement that we hear about. However the above costs are rarely, if ever, borne by the leadership. As the more senior managers play at being Gods, indulging their whims in changing structures and reporting lines on pieces of paper, it is the people below the change-line, who have to step up their game. The inefficiencies of having a new kid on the block or new reporting lines, are absorbed as they always are, by the mules in the organisation. The mules are the bedrock of any organisation, the ones who are neither high-fliers nor upwardly mobile. They provide the organisation with stability through longer tenures at each position. They are the silent downtrodden or overlooked majority, the grunts, whose only purpose is to serve as footstools for the upwardly mobile to step on, on their way up.

In management speak, the performance of good teams is more than the sum of its parts, i.e. two plus two equals five. But regular turnover and changes in the composition of a team results in sub-optimal performance, i.e. two plus two, more often than not, equals three.

Bridge over Troubled Waters

The last few days have been very strange indeed. Not one, but three good friends approached me about issues that they are currently facing. Two of them are at a crossroad in their life, and are concerned about deciding which fork in the road to take. Both are in a particularly vexing situation and that decision will not be easy. Both have options, but options as they normally do, create uncertainty and stress. One is facing a deeply personal issue, and the other a professional one. Both stand on the threshold of deciding on a path that will unalterably change their lives. It would be a foolish person indeed, who would confidently tell them what to do. In actual fact, when we spoke, neither was really looking for answers. All they sought was a sounding board, a conduit to express inner thoughts, reflect, and then be able to take a more considered decision themselves.

The third friend, a close colleague in fact, also has a personal problem. One morning last week, as I went to him for our daily banter, he just told me to sit down, as he needed someone to talk to. According to him, he does not have too many people he could open up to and at that moment needed someone to just vent. He is quite a reticent person and hence opening up is not easy for him. While revealing some sketchy details of his problem he spoke about going through a torrid period, resulting in his seeking professional help. I did not probe further, since I am of the opinion that people will tell me, what they want, when they want. However knowing him the way I do, the very fact that he sought external assistance, indicated the depth of his quandary.

Considering the confidential nature of the discussions, I will not elaborate any further on the issues themselves. The purpose of this article is to reflect on the process of asking for advice and taking decisions, and the part others play in them. When people approach us with their problems or issues, often all they really seek is someone to hear them out. Someone they trust, to confide in. It does not necessarily have to be the person closest to them. In fact in some cases the people closest to us are the ones least able to provide help, either because they are mired too deep themselves, or cannot remain unbiased. It does not have to be the smartest person either or the one with all the answers. The best answers are often the ones that we find for ourselves. The decisions most often followed through are the ones we make for ourselves.

But we do need others to reflect with, to sound our ideas off or share our thoughts with. Whenever we find ourselves in difficulties we look for people around us to help us through. Most of us are fortunate enough to have supportive family, friends and colleagues, who we can talk to about the various challenges that arise in our lives. We have a plethora of lawyers, doctors, accountants, bankers, engineers, etc. to tap into, whenever we choose to. The fact that we do not do so is our own fault. Some of us are fortunate enough to have access to free advice, which if contracted on a professional basis would cost in the thousands.

Of course one needs to be selective about whom they go to for help. All people unfortunately are not equal, and some are better than others. The good ones are those who are not judgmental; the ones who will not make you feel bad about being in the pickle that you find yourself in. The last thing you need, at such a time, is someone who blames you for being in the situation you are in, no matter how correct that person is. The great ones are terrific listeners, people who are more intent on hearing you out, rather than launching immediately into solutions. They lead you to finding your own answer, rather than offering you a selection of pre-packed, shrink-wrapped solutions.

But how often do we use this pool of resources around us? Many a times we do not seek help, due to ego, embarrassment, shyness, or sometimes just plain fear of exposing our inner selves. It is a known fact that women are more prone to consult and ask for advice, than men. They do not feel bad about seeking guidance, nor do they shy away from acting on the same. However, men are different. Men are worried that by asking for help they reveal their ignorance. By displaying hurt or emotional disturbance they portray their weaknesses.

Recently I had a friend who lost a significant amount of money on an investment, simply because he never sought advice at the time that he took the decision to invest. It was a complex structured note, in addition to being leveraged, which needlessly increased his exposure. On top of that, the value of the investment was dependant on underlying indices, meaning that it was a derivative instrument. He was not made aware of the risks, and probably did not feel confident enough to ask some fundamental questions to the issuers of the note (a reputable institution), at the time he went into it. He is surrounded by bankers and finance professionals, who would have been more than willing to help out, but something prevented him from approaching them, till it was a bit too late.

We have all made some bad decisions in our lives, and chances are that we will make more. But when there are so many people around us, it would be good practice to talk about what we confront and the decisions ahead, before we take the leap. Advice is free and there is no obligation on the part of the receiver to act on it. Through discussions we gain different perspectives which only enhance the decision making process.

Last week I went through a gutting experience at work, or at least that is the way I felt. A situation transpired that made me feel abused and cheated. Discussing the matter with family, friends and colleagues, actually salved the hurt and the bitterness. It made me see the bigger picture, took away the hurt, and maybe saved me from embarrassing myself during my conversation with the offending party. A while ago, I would have kept this to myself, tried to handle the situation internally without sharing it, and in the process would have been far worse off mentally. However, because I did not see any shame in exposing my hurt, I got to share my pain and in the process halved it. Funnily enough, instead of pity or sympathy, what I got was shared empathy at the injustice. Talking about it did not diminish the hurt; it just increased my capacity to cope with it. And as with any hurt, time erases the memories. A week into my life, I already feel that I am past the worst.

I count myself lucky that I have people who I can approach, and who make me feel better about myself. So many others have no one to turn to in times of need. They have either cut themselves off or are themselves cut off. A common observation from friends, who have migrated to foreign lands, is one of loneliness and seclusion. After so many years they still talk of the lack of like-minded people who they can vibe and natter with. The type of friends who you can discuss deeply personal issues with and come out the better for it.

Friends are our bridges during stormy periods, and they help us crossover to the calmer side. We have so many of these bridges around us, each one different and each suited for specific tribulations. So many times we take the long way around, when all it takes is a few short steps to a friend.

What's your age?

I get quite upset when people around me mouth clichés. It becomes obvious that they have put their mind in neutral, and are on intellectual cruise-control. For instance, often I hear about the "good old days", as if the times that we live in, are less than ideal and that the best days are already past. I am sure that you all have heard stories about the “good old days” when there was no traffic, or vegetables used to cost only a few pennies, or life was less stressful, or something similar. If it is not to do with rising costs, then it is the nature of modern life that takes flak. We live in very dangerous times, or what is happening to the world? It almost seems as if the proponent would have preferred to have been born and lived, in some other age. Even people, who were born just a couple of decades ago, talk about current times with an unwarranted (to me at least) degree of pessimism.

If you share the above sentiment, the question then is, when would you rather have been born? Which age would you have liked to have lived in? Would you have liked to have been born in the early 20th century, or maybe the 19th century? What about 500 years ago, or maybe a 1000? This question makes you pause, does it not? Now you have to go out on a limb, to defend an age, and a way of life, that you have no idea about. It makes you come to terms with the idiocy of mouthing statements without having thought them through. I like to ask this question whenever someone is complaining about the harshness of current times, be it labour exploitation, terrorism, climate change or geopolitical tensions.

Of course the person being asked this question, immediately goes on the defensive, and starts spouting gibberish about how great it must have been during the times of the Pharaohs, or maybe even just before the First World War. Life was simpler, there was less violence, no drugs, less crime etc. One can almost sense the pastoral paradise being visualized, a life of quiet ease and contentment in times past. Dreams of a Wodehousian life of privilege in the country, with the only issues to disturb the mind, are caused by annoying relatives or house guests. People in days gone by, were not as materialistic, where as now it is a rat-race and everybody is in it for the money. There is no family life to speak of, and friends will turn on friends, to make a quick buck. Nobody has the time for a pleasant word, and there is no caring left in this world.

Can you blame people for thinking this way, considering the brainwashing that takes place almost constantly? Our songs, our culture, our traditions all look back fondly - they glorify the days gone by, elevate past practices and deify mindless customs. How often does one come across someone who talks with bated anticipation about the future? One who talks with unbridled optimism of what is yet to come? How often do you hear someone say that mans greatest age is yet to dawn?

I recently had a conversation with a friend, who seemed to live in regrets about decisions that she took a long time ago. Her tone and outlook seemed defeated, her best days were past, and the remaining days were to be endured. And she is not even middle aged! All I could say to her was that I pitied her if that was the way she really felt about her life. It is in our hands to better our lot in life. Humans live and hope for the future, we are optimistic of the days to come, and look forward to a better tomorrow. Having spoken to others, there was unanimous consent that we all individually aspire for a brighter future for ourselves and our families. If this attitude of pessimism is not acceptable at the individual level, why do we so easily accept negativity for our entire race?

We are living in the greatest age of man – so far. Never before in our history have so many people, had the means to make fundamental choices in their life. Never has there been so much information so easily available. Over the last 50 years a huge swathe of population around the world has been raised, from abject poverty to plenty. Access to decent living conditions, education, and food has been broadened. Technology has heightened productivity, reduced infant mortality, increased life expectancies and provided opportunities of livelihood that were not envisioned a few years ago. However, we look at pictures of starving children in Africa, of floods in Asia, and war torn villages in the Caucuses and come to the conclusion that the world is getting worse. We are made to believe that Nina, Katarina and Gonu are a direct result of mans greed for natural resources. We get swept away by the negative spin given by the press on a daily basis. It is ironic, that on one hand every natural calamity, be it an earthquake or a hurricane is blamed on humanity’s consumer oriented society, and on the other hand, advancements in health, diet and general well-being are taken as a matter of fact and blithely ignored.

Imagine the life of an average person a couple of centuries ago. It meant backbreaking work from morning to night, no time for rest, leisure or recreation. It meant a parsimonious diet, difficulty in getting an education, and impossibility of changing your circumstances. It took just a small nudge to go from a life of middle class penury to abject poverty. In most parts of the world, family status dictated opportunities, and for the vast majority was severely restricted. You were either born into a life of privilege or were excluded from participating in any form of social betterment. Nobility, monarchy, feudalism, casteism, un-touchability, female infanticide, bondage, servitude, inquisition, slavery were the order of the day. All of these would touch and impact, in some way or the other, every living human being, no matter where they lived. The Declaration of Human Rights had not yet been drafted, all were not equal and human life was cheap. Your family could be torn apart in the name of Religion or the King. You could be burnt at the stake for your beliefs or enslaved because of the color of your skin. The accident of your birth into a lower caste family was enough to make life a living hell, and there was no legal recourse. Any attempt to escape these chains, to try to better your condition, was dealt with severely.

If you were born in the early 20th century, it is quite likely that you would not have escaped the effects of the two great wars. Millions upon millions of lives were lost or displaced as the sub-continent parted ways. The ravages of the Khmer Rouge, the Vietnam conflict, the Cold War, all of these consumed scarce resources that could have been channeled to more needy ends.

All historical monuments, from the Taj Mahal, the Pyramids of Giza, to the Great Wall of China and the great Palaces of Europe were built by slave labour. They were testament to the will and whim of the Rulers of that time, monuments of sin, paid for by the blood of the very people who worked on them. Entire lives of hundreds of thousands of humans, and their descendants were spent, in erecting these structures and many others, to feed the inflated egos and desires of Kings, whose only claim to royalty came from being born into it.

Contrast the above to the greatest city built in the 20th Century, New York. Every building brick and mortar was laid by free men, paid for their labors. Every skyscraper is a tribute to the human spirit. Every structure screams of the ego of man, as he strives towards the realm of the Gods. It took America, and its capitalistic free economy to show the path for disenfranchised people to attain middle class comfort, and for the pursuit of individual happiness to be enshrined in a country's constitution. That is the reason why for the last 150 years, America has been the country of choice for both economic and political refugees. That is why it is called the land of milk and honey. That is why with the collapse of Communism, and its obvious flaws, most countries are moving, admittedly or not, towards a similar economic model.

That is also why I prefer the modern cities of New York, Hong Kong and Dubai, to the pomposity and exaggerated grandeur of old palaces in Europe and the Far East, or the crumbling ruins of a decrepit fort in Asia. When I look at historical palaces and monuments of the past, all I see is slave labour and the bent backs of helpless humans beaten into the ground. I see chain-gangs of slaves, whipped and goaded to build an edifice that is corrupt from its very conception. When I look at the great modern cities I see free men, standing tall, looking up and aspiring through their buildings, to reach their full potential.

Humanities greatest day is yet to dawn. Technologies are breaking barriers as we speak, and the artificial divides of race and geo-political territories on a map, will not stand in the path of the tidal wave of progress, yet to come. There is a vast amount of untapped human potential, just waiting to be unleashed. There are Picassos and Einsteins of the future, being born at this very moment in remote corners of the world. There will be many more Mandelas and Gandhis to prod our collective conscience, and show us the correct path to walk on. There are infinite possibilities ahead and our inexorable march will continue till mankind sits amongst the stars on a throne that it so rightly deserves.

I have no doubts in my mind that I was born and raised in the correct time. That the good old days were good but these days are better, and that the days to come will be better still. Have I convinced you, and if so what’s your age now?

Trouble in Paradise

Most of you who know me, will know that I am a bit of a technophile. I have always been one, and over the years have managed to access and keep abreast with the latest technology, either by reading about the advances or by purchasing, within the boundaries of my limited affordability, the latest gadget. Two recent experiences however, reminded me of my fallibility as regards keeping pace with developments in the tech arena are concerned. Because of my infatuation with technology, I had always assumed that I had a flair for it, and that a glancing encounter with any device, would be enough for me to be on top of any advancements (at least hardware related). This little mental paradise was shaken by the events that unfurled in the last month.

The first incident happened a few weeks ago. I had just opened an account with a new Bank, as part of the requirements of my mortgage arrangements. I was supposed to fund that account with a certain minimum balance, for my instalments to be released to the property developer. Since I had run out of cheque leaves from my existing bank account, I decided to fund the new account, by taking out cash from my old account and depositing it into the new one. Easier said than done! I reached the premises of the new bank, cash in hand and entered an air-conditioned room with a bank of ATM machines, the likes of which I had not encountered before. I took out my card and tried to insert it into the card slot of the first machine. No luck. I tried with the second machine - again the same result. Walked to the third machine, which had no slot for the card at all. By now I was completely confused. I was trying to maintain my position in the rapidly forming queues and read the instructions for the ATM’s at the same time. I could see other customers using their cards and hence knew that there was nothing wrong with the ATM's.

Eventually out of desperation I turned around to the man behind me for assistance. He looked to be a construction site worker. On hearing my request, him and another Good Samaritan, who had sensed my situation, took my card, pressed some buttons, inserted my card, asked me to type in my PIN and then deposited the cash into my account. I was completely cowed by then and as I shamefully left the premises, I thought about the number of times I had seen others struggle at similar machines, while I have been standing behind them, tapping my feet in impatience. I never thought that I would be in that situation – ever.

The next incident happened just a few days later, in the UK. I was at the Lensbury Club, my company’s convention center in Teddington. I had flown in the previous evening and wanted to quickly get into my groove by starting my exercise sessions. I headed off to the gym in the early morning, through light rain and biting cold. There was a shortcut, from my residential quarters to the club, which avoided my having to walk all the way around through the main entrance. Suffice to say, that the shortcut involved navigating a set of revolving doors, which despite my most fervent pushing refused to move. Much to my embarrassment I was made to realise that they were again, access card operated. As I was trying to figure out my next move, a young lady who had been outside jogging, excused herself past me, and used her card to gain access. She had probably seen my struggle with the door, and volunteered to let me in ahead, but gallantry prevented me from preceding her through the doors. As I saw her rapidly retreating form, I realised with a growing sense of desperation, that I would have been much better off accepting her offer of assistance. There I was, left out in the cold, desperately trying to swipe the card and push the door, but to no avail. Eventually, I decided to take the long way round, through the main entrance to access the gymnasium, much chastened and deflated.

These incidents might seem funny to you dear reader, but to me are a watershed moment in my life. They make me realise my own mortality, as the phase of my life, which was comfortable with advancing technology, draws to a close. In the last few years I have been increasingly impatient in the face of tech products and it has been the concept rather than the product that has held my attention. Even though I have periodically bought new products, be it Ipods, Mobile phones, LCD TV's or the latest DVD players, I have not even scratched the surface, as regards my knowledge of their features go. In fact, I always question the rationale of cramming them with so many buttons and features, the vast majority of which will never be used in that products lifetime.

This mindset was not always so. I still remember the time when a new product involved days of happy study, learning the features and operating limits of that gizmo. The operating manual was always read cover to cover, before the product was unpacked. I was not always as impatient in connecting the wires and setting up the system, as I am now. In fact I used to like to take the product apart and reassemble it just to see its innards with all the circuit boards and small transistor valves. Now the operating manual is a port of last call, to be resorted to, only when there is a breakdown or a major snafu. I cannot wait for my son to take on the mantle of tech-in-chief, so that I can resign and consign the mundane tasks of setting up, connecting and synchronising the various products, reading the instruction manuals and sorting out operating problems, to him.

The dilemma is whether these events have been catalysed by the fact that each product is now unbelievably complex and feature ridden, or is it to do with my advancing years? I sincerely hope it is the former, and that it is a subconscious decision on my part to better utilise my limited brain capacity in other more fulfilling areas. I shudder to think of the consequences of what a slippage in my tech prowess at this stage in my life, foretells.

My parent’s generation skipped the entire PC revolution and all the ancillary progress that ensued. They still function in a paper-dominated world, using typewriters and landlines for communication. There is a high level of discomfort with any machine that seems more intelligent than a human. ATM’s, computers, entertainment systems, tech-laden cars, in fact the very fabric of our material universe is non-comprehensible to them. Every day that passes by, increases the distance between them and the digital world.

My Dad and I still laugh about the time, many years ago when I introduced him to a laptop. He was visiting Dubai, and I told him to spend a day getting acquainted with a computer, writing letters to his friend’s back home. I told him not to worry, and that these machines were idiot proof. Famous last words! After giving him (according to me) failsafe-operating instructions I left for the day. When I returned I gazed upon the screen, to see a sight that I have never seen since. The laptop was frozen, did not react to any commands, and to add insult to injury could not be hard closed. It needed a visit to my Company’s IT helpdesk to prevent its untimely death. After that day I have never felt comfortable leaving anything with an integrated processor, in the hands of my father.

The next generation is only slightly better, though many in its population have had more than a passing association with the PC and the Internet. Their comfort levels, though orders of magnitude better than the previous generation, do not even come close to the aptitude of my generation. They trip and stumble around in this world, more often than not, totally bemused with their predicament.

My children’s generation are of course, completely in tune with this world. They seem to have an instinctive bond with technology and do not get intimidated with its complexity. They were born after the PC came into the house, and hence are completely at ease basking in the monitor’s LED glare. The digital world truly belongs to them, and often, small incidents remind us that we are just visitors in their world, strangers in a land getting ever stranger. If you have ever seen a 3-year-old interfacing with these products, any doubts about the veracity of this statement will be erased.

For example, we (my wife and I) love gaming, and we do, as a family, play Xbox games. We severely restrict our son from playing more than an hour a week, though my wife and I sometimes play in excess of 10 hours a week. But once in a while, we use the multi-player option to go head to head against our son, in games that we are infinitely more familiar with. Let me tell you that it is total mayhem. He absolutely massacres us, be it driving games or shooting ones. We stand no chance at all. We rave and rant and fly into fits of rage. In that emotionally charged moment, I often use my prerogative as head of the house, to ban him from ever playing the Xbox again.

I love technology and the cool products that it constantly spews out. I hate the fact that I might not be able to manage and handle the cooler gadgets yet to come. I hate even more the inevitable future, where I will require the youth to assist me through my tech infested life, as my feeble eyes try to read the operating instructions on machines that are the size of my fingernails.

The Desert Bandits

The title is used with apologies and (I hope) the permission, of the small band of die-hard bikers in Dubai, who comprise this group.

I started this blog more than 4 months ago and I cannot believe that I have not written on a topic that is so close to my heart. It has been almost two and a half years since I got my riding licence and a motorbike, and a bit shorter since we started our Friday morning rides. For those of you, who do not indulge in this activity, a lot of what is to follow will not be very interesting and you are free to surf further or choose another blog to read. For the rest who persist in reading on, this blog will try and illuminate my fascination with getting onto my "iron horse" and thundering down the highway of life. How else can one describe the feeling of being on an open road, just after dawn, with the black ribbon of freeway stretching ahead as far as the eye can see, and the speedometer needle inching further right than it should. The wind whips pieces of loose clothing into a frenzy, and pushes any exposed body part into the most aerodynamic form, as you slip through the air with a rapidity that is simply exhilarating. As you twist the accelerator upwards, the tiniest movement becomes increasingly difficult, and above 160 kph, only your eyeballs can swivel with ease.

A lot of people appreciate fast cars - but for me it has always been bikes (all bikes). Just the sight of a motorbike at rest increases by heartbeat, the sound of one, gets my heart racing. Many a times I have been fortunate to have had a near-miss, because I was so intent on following the path of one passing me by, that my attention was not where it should have been. A bike gives you the feeling of being one with nature, exposed to the elements, with differences in temperature and wind, dictating your progress. Very unlike a car where you are cocooned from the elements and quite often oblivious to the small wonders around us. Riding can however be extremely unforgiving as it punishes (sometimes severely) any mistakes or lapses in judgement.

Consisting of almost 20 regular members, this group has grown (unlike other such groups) only through personal introductions. There is no affiliation to a manufacturer or a make of bike. With so many riders, it has now become big enough to have its own momentum and the Friday rides continue through the year, even if only a few riders are present. The only impact the changing seasons have is on the start time of the rides in the morning (earlier in the summer!). Biking has built a fraternity of like minded individuals, who meet up, indulge in their passion, talk about their machines and enjoy each others company. One of the great pleasures is to stop for breakfast, at a "mallu" joint for some "saada chai" and "omelette naan". The more refined amongst us have a soft drink and a sandwich instead.

Very often the route is decided in the morning at the meeting place, and varies from a distance of 150 kms to 300 kms round trip. These rides have ensured that we have covered almost all 7 Emirates, and the vistas that I have been privileged to see, have quite often blown me away. The group varies in size from 3 to sometimes more than 10 riders on any given Friday. Even now I can picture in my minds eye, all these bikes either as a line of bright headlights in my rear view mirror if I am leading, or as a formation stretching away for kilometres ahead, if I am trailing the group.

To join this group there is no requirement to own a particular brand of bike, or even a similar type. The Desert Bandits have sports, mixed-utility, cruisers and touring bikes. All are welcome and all are taken care of. Every one rides at the speed they are comfortable with, and no rider is left behind. The group includes speedsters as well as others who prefer to stick to the legal limit. Personally these rides are a way to escape the quotidian stresses that our way of life imposes on us. As my vision narrows through the visor of my helmet, my mind frees itself in tandem, from its minor burdens, and the faster I go, the further behind my worries seem to get. At that moment nothing else matters other than the road, the bike and me hunched into the bubble of my fairing, to be as aerodynamic as possible. Very little noise seeps in through the protective cocoon of my helmet, and in fact a lot of my fellow riders have earphones piping their favourite music.

We have not yet managed to get the wider involvement of spouses and families, whose presence would only enhance the overall experience. I cannot count the number of times that I have wished that my wife were there to see the beautiful scenery unravelling in the early morning. The blues, ambers and reds of the sky and the different hues of the sand, that I otherwise would never have seen. Many is the time that I have stopped to capture the rugged scenery, but the resultant photograph never does justice to the grandeur of the vista as seen through our eyes. Actually, quite similar to trying to pen down, in this blog, the sensory overload of riding a performance machine – it has to be experienced first hand!

The first snap is of the original trio (all riding different bikes now) who decided to explore the Nations highways and byways rather than sleeping away Friday mornings. What started out as an occasional ride, has now transformed into an impromptu group affectionately called "The Desert Bandits", who share a common passion. The logo of the Desert Bandits is a work in progress (courtesy Neville Deboo), and the last photo shows the increase in our tribe (may we flourish).

Nobody is happy in Dubai

I started this blog while in the UK, reflecting on a conversation in the elevator of my office building in Dubai, last week. I could not help but contrast the two places after a few days here in Lensbury. We had had a few occurrences of elevators getting stuck, with passengers still in them the week before. I remember enquiring of the security guard whether they were working properly that day, as I did not fancy getting stuck in one for a few hours. I commented about the fact that the building was still relatively new, for the elevators to start misbehaving and that proper maintenance was required. The security guard, with whom I happen to have a quick chat everyday, responded rhetorically, by stating that the elevators were getting old and just like us humans, being in constant use every day, were tired and weary.

Another gentleman, just entering the vestibule heard only the response, and misconstrued the conversation to refer to the guard and generally to life in Dubai. He immediately intruded and launched into a monologue about how everyone was tired and weary in Dubai and that no one was happy. He continued his diatribe into the elevator and up to his floor. Rising costs, increasing workloads, traffic, pollution, were all driving people to despair. He got off on an earlier floor, before I could correct his mistake, but his comments did strike me as particularly interesting. They beg the question - are we really happy in Dubai?

The changes in Dubai over the last few years are obvious. Friends who lived here before and have come back for a visit have been both, impressed and daunted. Even though the progress has been stunning, there has been a price in terms of quality of life. For longer-term residents it has been more so. The value proposition for them has changed radically. What used to be a quiet and simple place is now a booming metropolis, a worldwide brand, and probably the most sought after destination (both commercial and tourist) in the world.

In the "good old days" moving around was easy, costs were low and savings were decent. Stress, though always there, was also manageable. Since the population was small, the quality of service everywhere was exceptional. Whether it was a bank or a hotel, airline or a club, one was treated with respect, and as a customer you always left feeling good. A couple of visits to any establishment made you a regular, bringing with it a level of courtesy that only the familiar get. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, and Dubai at that time seemed on the cusp of becoming big. Every grand opening was an event to attend and it seemed like everyone you knew was there. Since there was less to do, you landed up doing everything.

I remember, as an avid beach goer, every Friday morning driving down to the open beach next to the Chicago Beach Hotel (now the Jumairah Beach Hotel) and not seeing a single soul. As I lay on the sand reading my novel, a solitary person walking half a kilometer away, felt like an intrusion. I was used to having the entire beach to myself, especially in peak summer when it was too hot for most other residents. Another pastime (seems like a dream now) was to drive down to the Sharjah corniche to the Chittagong Juice Center, just for the drive and to have a juice on weekday evenings. The entire drive to and fro (with a stop for juice) would take an hour. The pace of change has been so rapid that to anybody who has been in Dubai for less than 5 to 7 years, the above will seem like I am referring to the middle of the previous century.

On reflection it does seem as if Dubai offered more to the individual then, than it does now. There were more "options" in terms of life and living, and one did not have to bend his back to exercise the same. Now the focus for life in Dubai has changed. It has become more of flash and fashion, nightclubs and shopping, well heeled tourists and fine dining, and less to do with family and friendships. The progress has come at a cost, more so for its older residents. Those unwilling to pay are slowly but surely being pushed out, to make way for others more willing to pay the price. One hears of people pulling children out of school, sending families back, or sometimes opting out altogether. The question is whether the people walking away, are doing so having the option to stay, or is the decision forced on them.

I am often in the company of people who have nothing positive to say about this city. Property implosion, stock market meltdown, geopolitical tensions are the only future that they see. They seem to be seething with resentment, a disenfranchised lot, and to me quite often like beggars on a beach of gold. Most of this resentment is from long time residents, who took for granted the freebies given in the past, when this place was a hardship location. It is now a modern and fast paced city, comparable to the best the world has to offer. The best comes with a price, in terms of inflation, increasing population, and traffic snarls. Most major cities that I have been to, suffer from these maladies, and their residents bear this as par for the course.

A lot of this tetchiness, I think, started after the opening of the property market, and the boom it preceded. Skeptics who stayed away from investing (or could not afford to) and hence, grabbing one of the most lucrative financial opportunity in the world, started to feel left behind as the train moved away. It was almost as if, a hurricane hit their village and turned everything they knew into completely unfamiliar terrain. They felt disoriented in their own hometown! There wasn't as much anti-Dubai sentiment, as there is now. The irony is that the very same people used to complain about their annual leases. They used to consider rentals a colossal waste of money and craved to own their own property. When the opportunity did come knocking, very few actually did open the door.

Speaking for myself, I love this place. I love the sun, the heat and the proximity to my family. I love the lifestyle afforded to me by residing here, and the standard of living that I have experienced. There are more nuisances to put up with of course, like traffic and pollution and maybe deteriorating service quality, but I see all of these as temporary. This city is in a state of flux, and will need time to stabilize and I am willing to give it that time.

Having spent almost half my life in this place, I have seen its evolution (better word is transformation), and feel as if I have played a part in it as well. I take pride in the developments and more than a proprietorial interest in the progress. I cannot wait for the Dubai Metro to start so that I can commute to work. I am eagerly anticipating the completion of the Burj Dubai, the worlds tallest building, just as I am major projects like Dubailand, Waterfront and Maritime City amongst many others. The complexion of Dubai is changing and I wonder if it makes others as impatient as myself to see what lies in the future? If only I could transport myself 20 years ahead to see what this place will be like! My mind boggles in the presence of the extraordinary development underway.

I never tire from knowing that I have been privileged to be a small part of one of the most dramatic developments in modern human history. I am tired however, of the people who harp on the negatives of this city, while continuing to enjoy its bounty. If you are hanging on to Dubai and complaining, as your grip is getting loose, the question then is, why are you not letting go?

A Tale of Two Sides

It dawned on me the other day, that there are two types of people in this world, those who work for others and those who work for themselves. Every adult on this planet fits into one or the other. Before you start to refute this statement, a beggar, or one who chooses to do nothing, is actually self-employed. This fundamental difference impacts the way we look at the world as individuals, in later life.


The way we think, the way we behave, and our response to external stimuli are completely different based on which side of the fence we decided (probably very early on) to pitch our tent. This becomes very obvious if one happens to know people who squat on either side. There is a huge difference between the mindset of an entrepreneur and that of a working man. Most major companies want to inculcate the entrepreneurial spirit, precisely because it is non-existent. Now imagine how futile that exercise is!! The pursuit of a quality that is in complete contradiction to one, that needs to abide by the rules, processes and guidelines being hammered down day after day. It is like looking for a snowball in an oven!


Some organisations are better at harnessing this ephemeral quality than others. Organisations that are heavily dependent on the skills of its people or the nimbleness of their service offering will be better, than corporations that are driven by processes and flowcharts. We have all cut our teeth on the stories of people who forged the future of corporations through unconventional actions or approach. But these are legends precisely because they are exceptions. Normality is just the opposite, where any unorthodoxy (be it an idea or a person) is described as "interesting" or "unique", thereby quickly consigned to a footnote in the obituary of a sunk career.


People, who work for themselves, are unfettered in their dreams and ambitions, and that is the reason they work for themselves. They have huge self belief, are highly energised and know that nothing is impossible. For the same reasons, they cannot survive for long in an oxygen deprived corporate environment. I used to work with two guys who were dreamers at heart, but through lack of self awareness or options, worked in an MNC. They chaffed at the boundaries, rules and brackets the organization imposed on them, till they decided to take the leap to self-dependence. One jumped quite a long time ago, and is currently living a life that, in my emasculated state, I cannot even dream about - and the other has stepped out recently and hence is still flapping his growing wings. Neither of these guys was motivated by greed. Rather their dreams were just too big for the company they worked in. Both wanted more in terms of gratification, than a conventional "career" could ever provide.

The working man on the other hand is comfortable in taking his direction from others. His outlook is narrower, and blinkers limit his peripheral vision. Quite often he is plagued by self doubt, and his idea of extreme bravery is to jump from one organisation to another. This is not an indictment on his mental capacity or his intelligence, in fact quite the opposite. The most intelligent people I know work for others. It is just the way that their brains are wired or molded in their youth. They need someone else to extract that intelligence and put it to use. Unfortunately in this bargain he loses, since the employer always gets much more value than the employee.

The sum total of a working man's ambition is to increase his paycheck to beat inflation. A promotion masks this as a challenge of a job at a higher level, though reporting to someone else. Quite funny if you think about it. All corporate careers and high flying jobs at the end of it are exactly that - working for someone else. The wonders of our modern matrix organisations sometimes take away even the small comfort of having one reporting line. We now have multiple bosses - you get three for the price of one. What a bargain!! All our lives we are prodded to climb the career ladder, only to find more rungs above, and just like the children’s game of snakes and ladders, a chance landing on a snake means you go back a few paces (sometimes all the way back to start).

A working man's career progression is aptly described below in Alexander Pope's - An Essay on Criticism
So pleased at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount over vales, and seem to tread the sky,
The eternal snows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last;
But those attained, we tremble to survey
The growing labors of the lenghtened way,
The increasing prospects tire our wandering eyes,
Hills peep over hills, and Alps on Alps arise!


Neither path is wrong or right, good or bad - just what suits each individual. What, to me is sad, is a working grunt pretending to be a hot shot. Like any humble laborer, he has to wait till the end of the month to get his cheque, whether it is to feed his family or pay for his Porsche. The value of his services are dictated, not by his capacity, but by scales and structures. His annual bonus is a function of a formula, rather than the worth of his contribution.

Sad is also the pretence at leadership, when all one leads are other indentured minions. One does not get to choose their boss, and very often not even their subordinates. They are legacies handed over to you like a Patek Philipe watch, to be taken care of for the next generation. Same goes for you, as you are put into the nurturing care of a succession of line managers, where every step up is credited to the studied grooming of your boss, and every trip-up, your own doing. And before you know it, a young puppy is handing you a gold watch, as he felicitates your life's achievements, which will be forgotten even before the next days sunrise hits your office window.

Another trait that continually fascinates me is, when a working stiff believes that his job is worth more than it actually is, in terms of net value addition to humanity. I have never understood the arrogance amongst some of my finance counterparts - do they really think that balancing the books and making entries (however complex) actually means anything in the bigger scheme of things? I used to think it quite depressing that the pinnacle of one’s achievement was to close the books a day earlier, until I saw more upwardly mobile colleagues caught in endless telecoms, or confined miserably for days on end, listening to a series of presentations by people whose communication skills had been honed in the middle ages. The mind numbing paralysis of indecisive executives, having brought me to my knees, make me look fondly back at simpler days, when the monthly closing of the books, made me feel like the master of the universe.

I am sure that there are statistics on the ratios of self employed people to employed people, and I believe that the latter are in the greater majority. Hence a lot of you dear readers will, just like me, be working class heroes. It is quite natural that you will take umbrage at some of my observations. Being one of you, I understand the imperatives that drive our behaviour. If you have worked for more than 5 years in a big organisation, I can guarantee you that you have already been conditioned to zoom in on threats, and be blindsided by the opportunities. Take a deep breath and reflect. If quiet deliberation does not quell your objections, please do let me have your contrarian views. I would be most interested to hear them.

The Broken Treadmill

A few days ago I was at Tehran airport. It was 10.30 pm, and I was waiting for my flight back home. At the end of a long day I was in the last place I wanted to be. I began to observe other business travellers, who looked as washed out as I felt. Suddenly my eyes happened to glance on an open laptop with a screensaver depicting a picture of an exotic island, with blue water, beach, sun and coconut trees. You know the one that I am talking about…. The owner of that laptop could not have been further from that idyllic scene!

Suddenly I had an epiphany as I thought about screensavers. They portray our aspirations, quite often projecting our inner desires of either being somewhere else with the people who matter, or doing what we are passionate about. How many laptops have you seen with a screensaver depicting an office? Or the products you sell, or your office colleagues? How many more with vacation snaps, children playing or the owner indulging in his favourite hobby?

I thought to myself that we are all like little hamsters running on a treadmill in a cage. As anyone who has ever used one will know, a treadmill gives one a good workout without actually taking him or her anywhere. The funny thing is that 20th and 21st century life is exactly like that. We are all working harder and harder to be in the same place. We beaver away at jobs, work ridiculous hours – and for what? I ask you if any man, on his dying day, will ever wish that he had spent more time at the office?

Society puts huge pressures on us to live our lives along predefined norms of acceptability, with very little room to manoeuvre or chart an independent course. If we decide to break away from the beaten path, the only way to redeem ourselves is through huge success. People who decide to live their lives according to their own dictates and fail (in the conventional sense of the word) will not be accepted beyond the peripheries of their immediate family (if that).

When any child is born, endless possibilities lie ahead - will the child become a painter, or an artist? Maybe a sportsman? How many parents actually dream about their child becoming an accountant, or even a senior manager in a commercial organisation? The dreams start to crumble once the child enters school. From then on, comparisons become inevitable. Teachers are very quick to draw attention to every quirk or deviation from the norm, hinting at inferiority that they are hardly qualified to judge. It is ironical that we draw first impressions of our children, from people who are qualified to do nothing else but teach, and hence are the lowest paid profession in the world.

The curriculum over the next 16 years is enough to squeeze all creativity out of the child. Any attempt at individuality is severely dealt with, so that by the end of that period, even the most stubborn non-adherent comes out moulded. The great circle of life then continues, with the neophyte graduate told that the world is her oyster (only problem being that no one has taught her how to catch it!). Which is the reason why young people take up whatever jobs they can land to start with, and then it is a big lottery as to whether they like what they do. From then on, it is all downhill. The road to perdition is littered with the corpses of dreams long forgotten, and passions laid waste, on our path to individual mediocrity.

The child has entered a world where success is measured in terms of career, money and material possessions. The pace keeps increasing, and with every decision taken and an additional responsibility accepted, the ability to get off the treadmill diminishes. When we cannot choose the way we live our lives, we fool ourselves into believing that we want to live it the way we do. With the passage of time we assuage our frustrations by trying to live it up. We spend more than we should and less than we want, thereby increasing the pressure. We are expected to spend our money with an intensity that is just that one step ahead of our ability to earn the same, ensuring that we never get off the treadmill. We celebrate our successes and drown our sorrows in material possessions. Spending and acquisitions become the great equalizers.

We start life with little, and before we know it, have committed to loans and mortgages that ensure the Banks own the assets that we call ours, for the majority of our lives. Temptations are rife, and every nook and cranny of every wall, magazine, newspaper, website or TV channel, are crammed with offers that seem like the best ever. Even though we know that we do not really need the latest widget, we use two deep seated rationale' to justify picking them up all the same. We are earning so we deserve it, or life is too short, so enjoy while you can.

Even if you have been able to resist the allure, your loved ones whispering the above, force you to rethink. And while we are feeding this monster, our ability to do what we want, diminishes day by day. In most of the developed world, the retirement age has been pushed from 60 to 65 and even 70. I have heard that some countries have no retirement age at all, and one can continue to be employed till he keels over. The imperative to carry on working does not come from a sense of enjoyment in what we do, but from our inability to control our spending. How can we do anything different, when in today’s world our worth is measured, not by the contents of our character, but rather by the extent of our expenditure?

The definition of a wealthy man is one whose spend is less than his income. The sooner we curb our acquisitive instincts, the sooner we can get off this rut and devote time to more fulfilling activities, whatever they may be. However it is easier said than done. The gravitational pull of a black hole is so intense that even light cannot escape it. It is the same with this treadmill that we are on - we know that it is taking us nowhere, yet we cannot pull the plug (on our spending) out.