Tuesday, July 29, 2008

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).

Sunday, July 27, 2008

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?

Friday, July 11, 2008

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.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

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.