A wish, revisited

Almost 10 years ago, Volkswagen launched the new version of the classic Beetle in the US. I used to drive a Toyota Corolla then, a nondescript silver sedan with 100K miles on it. I had recently been promoted and was told that I needed a new car. I am not an automobile buff. Apart from driving, I just make sure there is enough fuel to get to my destination, occasionally I check the tire pressure or get servicing done. I did not have any particular car that I coveted. And then came the red Beetle that stole my heart.

I loved the dome-shaped head, the cute lights and the overall glamor quotient. The two-door tiny car was not the most practical choice when you have to ferry around a three-year old in a car seat. But I wanted a Beetle, a little red bug. Given the popularity of the model, there were no red bugs in the entire state of California. I was told it would take 3 weeks, at least, to get one from a VW dealership across the state border. And somewhere in those three weeks, I lost interest.

So I drove the old Corolla for two more years.

Now, it's time to buy a new car. Just when VW is introducing its fleet in India.

I think I will get a Volkswagen. But should I get the Beetle?

Readers - I would like your opinion.

Two books and half a review

I have been busy lately that my most prized activity of the day, bedtime reading has been abandoned in favor of a few extra minutes of well-deserved sleep.

I browse bookstores in airports and quite frequently stock up on books. I have even finished reading whole books while waiting to board delayed flights! Given such a track record, I have missed feeding my reading habit and only in the last week have I got back on the reading wagon again.

What am I reading now? A book called "Connect the Dots", the words printed upside down on the front cover, with little "." (dots) where the "o" should be in the two main words of the title. Cute. It is a book compiled by Rashmi Bansal, considered a bestselling author due to the success of her previous compilation, "Stay hungry stay foolish." The author is not truly a writer, but more of a narrator of the true stories of people. An IIM-A graduate herself, she chose 25 IIM alumni who had ventured into the world of entrepreneurship and told their stories.

The current book, though based on similar lines, i.e. stories of 20 people, has one thing in common - they do NOT have management degrees. Many are not highly educated and all of them have no formal training on starting or running a business. They have achieved varying degrees of success in various fields, ranging from retail restaurant chains, quirky t-shirts, software and cheese.

Both books leave you feeling cheated, not for the stories of courageous individuals who stepped off the beaten track but for the quality of the writing. Pedestrian prose, very few insights and poor quality of narration. The books are poor literature but the people themselves, specially in "Connect the dots", are stellar examples of how one person can overcome ordinary challenges and create extraordinary ventures. A little common sense, a lot of commitment to the cause and immense faith in oneself, is all that is needed to create successful business because all the degrees in the world will not instill these qualities in you if you don't possess the seed to begin with.

My other disappointment is with the fact that both books feature only 2 women each - either the sampling is skewed (for the stories that were selected) or the statistic is sad, if the selection truly represents entrepreneurship potential of women. I think there are many women entrepreneurs out there who routinely forge a new path but perhaps their company turnover is not sufficient to make it to this list.

Therein lies the problem - the perception of success in your work-life, measured by the money you make, is like measuring rain water in rupees - the value of life-giving water when you need it most, is ridiculous when weighed in terms of material wealth. Perhaps women (and some men too) measure success with different yardsticks.

To quote Anand Halve, founder of "Chlorophyll" - a brand consultancy, featured in the earlier book who mentioned that they use three yardsticks in order to work on any project "It must give us money, or it must give us fame, or it must give us great joy".

Perhaps one day there will be a book on people who chose paths that diverged from the road well-traveled, and chose the one that lead to a joyful life.

998 pieces

Ever tried putting together a jigsaw puzzle?
A giant one?
I did.

In my dining room hangs a picture of downtown San Francisco. It is a reproduction of an artists perception of the historic city. But it is not a painting. Not a print of the original painting, nor is it a photograph. It is actually a frame where a 1000 piece puzzle of San Francisco is mounted.

The puzzle was a gift to Aparna, on our recent US visit. We decided to tackle the puzzle in the three weeks that we had in the country. It took us, about....oh, days and days of squinting at tiny pieces and trying to find the right place to put it in. We found Fisherman's Wharf, Chinatown and Crooked Street without too much trouble but the spectacular skyline of the city, with the prominent TransAmerica building and the numerous others that dot the beautiful blue skies, took a lot of time. When we had most of the pieces in place, we noticed that one piece was missing. No amount of searching could locate it.

So one day, we declared that we were done, albeit with 999 pieces! We bought puzzle glue that held the pieces together. We wrapped our creation in two large sheets of newspaper and tried to put it in the suitcase to bring it home. It fit, but barely. The puzzle made it across the seas without too much trouble but lost another piece in transit! The assembled jigsaw puzzle was now in India, but with 998 pieces.

It stayed put for almost 2 months and just prior to the move to my own place, I decided to give it a permanent place where it would be safe. It now hangs in a large cherry wood frame in my dining room.

Quite often it is a topic of conversation. People sometime recognize the cityscape, most often they are surprised to find out that it is a puzzle but hardly anyone notices the missing pieces. To my eyes, I can't help but notice the empty spaces between the 998 other pieces. This is so true of our life. We focus on flaws, on what is missing and seldom "get" the big picture. We rarely give ourselves credit for what we have done or achieved, we tend to look at what is "not there".

But what is surely there, is this beautiful assembled jigsaw puzzle that serves as a daily reminder of where I am today, whole, not necessarily perfect.

Working on holiday

I was in Ooty last week. I have been really busy with work lately, so most of my friends thought that I was taking a well-deserved vacation. I would have been happy if that was the case. I was actually working in Ooty. Teaching, to be precise.

When I agreed to this assignment months ago, it was based on the fact that December seemed far away, I had never been to Ooty before and teaching college students sounded like an easy task. But as the date got closer, I realized that - I was still swamped with other commitments, Ooty can be really cold in December and I had a huge part of the syllabus to cover in 2 days!

But I needed the change from the stressful routine of working from home and headed off to Coimbatore and then to the lovely hills-station of Ooty. It was a grey day when I arrived and then it rained the rest of the evening. I remember being cold, cold, cold, even after covering up with two thick blankets and a convection heater near my feet.

Eventually my body remembered the basics of staying warm and I had two great days with a bunch of highly enthusiastic students. The highlight was the first evening after class when I accompanied the students to the Botanical Garden area after sunset. We ate tender carrots and corn, spicy peanut chaat and Ooty's famous homemade chocolates. I was wise enough to buy some tea and mountain honey as souvenirs since there wasn't much time for sight-seeing with the tight academic schedule.

On my way back to Coimbatore, I stopped by the scenic point of Dolphin's Nose, about 10 km from Conoor. The car took sharp hair-pin bends as we approached the destination, the sun played hide-n-seek at each curve, sometime showing tantalizing views of St. Catherine's water falls and shielding the majestic slopes lush with tea
plantations the very next moment. The fog was so dense by the time we parked that it was hard enough to see your own nose, leave alone that of the famous "Dolphin". I stood there for a few minutes, hoping the fog would lift, not knowing when I would be here again. It cleared a little but then closed in again. It was disappointing to be denied what is every tourist's right - a beautiful view. I felt cheated.

I heard familiar voices and turned around to see that the students had come to the same spot. We laughed and caught up with each other. Took pictures, drank freshly brewed local cardamom-flavored tea. Instantly the mood was light, even though the fog stubbornly stayed put. We got back into our vehicles and agreed to meet in town for lunch.

It struck me then that the morning's events mirrored life. Just as a clear day can suddenly turn foggy, life sometimes unexpectedly brings dark moments; you are caught off-guard, sometimes overwhelmed by the turn of events. But if you truly introspect, you will find that in each situation there is something that is redeeming. An event, a person, an interaction that is memorable. Something that gets you through the bad patch. You need to remain stable but alert to the opportunities that this turn brings into your life.

Did I have a holiday in Ooty? You bet.

Doing well vs doing good

I met a good friend after a gap of almost 3 years. It was nice to catch up on all that had happened in the intervening years. Like good friendships, this one did not need to be constantly nurtured with regular phone calls or emails. We exchanged cryptic emails and highlights of important events without getting too sentimental. It was clear that we could get back on the same wavelength that had enabled us to become friends without too much trouble.

We talked about work, family, decision-making, handling the consequences of those decisions and other esoteric topics. We had both left our jobs and moved on, except for the fact that I had decided to chart my own course as an entrepreneur and avoided the regular route of another job.

As I summarized my feelings about where I was today, 3 years since the resignation, I realized that I felt exhilarated by all that had happened. There were highs and lows but overall I felt a great sense of accomplishment for having stood on my own. I now have my own apartment, I drive my car and I employ one person in my company, in addition to sustaining and caring for my family. My circle of friends is much larger than ever before and while I know a lot of people, a lot more people know me.

"Glad to see you doing well", said my friend.

The comment stems from the obvious observation that I appear self-sufficient and pleased. But as I drove back home, I understood that my pleasure at where I find myself today rises not from doing well, but doing good.

I have left behind a lot of negative beliefs, repressive circumstances, unnecessary guilt and other baggage. I try to be a good friend, a reliable consultant, a caring employer and a sensible teacher. I try to provide excellent service and expect to be compensated accordingly. I appreciate the flow of prosperity into my life without overtly getting attached to it.

While work keeps me busy, I try to stay calm. With peace, comes contentment.

And more chances to do good.

Older and/or wiser?

I was at a birthday party a few weeks ago. While the birthday girl was turning two, the audience had members ranging from 0 to 80. And in keeping with the times, the proud parents had organized an MC of sorts to keep things lively. One silly quiz where every right answer won a prize included this trick question "What is the only thing that only goes up and does not come down?" I thought real estate in Hyderabad was the right answer but turns out that the correct response was "age".

As you grow older by a year with each birthday, accumulate knowledge and gray hair, the question that you are faced with is "Are you wiser, now that you are older?" It is a difficult question to answer. Youth and maturity do not necessarily mean foolishness and wisdom, respectively. There is no miraculous "Eureka" moment when you become a gorgeous swan from the ugly duckling you thought you were. There is no halo around your head to signify enlightenment. Perhaps there is a gentle blunting of the rough edges, a more tolerant approach to the vagaries of everyday life, a greater appreciation what you have. There is no internal fount of wisdom even though there is a great tendency to lecture others (particularly your own kids). So what does all the experience of living really bring?

I have found that while I may not have "Eureka!" moments, I do have my "Aha!" moments. The primary difference among the two is that Archimedes eureka transformed the scientific world, my "Aha' moment is uniquely beneficial only to me. It means I have made a connection, understood something that previously was an enigma and as a result there is a transformation in my level of understanding. Not making sense? Let me give you an example.

In the first two years after Aparna's birth, I struggled with the issues of being a working mother. I never had enough time for all the things I wanted to do. So I would attend workshops about work-life balance, read books with titles like "Down-shifting", and lectures about how to manage everything. In one such program, I heard a woman say that the word "balance" as in work-life balance was a bad word because it signified giving up something. She said that whatever was worth doing required more from the individual, not less. It was a matter of priority.

At that time, the stance seemed too radical to me. It was all very well for her to say it, she seemed close to retirement age, not someone with a small baby and demanding job. I felt I was obligated to give up something, if only for my sanity. Balance was essential for my well-being. I disagreed with the woman. Totally.

But last weekend I found myself at Evening Hour, my neighborhood library's first anniversary event, at about 7.30 p.m. on a rainy Saturday night. I had spent the entire day traveling to and from a town 120 km outside of Hyderabad where I worked all day, sat in thick traffic in pouring rain, in order to show solidarity with the founder, Priyanka, who had also become a good friend in these 12 months. To say I was tired, would be an understatement. But I felt it was important to show up. So I did.

The room was crowded with almost 100 people, kids, young men and women, parents of all ages and two distinguished chief guests. I heard only one part of the interaction between the chief guests and the audience but it was an uplifting event. There was genuine discussion about how to bring about change in the world, how it is enough if we make an impact on only a small number of people, it is the power of compounding that can bring about a sea change. I stayed for about 30 minutes but the positive energy of that half hour still lingers with me days later.

Today, on my birthday, I had my "aha" moment as I realized that by choosing to go to Evening Hour that day, I had not given up on any item on my to-do list but I had prioritized this activity and perhaps saved some reserves of energy to participate. I came out refreshed and much more enriched by the experience. I now understand what that lady meant by not focusing on balance. Sometime we need to strive harder to get more out of life. It requires our effort and that makes all the difference. Eureka!

Settled?

The most common question I get asked these days is “Settled?”

Everyone seems to be genuinely interested to know whether I have settled into my new place, my very own apartment, a much-anticipated event that everyone in my circle knew about. Yes, I am living in the new place but feel far from settled.

It is exactly a month since we physically loaded the stuff into a truck and brought it over. In the weeks since that day, I have traveled to three cities, spoken professionally at multiple venues and opened more boxes than I care to count. I have found household help; someone to deliver the daily paper, milk and even drinking water. I am struggling with teething troubles that are unique to first-time occupants, doors that don’t close, faucets that don’t have water and sinks that drip incessantly. An army of people walks in each day, electricians, painters, carpenters, miscellaneous hangers-on, building manager, his assistant and his helper. Most leave behind a trail of dust in their wake.

Staying in a building that is only partially occupied makes for very noisy living. There is all kinds of carpentry work going on each floor, sometimes the elevator works, at other times the generator backup forgets to turn on. There is no broadband internet connection and no landline phone, but we have cable TV! I don’t know the location of the nearest tailor or doctor or bus route. There is so much about which I know so little.

But what makes all this bearable is one helpful neighbor who lives across the corridor. Their friendly granddaughter walks in fearlessly and engages us in conversation. Uncle and Aunty are eager to share local information. As each day goes by and darkness sets in earlier each evening, I see the number of lights in the balconies increase with every moving truck that unloads its contents. Men, women, kids, grandparents, entire families enter the brand new building, hoping to make a home in a tiny part of it. There is chatter, the shrill scream of excited children, the whoosh of bicycles, the ringtones of the mobiles, garlands on doorsteps, wind-chimes in windows, symbols of life.

Life is change and change signifies movement. Nothing represents life better than this constant shifting, adjusting, moving… Settled? Not really.