Author: Alka

  • Imperialism

    Beverly Hills, Park Avenue, Eton, Stanford….., Cambridge…….
    I see these names while traveling in the heart of the capital or in and around Delhi.

    Have we lost all self respect? Doesn’t it prick our conscience a bit? If anyone is buying a flat in Gurgaon, whatever I chose to name that apartment, it will never be Beverly Hills. No matter, how hard we try if you are putting your kid in Cambridge….. in Noida, it will never be THAT Cambridge!!

    Then why we chose to imitate the western world so blatantly? Is it so difficult to shake off the colonial mentality? The current generation, hyped as generation X, have never suffered or had the pleasure of ruled by Gora Sahib, still we look up to him when we name our apartments, schools, restaurants, shops, colleges, and recognize our scholars, scientists, artists, film-makers ( We conferred Bharat Ratna to Satyajit Ray, after he won the Oscar……)

  • Hinduism in Danger?

    Why VHP, Bajrang Dal, Shiv Sena keep harping on Hindus and Hinduism? They target MNCs, McDonald’s, Pizza Hutts, KFCs, Valentines, MF Hussains, Fires, Waters, Earths ……
    Why not they give a closer look to any hep and mod crowd. Be it models, film stars, industrywallahs, socialites. They all adhere strictly to the norms of Hinduism. You will never hear: this ultra mod model fought with her Mom and Dad over the tradition of “Kanyadaan”. Instead, you will read later in her interview, “I kept weeping, and Dad kept handling me tissues, quietly. *sob* sob* sob*” Like Subhadra Kumai Chauhan (anybody care to remember her poem “Jhansi ki Rani?”) no one even shows the guts. She refused to “donate” her daughter, like an inanimate object, on the altar of marriage. So protectors of Hinduism, one of your glorious and greatest traditions is alive and kicking.

    Watch any program on sociological changes. Read any social survey, a clear majority will say, they will go for an arranged marriage and won’t marry their girlfriends/ boyfriends. Long live the tradition of Hinduism.

    By any chance, if these love marriages, are arranged, they are completed in arranged mode with all the décor and dowry intact. So another custom is safe in the custody of Yo Dudes and Yo Dudesses.

    If you work in the office, just try to keep quiet during lunch hour for one day. Listen to the talks of the females. They will tell you, O! I can not take food today. I am keeping fast on these “Sawan ke Somwar.” You ask the reason for this, and pat come the reply
    “You will end up getting a good husband.” She will impart this knowledge adjusting her sleeveless top, and tossing back her colored manes, at the same time, balancing her frame on stilettos. So this disguised Behenji will carry forward all the customs of fasts and “Karva Chauth” of Hinduism on her able shoulders.

    I don’t know what bothers the proponents and protectors of Hinduism? Why don’t they ask this government for better employment opportunities?

  • Similarity

    Moisture threatened to gather in my eyes. They became more ominous, because water drops were about to spill out. I had seen a handcuffed man, escorted by two uniformed men, for the first time in my life. I was thinking about all the things written by great philosophers, thinkers and the French Revolution and what not… He was chained like a wild beast.
    But my thinking process was broken by him.

    “Would it cross ………….?” asked the prisoner.
    “In which sector this area is located?” cross questioned the conductor.
    “In sector 44, Noida.” replied the prisoner.
    Like us, his voice was agitated, his forehead having many frowns, teeth peeping out from the slightly opened mouth. He was eager to reach his destination. Then he conveyed the whole message to the uniformed personnel.
    “Come on! Come on! This will go,” they said in unison. The way, we do it with friends on a bus stop!!!

  • I am OK & You are OK

    I am reading this interesting book “I am OK & You are OK” by A. Harris. I find it surprising when he states that EVERY child concludes in the very early phase of his life that HE IS NOT OK! This kept me glued to the book.
    That is what Dr Harris says
    ___________________________________________________

    Very early in life every child concludes, “I am not OK”. He makes this conclusion about his parents, also: ” You are OK” This is the first thing he figures out in his life-long attempt to make sense of himself and the world in which he lives. This position, “I am NOT OK & You are OK”, is the most deterministic decision of his life. It is permanently recorded and will influence everything he does. Because it is a decision it can be changed by a new decision. But not until it is understood.

    Many people insist they had a “Happy childhood” and concluded nothing like “I am not OK & You are OK”.

    There is a bright side. In the child is also a vast store of positive data. In the child are recorded the countless, grand a-ha experiences, the firsts in the life of a small person, the first drinking from the garden hose, the first stroking of the soft kitten, the first sure hold on mother’s nipples, the rhythmic OK of mother’s rocking, the sentient softness of the favorite blanket. However, our observations both of small children and of ourselves as grown-ups convince us that the NOT OK feeling far outweigh the good.

    I believe strongly that every child concludes it (“I am not OK & You are OK”), “happy childhood” notwithstanding. It is essential to keep in mind what the I�M NOT OK � YOU�RE OK, position means to the three year old. I AM NOT OK means: I am two feet tall, I am helpless, I am defenseless, I am dirty, nothing I do is right, I am clumsy, and I have no words with which to try to make you understand how it feels. YOU ARE OK means: You are six feet tall, you are powerful, you are always right, you have all the answers, you are smart, you have life or death control over me, and you can hit me and hurt me, and it IS still OK.

    This conclusion and the continual experiencing of the unhappy feelings which led to it are recorded permanently in the brain and can not be erased. This permanent recording is the residue of having been a child. Any child. Even the child of kind, loving, well meaning parents. It is the situation of childhood and not the intention of the parents which produces the problem.
    ____________________________________________________
    What sets me thinking is this line:
    ____________________________________________________

    When the children of the �good� parents carry the �NOT OK� burden, one can begin to appreciate the loads carried by children whose parents are guilty of gross neglect, abuse and cruelty.

  • Winner or Rat Racer ????

    Everybody knows Primary education in India is in a dire state. There are lots and lots of primary schools without any building and teacher. They only exist on paper. And money sanctioned by government for these schools beeps in the bank account of government officers as their hearts leap for India. Then I hear this news.

    It certainly came as a surprise. The guy was making news for not getting highest pay package after passing out from Indian Harvard (IIM – Ahmedabad) but refusing to join any of the Big Bosses.

    What is he doing? Has he gone mad? Mothers leave toddlers, sons their parents and wives their husbands to get that kind of salary and career. What about fancy cars, gold cards, frequenting hip and happening joints? YOU CAN NOT CHILL OUT GUYS AND GALS WITHOUT THESE. Its oxygen for generation X! I don’t know how he will survive without oxygen! HOW WILL HE HAVE FUN? My heart goes out for that innocent boy. He is tilting towards sageness in the prime of his youth. And what for? He wants to open a primary school!!! Huh! I agree it is the prime need for Indian toddlers. But chilling out and having fun is above all.

    He is committing a serious mistake by refusing to roll in money.
    But I wish him all the best and if I were a believer I would have prayed for him too. But more than some cosmic power to take care of our needs I believe in sanity and fairness of human mind to solve our own problems. So Vardan Kabra bravo and congrats for not being the part of the rat race. This world needs more and more people like you.

    ==========
    A New Addition
    Here is a mail from Mr. Vardan Kabra himself. Any of you who wants to get in touch with him can do so.

    Hi all,

    Thanks a lot for the encouragement and the great comments.

    I really do hope and my team and I are able to do something worthwhile.

    In case any of you want to get in touch with me, send us a mail on fountainhead_schools@yahoo.com

    Thanks and regards,

    Vardan Kabra

    ==================

  • Legendry Love Stories

    I was watching National geographic. Its awe inspiring when you see any natural setting in its full glory. Suddenly the screen showed big majestic elephants in desert. An old couple was filming them. That couple was together for 35 years spending major chunk of their lives in wilderness.
    Suddenly my mind reeled back to all the novels, movies and serials I have seen or read. My brain was busy browsing the so called greatest love stories of all the times. Most of them ended in tragedy. None of the couple were given the chance to test their love in the mundane affairs of boring daily lives, where you grapple with broken water pipes, non functioning fans and its regulators, depositing various bills, extracting superhuman power to keep the house clean, your maid is always on the lookout for some excuse, even if you are sipping tea, your ears are attuned to the motor which is filling the tank. Either single or married, we all face these necessary evils. I wonder what sort of love these so called legendry lovers would have shared if they survived full term of their lives.

    Now I was watching the program with totally different angle. This couple, even if they have started out in their twenties, has spent their lifetime in un-treaded terrain. They might not manage candle lit dinners in romantic surroundings, soft music playing on, a waiter hovering discreetly in the background at your beck and call, some exotic smelling incense burning, softly lit surroundings and what not. They might not have a million dollar villa and he might not come home everyday with flowers for the lady and they might not make love by fireplace in drawing room.
    But are not they living embodiment of deep love and affection? These rough terrains often bring out the worst in you, when you don’t have the security of a house and modern amenities to soothe your frayed nerves. And this couple is together for thirty five years! How young, healthy, dynamic and contended they look! Without speaking how they converse with eyes even in their fifties. How affectionate their body language was. How attuned they are to each other needs.
    I was watching a programme on desert elephants and their lives, but that’s what I got, maybe one of the most beautiful, heartwarming, unsung, unknown love story.

  • Maintaining First Rank in the Class

    I remember a small girl. Exceptionally bright and naughty. I think in every primary school’s exam they follow the same pattern of sitting arrangement. One junior and one senior on a single bench. That naughty girl was in fifth class. Beside her, another tiny tot of third standard used to sit. The naughty girl often completed the exam of every subject in record time. What did she do with the extra time in hand? During exam there was not much scope for mischief. So she turned her full concentration on the tiny tot, sitting beside her. After solving her own papers, she “helped” the tiny tot.

    That girl moved on to senior wing of the same school. The naughty girl had not changed much. One day she was stopped in her tracks by another girl.

    “Didi, can you recognize me?”

    “I have seen you somewhere. Right now I can not place you.”

    “Remember, I was sitting beside you, when I was in third standard.”

    “Yes, I remember.”

    “You helped me in almost each and every paper.”

    “Hummm…”

    “Didi, due to that I secured first rank in the class. I never attained even 15th rank before that.”

    “Was it really so?”

    “Yes. But getting first rank in the class was so invigorating, that I started studying very hard. And I still maintain my rank in each succeeding class.”

    That naughty girl and now not so tiny tot had a hearty laugh!

    A smile too plays on my lips whenever I remember that naughty girl and her mischief.

  • Devotion:

    I died in the prime of my youth. It was just a road accident. Within one week my soul clamored for a visit to dear earth. I was longing to see my near and dear ones. My spirit drifted to the earth. My mind was taking a trip down memory lane.

    I was a star manager. Actually I was awarded as one. I tried to learn all the tricks of trade and applied it successfully. I knew how to harass subordinates, how to detain them after office hours, how to fill them with guilt complex, if they turned up at right time but want to leave at actual departure time. Without the battery of my subordinates around me, how insecure I felt. I made life hell for employees, who didn’t have any work but unaware of the art of looking busy without any business. One employee was particularly irritating, he used to e-mail all and sundry asking if there was anything he could do today, because he was free that particular day. How incompetent I looked in front of everyone due to his behavior? I finally got him chunked out. What a relief it was. That UNDIPLOMATIC workaholic could go to hell as far as I was concerned.

    I had set many personal examples of devotedness in front of seniors and juniors. Once my father had slipped in the bathroom, and broken was bone. My mother panicked, tried locating me frantically. Well, it was not a major accident. I sent my car home. Mother could very well understand my position and could manage on her own.

    Visit to my office:
    I knew I was an indispensable employee. Everything must be in a complete mess within one week without ME! I spotted a new smart girl at my desk. She was fanatically typing something and shooting out instructions to MY juniors. The diplomatic senior manager was patting her about something.

    Visit to my home:
    My father was dusting my PC. My room was exactly the same, before I died. I used to control office from this PC, whenever I fell sick. Very delicately, he dusted off my keyboard. The only new addition was my photograph beside my PC. Suddenly sitting down, as if for support, he stared at my snap. What was he doing? Breaking down like a child. As if sensing his mood, mother rushed in the room. Now both were hugging and crying together! His ankle was still cast in the plaster. I remember sending the car, when mother told me about his accident.

  • Fifteen Minutes of Fame

    I was reading in Thelosthighway, how a winner of Nobel Prize in literature in 2001 and his wife were having identity crisis with a kid who might be in the age bracket of his great-grandson. He was visiting IIT-Delhi for some convocation. I remember one more incident, where the same Nobel Laureate was shouting on a lady, terming her illiterate and demanding an apology from her. And SHE DID APOLOGIZE. I was watching Salman Khan hitting journalists at a news channel. Did nobody have the enough courage to deliver him a punch? Just once? Even in self defence. Do we want a portion of them, even if it is humiliating to the core?

    Whatever I read in Thelosthighway, didn’t surprise me. But what surprises me is why people put up with such kind of rotten behaviour? Are we becoming too awed with “15 Minutes Fame Theory”? Is this prompts us to bear with absurd behaviour of celebrities? Why not someone talk back to these people? Does interacting with somebody famous for few minutes or rather whole life make you special? Will some of the greatness (rudeness) rub on us? Have we become so insecure that we don’t even think for a while what a high price we are paying for our Fifteen Minutes fame?

    What prompt these types of people to misbehave? Have they never read history? What happened to the high and mighty? Not even the Britain and Her Empire: where the sun never sets? What makes these people so insecure? What kick they derive out of humiliating a student who might not even spent ninteen years on this earth or a non descript Professor? What will they achieve? What sort of spurt in creativity will they get?

  • Emergence of Middle Class

    Since independence, India was neither fortunate enough to have a charismatic leader like Turkey’s Mustafa Kamal Pasha, who could have taken the nation to the path of development single-handedly, nor had we inherited the sound infrastructure, robust economy or institutions from our previous rulers which could have led us to development automatically. We had build our nation brick by brick and had various achievements to our credit such as emergence of professionals, preserving and propagating the institution of democracy, maintaining the freedom of speech and press, retaining the unity & integrity of the country, combating terrorism for decades, conserving by and large the secular characteristics of the society, registering rapid progress in the field of agriculture and defense through research and development. The corridor of India’s major achievements passes through one single passage-educated middle class.

    The key to development lies in man’s mind. From here, he conceives ideas, develops institutions, in which his thinking finds an expression and creates opportunities to realize his goals. In India, this responsibility was borne by middle class. Because upper rich class exists in minuscule minority and hence unable to make a mark in national development and population living below poverty line is busy in sustaining itself. So the mantle of nation building had fallen on the middle class.

    Emergence of middle class is not a “passive phenomenon” and it does not come out on its own. The grit, determination, stamina and putting the next generation’s needs before its own are some of the factors which make the emergence of this class possible. And today this class is acting as the architect of modern India, providing human capital not only to India but to many countries of world , working as watchdogs to preserve the highest institutions of the country, attracting global players to use India as a hub, pumping money in the economy, and adjusting well to the shifts, be it cultural, economic, technical or social. Since independence, India’s major achievement is the rise of world’s largest single middle class, on which rests the other achievements of our country.

  • 95 % of Desi Girls in US : Why so much Headweight?

    An Indian guy working abroad was looking for a would be bride in US and was lamenting their headyweightedness so much so that he posted his grief to a public messageboard.

    I found an interesting response to his rant and raves.
    =======================

    I was reading views posted in the coffeehouse. I am sorry, I can not say anything related to this topic. Because I have never been out of India. I come from a very small desi town. And I used to admire you smart guys and gals, who took up the challenges and left the comfort of your shores and ventured out into a completely foreign territory to carve a niche for yourselves. Hats off to all of you!

    Accidentally, I hit this button “Coffeehouse”. I am pleasantly surprised to learn that you guys are keeping the traditions of India alive there too. No matter how educated, accomplished, academic you guys and gals are. You are born “Indian”. You cannot leave the tradition of browsing “gals” and “guys” for marriage “reason” just like we pick up cassettes in Planet M.

    You might not be as crass as we real Indians are, flexing your financial muscles, and settling for a good financial deal. But still you are the guardian of the true Indian spirit, even in the foreign land. See, the way deals are finalized in corporate world. Someone contacting someone to float the tender, then concerned parties meet (here you can argue, unlike India we leave the guys and gal alone. In US the whole family is not hovering in the background. Well, well thanks for the improvement). Discussions are held. Parties are sized up. If everything goes well, and the packages are attractive, then deal is struck. Anyway the corporate deals are a bit sophisticated.

    I was under the impression, that you guys have the real “open” environment to meet the girls of any nationality, and at least one of them really touches your heart’s cord and you really find someone to whom you can talk to hours relate to as a person. But thanks for letting me know that you guys carry a “very small DESI town of India” there too, in your academically brilliant heads.

  • Nalanda – Ocean of Knowledge

    Nalanda

    Relax and enjoy:

    I was reading about Nalanda university and its ancient glory. How this university had introduced astronomy as a separate branch from mathematics. It was the world’s first residential international university. It functioned uninterrupted for 700 years. The Chinese pilgrim Hieun Tsang was awe struck with the size of its library. The university attracted scholars and students from all over the world. But these damn news channels make sure to destroy any romanticism, even if it exists in my imagination and distant past. But I will not give up. I will continue being an optimist.

    The ancient glory of Nalanda might be restored:

    These days the TV news is infested with elections and various bright candidates who will decide our destiny.
    I was listening to the profile of a future candidate.
    The broadcast media was flashing the story of successful man, somehow named as RANJIT DON. He is a highly successful person by page 3 standard. I have written this line after checking the entire yardstick from that revered page. He was about to buy a helicopter, has huge mansions in many cities, a fleet of expensive cars, in short he was (will) living life king-size. He is a hard core social worker. One of his grand acts was letting the CAT out of the bag. According to various media (controlled by his rivals) reports, he “leaked questions of medical, engineering, banking and other key exams, helping affluent clients to respectable jobs without having to burn the midnight oil.”

    Finally all of my doubts were laid to rest when he declared the intention of contesting elections from Nalanda, his hometown. Earlier this place produced one of the greatest scholars Nagarjuna and NOW Ranjit. WOW!

    Whenever I hear the name of Nalanda, I associated it with the Grand University. If Ranjitji would be elected by the Janata Janardan, I know he WILL make it his mission to restore the ancient glory of Nalanda University.

  • Experiments

    I was reading Amar’s blog today. He has given pretty interesting insights into experimenting. His blog sets me thinking too, though on entirely different lines. I narrowed down my thinking on those who experiment with hearts! Not with their own hearts but with others.

    When I am in the mood, I keep on experimenting with different hearts at the same time. In this, I use my God given gift of convincing every heart that his is special from others! Therefore please don’t mind the presence of other simultaneous hearts in my life. His will always remain unique! When I turn back, I see my path littered with broken, unbroken, sullen, shining, leaping and beeping hearts. I try to remember to whom they belong, but my excellent memory often fails me. Now it has become a hobby for me to experiment with hearts of all shapes and size.

    But these experiments put me in the social worker’s category. I help guys do self analysis. Most of them will keep wondering for the rest of their lives what hit them. Those fools will never pause and think that I am beyond repair just like Veerappan. But I will never be considered in his category unless people realize the extent of damage caused by emotional violence. I will keep having the time of my life till then.

    Where this experimenting leaves me as a human being? Ha! Ha! Ha! Who cares! I HAVE GOT ONLY ONE LIFE. Let me have my fun!

  • Love

    It means,
    He respects your principles as his,
    And never plays with them.
    It means,
    He honors your faith,
    Without tempering with it.
    It means,
    He gives his soul to you,
    To guard it.
    It means,
    Not losing your self respect,
    But giving your self respect to him,
    And He will never abuse it.
    It means,
    Handling his secrets,
    Knowing you will never whisper them again,
    Even to yourself.
    Love,
    It means,
    You are not tradable,
    With anything.

  • President’s wife

    I have specially set aside the “The Asian Age” of 17th & 20th January 2004 for writing this post. “The Asian Age” recently collaborated with “The New York Times”. I have read one statement made by the wife of the presidential candidate Howard Dean.

    January 20th 20004, carried this screaming headline:-
    “Dean’s wife joins him for strategic day of rallying”
    What’s the big deal? I thought secretly. But actually it was.

    She had to explain:-
    “We have a son in high school, a daughter in college, and I have a medical practice in Vermont with patients that depend on me daily.”

    Why was she explaining this to the educated, modern, permissive, believers in gender equality crowd? I don’t know the reaction of actual public, but how she was perceived by the above mentioned media? Same, as a person belonging to a remote village in our country, who has not even remotely touched by the modern time’s ideologies. “Pati ka saath dena hi Bhartiya naari ka Dharma hai.” Have a flourishing career of your own, but make sure to be beside your husband. I never expected to read it in “The New York Times” penned by a head to toe modern looking disguised Behenji.

    It’s amazing how we expect the same role from the woman, no matter in which part of the globe she resides.

    As far as I as a common person goes, I can have the history of 1, 2, 3, or 4, or (fill in the blanks yourself) …………failed relationships. But our representatives? O! They have to marry their high school sweet heart(s)! I might not be able to lead the life I want but I would not tolerate my representative’s unhappy/unusual married life. Theirs should be picture perfect.

    If you are running for the presidency of United States and allow your wife to pursue her profession seriously, then it is termed as unusual relationship and both of you need tips on togetherness and building a healthy political wedding! (Figure out yourself what kind of wedding is this!)

    Your man really gives you space to do what you want to do but media will term the wife as a ghost wife. What I deciphered from the columnist – OK play Doctor Doctor. But abandon your patients, give a damn if their survival depends on you, and be at your husbands side, with all the coiffures and adornments. For what? O! Just to hold his hand on inane occasions. Hug him; kiss him, spare interesting glances at right junctures, smile at him at appropriate moments. In fact you have to put on display – your tuning with your husband to the whole world at the slightest opportunity.

    Reporter’s another concern was Deans have not subscribed to Cable T.V.! Therefore she can not watch her husband virtually also. If the columnist only has an iota of inkling of the demanding career of a medical practitioner and mother of grown up kids, she would have came out with an intelligent piece of work.

    One political reporter’s greatest worry was;
    “What will she tell their Grandkids?”
    I think her answer could be anything but this,
    “I ignored my duty, abandoned my patients, left your mom/ dad to their own devices, and cheered your Grandpa who was once a front-runner for President.”

  • Entrepreneurship on Scooter

    Last year I was coming back home after work
    It’s a normal routine for any working female (at least that is what I think). But for a few its god send opportunity for an alternative employment or maybe side business for entrepreneurial bend of mind. Two guys riding a scooter first tried to come near me. In basketball they teach you how to stick out your elbows. I was preparing my elbows for the impending action. But alas there was no need. They simply tried to snatch my handbag. O no! What about my ATM? The keys of my sister’s flat? The money? The keys of my own apartment? I kept a tight hold on the strings of my purse.

    Wow! In Kanpur they still make the best and authentic leather purses! The strings did not snap! My countless thanks to the creator of the purse The tussle went on between the guy in the back seat ( the other one was driving. Good example of team work. I wonder which management school he went to!). My countless laps of free style and butterfly swimming must have done something to my arms or was it the punishment doled out by our Taek-wan-Do coach to keep doing push-up on merely two or three fingers (O! the revered coach. While writing all this I am bowing to him. Ok at least mentally. But that time he looked like the incarnation of emotionless devil ).

    Suddenly I remember my brother whispering to me, when something untoward happens, scream with all your might. That was what I did. Yes, the scooter was in the mound of a sand and the two chum bum were totally panicking by now. Taking the cue my rickshawallah too started shouting. Though he abandoned his Rickshaw along with me sitting on the same. Well I never thought too intensely why Gandhiji never liked the idea of being in Rickshaw). In a flash of a second, I found both knees in the sand mound but my hands still holding the strings of my purse.

    By now, both the fellows had bowed down to external factors present in their little entrepreneurship, and left their project. I just remember I was clutching someone’s hand in the crowd for support and asking him,
    “Please call the Ricksawallh, I still have not paid him.”
    Poor fellow! He never intended to be a party to this little endeavor. I paid him whatever came out from my……. (No! No! This was my sister’s purse. But things inside it were MINE. Very generously she lends out her things to me. But what is the big deal. God precisely made sisters for this purpose.)

    I don’t remember how I reached home. For the first time in my life I understood the meaning of why people say the best place in the world — MY ROOM. But then the panic and fear struck with its full force. I could not restrain myself. I was crying like anything and my hands were shivering so much they were simply incapable of holding a glass!!!!!

    Today when I remember this incident I am filled with two regrets, first not registering the case in the nearest police station and second I failed my emotionless devils known as our Taek-wan-Do coaches. I could not use a simple side kick. I console myself that my ankle was swollen and I was barely able to walk at that time and I hurt the same ankle again along with my knees (the reason for me landing up in a rickshaw). But you always know when you cook up excuses.

  • Totally egalitarian, self-organized, self-managed companies

    Few days ago I have posted extracts from a book called “Maverick” by Ricardo Semler. I was impressed with the author (he had gone to Harvard Business School not to learn their management skills but to teach them his management skills. I like these kinds of people for whom life is beyond Harvard, MIT, IAS, IIMs, IITs) and his way of managing his companies in somewhat different manner. The whole book was so absorbing and interesting that I had developed murderous tendencies towards those who tried to disturb me while I was engrossed in the book. My good friend Lokesh had suggested visiting this link.

    After reading the page suggested by Lokesh, I just wanted to say my intension was not to project Semco ( the corporate) as an uncensored unit.I was not talking about an egalitarian system or welfare system. Ricardo Semler too did not talk about it. He always maintained that his corporate is not like a happy family unit. This book just struck me as different from others that is why I posted the extracts from it. I was not talking about totally egalitarian, self-organized, self-managed and founded on principles of members’ happiness and well-being, not growth and shareholders’ profit organizations.

    In his book the author himself claimed that standards are pretty high at Semco and those who do not perform are kicked out by the workers themselves. The difference is here. The same is the case with salary. If someone is setting extraordinarily high salary for himself/herself, they find themselves frozen out by the workers themselves. This way workers and employees know how an enterprise function, they identify with the company and in certain instances at Semco they protested against a high bonus for themselves because they know in the long run how they ( workers & employees) will bear the burnt of it. So it is all about learning about the intricacies of running a business by workers and not like organizations you and me work where nobody knows what is happening in the company, how owner and their efficient CAs are cooking the books
    ( Remember Arthur & Anderson, Enron? The list is endless) and the shareholders who have invested their life’s savings will be out in the open? I find it heartening that at Semco workers don’t have a schoolmaster warped in sophisticated word called “supervisor”. To whom they ask “Sir/Mam can I go to toilet?

    Actually it’s a bit difficult to truly understand the principles of participative management, delegation of power and of Ricardo Semler’s open channels of communication. Because right from the beginning we are conditioned to thing, act, behave in certain manner. And companies try to mould our minds further, just as our parents do since childhood. Most of us are working in companies where we get information from grapevines, where we are treated like schoolboys/girls, our bosses told us what to wear and what not to (but not as bluntly as I am putting it, it is fed to us as “organizational Culture”) where workers are stereotyped as thieves and a body search is carried out when they leave the office premises. At Semco management stopped body search of workers. From where the loudest noise came? From the workers themselves! Their main concern was they would be held responsible if “something” happened. They didn’t want self respect. How as human being we let companies capture our minds and ultimately our dignity.

  • Stephen Hawking

    Stephen Hawking

    I read this deeply disturbing news of Prof. Stephen Hawking suffering mysterious injuries for the past few years. Here I don’t want to discuss the person behind his injuries, BUT the sheer act of audacity the attacker possesses.

    We all know that Professor is one of the greatest surviving intellectuals on this earth. This severely disabled scientist is suffering from motor neuron disease, needs round-the-clock care and speaks with a computerized voice box. He can only move his few fingers. After taking stock of the nature of his illness everybody had given him few years on this earth to survive. But for the past forty years he was fooling the medical world by his sheer grit, determination, longevity and stubbornness. But till now he failed to fool his attacker, even refuses to identify him / her and is showing the same characteristic stubbornness.

    What amazes me is the psychology of the attacker. For a normal human being, it will be difficult to speak harshly to him, he looks so frail. Before touching him, you will think seriously whether it will hurt him? Forget about leaving him stranded in the garden on the hottest day of the year without his voice box so he could not even call anyone for help.

    While reading all this I was seething with impotent anger. We bow to the persons if we chance upon to know that he / she is an alumnus of Cambridge, Harvard, MIT or nearer home IIT. Though we know that every year thousands and thousands of them get selected in these institutes. But Stephen Hawking! We don’t know when someone like him will appear on this earth again. He is just like one of our humanity’s precious possessions. Once lost we will never ……….

    I also remember one of the India’s great Mathematician Prof. Vashishtha Narayan. I think he is now in a Bangalore’s mental hospital. His greatest mistake in life? I think he chucked his lucrative research projects in America and decided to serve his motherland known as India. And that is what we have given to him. Confined him to a mental hospital. About him I will write later how he reached to that state. Though for the past few years I tried to keep a tab on him by searching the net. But among the trillions of net pages I could not find a single reference to him.

    But right now, I am just hoping that Prof Hawking will leave his stubbornness and co-operate with authorities. If I would not have been an atheist I might have prayed for him. But right now all I have left is to hope that Prof would finally realize his self worth and don’t allow anyone to take such kind of liberties with him.

  • Capitalism Or Socialism?

    Warning: Long post. Read at your own risk

    These days, I am reading a book “Maverick” by Ricardo
    Semler.
    A few samples……

    ===============================================================

    Every Wednesday afternoon dozens of men and women file through the front gate on their way to a third floor meeting room at Semco, the company I lead in Sao Paulo, Brazil. The guard at the entrance has been expecting them. For years now, executives from some of the biggest and best known companies in the world, IBM, General Motors, Ford, Kodak, Bayer, Nestle, Goodyear, Firestone, Pirelli, Alcoa, BASF, Chase Manhattan, Siemens, Dow Chemical, Mercedes-Benz and Yashica among them, have been making an unlikely pilgrimage to our nondescript industrial complex on the outskirts of the city.

    Semco manufactures an impressively varied roster of products, including pumps that can empty oil tanker in a night, dishwasher capable of scrubbing 4,100 plates an hour, cooling units for air conditioners that keep huge office towers comfortable during the most sweltering heat waves, mixers that blend everything from rocket fuel to bubble gum, and entire biscuit factories, with 6,000 separate components and 16 miles of wiring. But it is not what Semco makes that has executives and management experts the world over waiting months for a chance to tour our plants and offices. It is the way the people of Semco make it.

    When I took over Semco from my father 12 years ago, it was a traditional company in every respect, with a pyramidal structure and a rule for every contingency. But today our factory workers sometimes set their own production quotas and even come in their time to meet them, without prodding from management or overtime pay. They help redesign the products they make and formulate the marketing plans. Their bosses, for their part, can run our business units with extraordinary freedom, determining business strategy without interference from the top brass. They even set their own salaries, with no strings. Then again, everyone will know what they are, since all financial – information at Semco is openly discussed.

    Indeed our workers have unlimited access to our books ( and we keep one set). To show we are serious about this, Semco, with the labor unions that represent our workers, developed a course to teach everyone, even messengers and cleaning people, to read balance sheets and cash flow statements.

    For truly big decisions, such as buying another company, everyone at Semco gets a vote. A few years ago, when we wanted to relocate a factory, we
    closed down for a day and everyone piled into buses to inspect three possible new sites. Then the workers decided. Their choice hardly thrilled us, since it was
    next to a company that was frequently on strike. But while no one in management wanted front row seats to labor-management strife, we moved in anyway. In the lobby of our headquarters, a standard-issue office building with four floors of steel and glass, there is a reception desk but receptionist. That’s the first clue that we are different.

    We don’t have receptionists. We don’t think they are necessary, despite all our visitors. We don’t have secretaries either, or personal assistants. We don’t believe in cluttering the payroll with ungratifying, dead-end jobs. Everyone at Semco, even top managers, fetches guests, stands over photocopiers, send faxes, type letters, and dials the phone. We don’t have executive dining rooms and parking is strictly first-come, first-served. It’s all part of running a natural ‘business’.

    At Semco we have stripped away the unnecessary perks and privileges that feed the ego but hurt the balance sheet and distract everyone from the crucial corporate tasks of making, selling, billing and collecting. Our offices don’t even have the usual number of walls. Instead, a forest of plans separates the desks, computers and drawing boards in our work areas. The mood is informal: some people wear suits and ties or dresses, others jeans and sneakers. It does not matter. If people want to emulate Thomas Watson and don white button-downs, that’s fine. But turtleneck and T-shirts are okay, too. And I want our people to feel free to put their feet on their desks, just like me.

    I am pleased to report that more than once a group of Semco executes has been interrupted by people who wanted to use their conference room to hold a birthday party. They use my room in office to hold conferences. Sometimes when I enter in my room, someone was sitting in my chair, using my phone. I have to wait on visitors’ sofa for the meeting to get over.

    We have a sales manager named Rubin Agater who sits there reading the newspaper hour after hour, not even making a pretence of looking busy. I am sure this mystifies some of our visitors. Most modern managers would not tolerate it. But when a Semco pump on an oil tanker on the other side of the world fails and millions of gallons of oil are about to spill into the sea, Rubin springs into action. He knows everything there is to know about our pumps and how to fix them. That’s when he earns his salary. No one cares if he
    doesn’t look busy the rest of the time.

    My office is on the fourth floor – at least it was the last time I looked, I don’t use it much as other proprietors. Most mornings I work at home. I
    concentrate better there, despite two sheepdogs that like to bark when I am on the phone to important customers. I encourage other Semco managers to work at home, too. I also take at least two months off each year to travel, and I like to roam far.
    There are pictures in my office from two recent expeditions, a balloon safari in Tanzania and a trek through the Khyber pass in Afghanistan. I never leave a number where I can be reached when I am away and I don’t call in. I want everyone at Semco to be self sufficient.

    The company is organized – well, maybe that’s not quite the right word for us – not to depend too much on any individual, especially me. I take it as a
    point of pride that twice on my return from long trips my office has been moved – and each time it got smaller. My role is that of a catalyst. I try to create an environment in which others make decisions. Success means not making them myself.

    One of my first acts at Semco was to throw out the rules. All companies have procedural bibles. Some look like encyclopedia Britannica. Who needs all those rules? They discourage flexibility and comfort the complacent. At Semco, we stay away from formulas and try to keep our minds open. I knew our rule book was useless, when as a test, I once distributed some additional pages for it. I asked some managers to read the new sections and give me their reaction. Almost everyone said they were just fine. Trouble was, I had stapled the pages together so they could not be read without first prying them apart. Funny how no one mentioned that. All the new employee at Semco get today is a 20 page booklet we call The Survival Manual. It has lots of cartoons but few words. The basic message : Use your common sense. If you have not guessed by now, Semco’s standard policy is no policy.

    Many companies have entire departments that generate mountains of paperwork trying to control their employees. Take travel. They have rules how much a person can spend in every possible situation. At Semco, we want our people to spend whatever they think they should, as if they were taking a trip on their own, with their own money.

    There is no department, no rules, no audits. If we were afraid to let people decide in which section of the plane to sit, or how many stars their hotel
    should have, we should not be sending them abroad to do business in our name, should we?

    We have absolute trust in our employees. In fact, we are partners with them. On the assumption that a capitalist society must be capitalist for all, Semco has a profit sharing plan – but with a difference. Typically companies hand over these plans like god handed Moses the commandments. The owners decide who gets what, when. At Semco, profit-sharing is democratic. We negotiated with our workers over the basic percentage to be distributed – about a quarter of our corporate profits, as it turned out – and they hold assemblies to decide how to split it. It’s up to them. Profit sharing has worked so well that once during negotiation over a new labor contract, a union leader argued that too big a raise would overextend the company.

    Some people have likened the Semco philosophy to socialism, in the old Eastern European sense. I think we are proving that worker involvement does not mean that bosses lose power. What we do strip away is the blind, irrational authoritarianism that diminishes productivity. We are thrilled that our workers are self-governing & self-managing. It means that they care about their jobs and about their company and that’s good for all of us.

    In restructuring Semco, we’ve picked the best from many systems. From capitalism we take the ideals of personal freedom, individualism and competition. From the theory, not the practice, of socialism we have
    learnt to control greed and share information and power. The Japanese have taught us the value of flexibility, although we shrink from their family-like ties to the company and their automatic veneration of elders. We want people to advance because of competence, not longevity or conformity.

    When you eliminate rigid thought and hierarchical structure, things usually get messy, which is how our factories look. Instead of machines neatly aligned in long straight rows, the way Henry Ford wanted it, they are set at odd angles and in unexpected places. That’s because our workers typically work in clusters or teams, assembling a complete product, not just an isolated component. That gives them more control and responsibility, which makes them happier and our products better. Nearly all our workers have mastered seeral jobs. They even drive forklifts to keep teammates supplied with raw materials and spare parts, which they have been known to purchase themselves from suppliers.

    We have also changed the way our departments do business with each other. If one does not want to buy services from each other, it is free to go outside the company and buy from someone else. The threat of competition keeps us all on our toes. Recently we have encouraged employees to start their own companies, leasing them Semco machinery at favorable rates. We buy from our former employees; of course, they are also free to sell to others, even Semco’s competitors.

    This program has made us leaner and more agile, and given them ultimate control of their working lives. it makes entrepreneurs out of employees. We are not the only company to experiment with participative management. It’s become a fad. But so many efforts at workplace democracy are just so much hot air. Not that the intentions are bad, it is just that it’s much easier to talk about worker involvement than to implement it. We have been ripping apart Semco and putting it back together for a dozen years, and we are just 30% finished. Still the rewards have already been substantial.

    We have taken a company that was moribund and made it thrive, chiefly by refusing to squander our greatest resource, our people. Semco has grown sixfold despite withering recessions, staggering inflation and chaotic national economic policy. Productivity has increased nearly sevenfold. Profits have risen fivefold.

  • Balance Sheet

    Sending cards, instead of writing letters always saves time. Whenever need to write a letter arises, time always seems a precious commodity. What a high it is for me when I while away time in any card shop or hip and happening places. The feeling never leaves me that I have arrived! O yes, I belong to the group I always aspired for. I visited one particular Card ‘n’ Gift shop. The handsome hunk at the counter had just presented an item from the shelf to his girlfriend or rather one of his girlfriends. She was smile personified and her heart was brimming with love for the guy.

    When that hunk packed off his female friend, while entering into the shop somewhere along the way he donned his business acumen. Perhaps shadow of Daddy Dear was lurking in the corner of his mind. He strengthened out his balance sheet. Of course, he charged more from us mere lambs for our items by levying “girlfriend tax”. It only cost us few rupees.
    In such a swanky affluent shop how could we have protested for being charged extra personal tax?

    The place was not far away from my home. Why not take a Rickshaw? No point in acquiring a tan, the Sun God was hell-bent upon giving each and everyone in that June afternoon. Getting a rickshaw was no problem. I was happy after my little shopping. The days always look bright and sky so blue after a little bit of shopping. I was jolted out of my happiness by rickshawallah. A thin line of sweat was underlining his left ear. Right ear was out of my view. His shirt was clinging to his back in this oppressive heat. I wanted to get away from the scorching sun as soon as possible.

    “OK, how much?” No need to speak a full and proper sentence.
    “Rs. _ _. __”
    “How can you charge so much”?
    “Madam, its very hot. And every one charges the same amount.”
    “But I pay that amount from red signal.”
    “Here take this, or I am going”. These cute little threats never cease to be effective.
    “OK.” He simply resigned to his fate.

    Wow! That was easier. This one turned out a lamb! Others were not so obliging. They kept on arguing till few interested neighbors peeked out of their balcony or window, from wherever they could grab the crumbs of this free show.

    Entering into my room, I remembered that handsome hunk who charged me the same “extra” I saved from my rickshaw ride. I evened out my balance sheet too. I was happy with my smartness.