Life experience – A New Beginning

My God! What have we done?

Atomic Dome today

The bomb exploded 600 meters above the city. A blinding flash of light, a thumping boom and more than 50,000 people were dead. Those who survived were destined to suffer from the horrendous effects of radiation linked diseases and mental trauma over months and years.

I was at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, watching the recreation of 6^th August 1945, that fateful day when ‘fat boy’, the first Atomic Bomb, was dropped and detonated over the city of Hiroshima.

A detailed cinematic view of how Hiroshima would have looked on that day was being projected from the ceiling on a large circular surface. It was akin to looking at the city from above. I could see the city scape with cars, vehicles and streetcars moving on the roads, boats sailing on the river channels and the concentration of buildings in the city Centre. A city like any other, with people going about their daily chores. Doing what they should, thinking of tomorrow, aspiring for a better future.

***Hiroshima on 6th August 1945 morning***

**Street cars on Hiroshima streets on 6th Aug. 1945 morning**

Then the bomb comes into view. Pirouetting and gyrating as it falls in slow motion. If I had not known what it was, it did not look menacing at all. And then it explodes. A writhing, swirling engulfment by crimson flames, smoke and a mushrooming cloud blocks out everything. When visibility returns, I can see nothing on the ground except a few building structures standing; everything else had been obliterated.

***Hiroshima on 6th August 1945 after the Bomb***

As I meandered through the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, looking at the exhibits, the graphic visuals and reading the quotes of unknown people of eighty years back, little did I realise the mind-altering experience it was having for me.

A visit to Japan and Hiroshima had been on my bucket list for a long time. My dad used to frequently tell me stories about his trip to Japan in the nineteen fifties. Japan was barely a few years beyond the great war when all its cities had been devastated by American bombing. But as per my dad, it’s veritable phoenix like ‘rise from the ashes’ was a testimony to the Japanese indomitable spirit.

Moving out of the Museum, I strolled through the Hiroshima Peace Memorial gardens. I could see the skeletal remains of the Atom Bomb dome, now a UNESCO heritage site. Interestingly, it was the only building close to the nuclear blast which remained standing. Today, it remains a mute reminder to an event which should never have happened.

***The Atomic Dome buiding after the bombing***

In between the Museum and the Atomic Dome is the memorial cenotaph, a saddle shaped monument in remembrance of all those whose life got so suddenly snuffed out by the atomic bomb.

The park, nestled as it is between the gently flowing waters of two river canals, has a tear shaped outline. Does it signify the tear drops of the holocaust survivors as they went about looking for their near and dear ones all those years ago? I wondered………

***Peace memorial garden- the river canal***

As I walked under the afternoon sun, the images and the writings in the museum danced and coalesced in my mind. The perceptions of the victor and the vanquished. How those perceptions led to differing narratives and actions. Those contrasting threads of recorded history about what led to what happened and how what happened showed up for the unaware Hiroshima dwellers on that fateful day. Yes, there was a victor and a vanquished. But no winners, only losers all round ……….

**@ Hiroshima Castle which was completely destroyed by the bomb, reconstructed a few years later**

With the surrender of Germany, the Allies focus had shifted to Japan which continued to fight. The Potsdam declaration of end July 1945 threatened ‘utter destruction’ and sought an unconditional surrender of Japan, a demand that got rejected by the Japanese armed forces.

US War publicity poster

“My mother and I, aged 6, went grocery shopping. Every- one was out on their verandas, enjoying the absence of piercing warning signals. Suddenly, an old man yelled ‘Plane!’ Everyone scurried into their homemade bomb shelters. My mother and I escaped into a nearby shop. As the ground began to rumble, she quickly tore off the tatami flooring, tucked me under it and hovered over me on all fours.

Everything turned white. We were too stunned to move, for about 10 minutes. When we finally crawled out from under the tatami mat, there was glass everywhere, and tiny bits of dust and debris floating in the air. The once clear blue sky had turned into an inky shade of purple and grey…….”

-Takato Michishita, Atomic Bomb survivor

Despite brutal firebombing of more than a hundred Japanese cities and towns which led to near destruction of infrastructure and large civilian casualties, the American high command remained unconvinced about its efficacy to end the war. The firebombing of Tokyo, codenamed Operation Meetinghouse, killed an estimated hundred thousand and destroyed forty square kilometers and more than two hundred and fifty thousand buildings in a single night.

“I was three years old at the time of the bombing. I don’t remember much, but I do recall that my surroundings turned blindingly white, like a million camera flashes going off at once. Then, pitch darkness. I was buried alive under the house, I’ve been told. When my uncle finally found me and pulled my tiny three-year-old body out from under the debris, I was unconscious. My face was misshapen. He was certain that I was dead.

Thankfully, I survived. But since that day, mysterious scabs began to form all over my body. I lost hearing in my left ear, probably due to the air blast. My younger sister suffers from chronic muscle cramps to this day, on top of kidney issues that has her on dialysis three times a week. ‘What did I do to the Americans?’ she would often say, ‘Why did they do this to me?”

-Yasujiro Tanaka, Atomic bomb survivor

As a full-fledged Allied invasion and ground offensive into Japan was being planned, U.S. President Truman and his war cabinet were getting increasingly alarmed by the estimates of American casualty that would occur from such an invasion. The estimates ranged between two to four million casualties and more than half a million dead. A nation and its citizens were increasingly war fatigued. The President and his cabinet came round to the view that it would be better to use Atomic Bombs to end the war quickly and save American lives. But can such an arithmetic tradeoff justify taking the lives of innocent citizens? I wondered……

“I was eight when the bomb dropped. My older sister was 12. She left early that morning to work on a tatemono sokai (building demolition) site and never came home. My parents searched for her for months and months. They never found her remains. My parents refused to send an obituary notice until the day that they died, in hopes that she was healthy and alive somewhere, somehow.

I too was affected by the radiation and vomited profusely after the bomb attack. My hair fell out, my gums bled, and I was too ill to attend school………”

-Emiko Okada, Atomic Bomb survivor

A month before that fateful day when the Atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, the highly secretive Manhattan project in the US had produced two distinctive types of atomic weapons. The first was code named ‘Little Boy,’ a Uranium based fission chain reaction type bomb. The other was called the ‘Fat Man,’ a more sophisticated and powerful plutonium-based implosion type weapon. Nuclear Physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, now made famous by the Oscar winning movie of the same name, oversaw the research into the calculation of the fissile material critical mass and detonation.

“Then the sky turned bright white. My siblings and I were knocked off our feet and violently slammed back into the bomb shelter. We had no idea what had happened.

As we sat there shell-shocked and confused, heavily injured burn victims came stumbling into the bomb shelter en masse. Their skin had peeled off their bodies and faces and hung limply down on the ground, in ribbons. Their hair was burnt down to a few measly centimeters from the scalp. Many of the victims collapsed as soon as they reached the bomb shelter entrance, forming a massive pile of contorted bodies. The stench and heat were unbearable.”

-Shigeko Matsumoto, Atomic Bomb survivor

As the Atomic Bombs were being assembled for eventual use, simultaneously, pilots of the U.S. Air Force were getting trained on the long-distance B-29 Super fortress aircrafts which would be used to deliver the bombs.

“As my mother and I were eating breakfast, I heard the deep rumble of engines overhead. Our ears were trained back then; I knew it was a B-29 immediately. I stepped out into the field out front but saw no planes. Bewildered, I glanced to the northeast. I saw a black dot in the sky. Suddenly, it ‘burst’ into a ball of blinding light that filled my surroundings. A gust of hot wind hit my face; I instantly closed my eyes and knelt to the ground. As I tried to gain footing, another gust of wind lifted me up and I hit something hard. I do not remember what happened after that.

When I finally came to, I was passed out in front of a bouka suisou (stone water container used to extinguish fires back then). Suddenly, I felt an intense burning sensation on my face and arms, and tried to dunk my body into the bouka suisou. The water made it worse. I heard my mother’s voice in the distance. ‘Fujio! Fujio!’ I clung to her desperately as she scooped me up in her arms. ‘It burns, mama! It burns!’

I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few days. My face swelled up so badly that I could not open my eyes. I was treated briefly at an air raid shelter and later at a hospital in Hatsukaichi, and was eventually brought home wrapped in bandages all over my body.”

-Fujio Torikoshi, Atomic Bomb survivor

Just after 2 am on 6^th August 1945, three B-29s took off from the island of Tinian and proceeded on their six-hour flight to Japan. One of them, the Enola Gay, carried the Little Boy atomic bomb. The bomb was released and detonated over Hiroshima just after eight in the morning. The radius of destruction was two kilometers with fires raging over eleven square kilometers.

“One incident I will never forget is cremating my father. My brothers and I gently laid his blackened, swollen body atop a burnt beam in front of the factory where we found him dead and set him alight. His ankles jutted out awkwardly as the rest of his body was engulfed in flames. My oldest brother suggested that we take a piece of his skull – based on a common practice in Japanese funerals in which family members pass around a tiny piece of the skull with chopsticks after cremation – and leave him be.

As soon as our chopsticks touched the surface, however, the skull cracked open like plaster and his half-cremated brain spilled out. My brothers and I screamed and ran away, leaving our father behind. We abandoned him, in the worst state possible.”

-Yoshiro Yamawaki, Atomic Bomb survivor.

From the Enola Gay, the crew saw “a giant purple mushroom” that was boiling upward and had reached much above the aircraft altitude. At the base of the cloud, fires were springing up everywhere amid a turbulent mass of smoke that had the appearance of bubbling hot tar. The city that had been clearly visible in the sunlight a few minutes ago, had completely disappeared under smoke and fire. Captain Robert Lewis, co-pilot of Enola Gay, wrote in his log, “My God! What have we done?”

“The injured were sprawled out over the railroad tracks, scorched and black. When I walked by, they moaned in agony. ‘Water… water…’. I heard a man in passing announce that giving water to the burn victims would kill them. I was torn. I knew that these people had hours, if not minutes, to live. These burn victims – they were no longer of this world.

‘Water… water…’

I decided to look for a water source. Luckily, I found a futon nearby engulfed in flames. I tore a piece of it off, dipped it in the rice paddy nearby, and wrang it over the burn victims’ mouths. There were about 40 of them. I went back and forth, from the rice paddy to the railroad tracks. They drank the muddy water eagerly. Among them was my dear friend Yamada. ‘Yama- da! Yamada!’ I exclaimed, giddy to see a familiar face. I placed my hand on his chest. His skin slid right off, exposing his flesh. I was mortified. ‘Water…’ he murmured. I wrang the water over his mouth. Five minutes later, he was dead.

In fact, most of the people I tended to were dead…….”

-Inosuke Hayasaki, Atomic Bomb survivor

Epilogue: The final death toll in Hiroshima from the bomb was close to 150,000 people, mostly civilians. An event which led to Japan surrendering nine days later, effectively ending the great war.

Despite heightened awareness of the ‘end of Humanity’ risk posed by nuclear weapons, the cold war between the U.S. and the erstwhile U.S.S.R. ensured continued stockpiling of these very weapons.

In Remembrance…… Shakti Ghosal

Acknowledgements:

Time Magazine ‘After the Bomb’, 1985.
Wikipedia: ‘Atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki’
Several of the photos used are from the exhibits in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

What to do when the world stinks

Some years back, I had a Divisional head join the team.

The guy had impressed the recruiting board with his talk of ‘track record’ and ‘ideas’ about how he planned to transform the business. When I got around to have a chat with him, he seemed to be all humility and spoke of his own self development through working and learning from me. But several subsequent events seemed to indicate that at the sniff of a challenge, his self-serving shield would go up, a lot of talk about blaming the environment and others in the team would emerge but not much action on the ground. In the meanwhile, the company kept losing competent and productive staff as well as customer accounts; his oft repeated declaration about ‘brickwalling’ them did not seem to be working.

To me it appeared that the Divisional Head did not know what he was working to develop; he was definitely not working on his own leadership. When I again had a chat with him, what came up were several blames. ‘That he had not bargained for the kind of work he was now being expected to do.’ ‘That I was failing to support him adequately.’ ‘That he was stuck with incompetent team members.’

In a nutshell, the job stank, I as the boss stank and the team stank! I did not have the heart to ask the guy that if the world all around stank, could it be that he himself was the problem?

How many of you have faced a similar situation at the workplace? If you have, have you wondered what one might need to do to transform the situation?

The world can shift when one shows up with authenticity and with humility.

Transformation:

When we see ourselves as the problem, we can be the solution too. We need to spend more time working on our own selves rather than trying to fix others.
Do we have the expectation that our team members should be the harbinger of good news and developments? We need to lower that expectation.
Empathy is a strong word; being empathetic is easier said than done. Nonetheless we need to practice putting ourselves in the shoes of others and seeing the world through their lens.
Gain the realization that others do not really humble us; we humble ourselves.
Show up as a servant leader. A leadership style that enables everyone in the organisation to feel empowered and thrive fearlessly as his / her authentic self.
Say ‘Thank you’ to three persons in a day. Look them in the eye and be specific. If someone is not around, send a thank you email or Whatsapp or make a call.

In Learning…… Shakti Ghosal

A recipe to develop humility in Leadership

It was an economic downturn period with the attendant business concerns. In a management strategy meeting, team members were called upon to offer suggestions about how they would wish to ring fence one’s customer accounts, sustain revenues and margins, bring down expenses and so on. I got the sense that the participants were merely sticking to the safety of what we had been doing in the past; no creative suggestions were forthcoming. It seemed to me that in a perceived environment of insecurity, no one was willing to stick his / her neck out. All were hesitating, waiting to do what they would be told.

This set me thinking. Could it be that my seeking suggestions of what each team member plans to do in an adverse situation was being viewed as appraising and judgmental? Could it be that my stance smacked of arrogance, that I was putting others in a spot but was not willing to commit myself?

In a follow-up meeting, I decided to orient the conversation differently. Prior to the meeting, I sent a note to all participants inviting them to come into the meeting with an answer to a simple statement and a question:

You would like to ask me about _______________
What suggestion do you have about what I need to do?

The response was surprisingly overwhelming this time. Everyone chipped in with their frank assessment and the feedback I received were ‘I needed to be more of a team player, needed to be more accountable for team efforts’ and so on. Moreover, one could sense a renewed level of energy and vigour in the team’s declarations.

I thanked all for their frank inputs and avoided giving any explanations.

When later I thought about what had happened, I sensed that it all came down to my practicing humility in the meeting with vulnerability and the willingness to listen and learn. Without knowing it, I had shown up as a ‘Servant Leader’.

In ‘What Is Servant Leadership? A Philosophy for People-First Leadership’, author Sarah K. White, CIO says, ‘Servant leadership is a leadership style that prioritizes the growth, well-being, and empowerment of employees. It aims to foster an inclusive environment that enables everyone in the organization to thrive as their authentic self. it helps create a “psychological ethical climate” that allows employees to be authentic and not fear judgment from leadership for being themselves.’

Humility begins with authenticity. And the pathway to the practice of authenticity begins with ‘being authentic to your own self about your own inauthenticities’. This pathway has no end, it is the journey that we need to enjoy.

If we are not careful, a leadership role has this nasty tendency of making us arrogant. “I am a leader because I am better. I know what is good for the team, so it needs to be my way or highway” is the kind of thought that can sometimes circle inside us. And such thoughts manifest in our conversations and actions.

Arrogance blocks growth, humility drives growth. Humble leaders always strive to develop themselves.

What humble practices might you adopt to develop your team?

In Learning……. Shakti Ghosal

Acknowledgement: ‘What Is Servant Leadership? A Philosophy for People-First Leadership’ by Sarah K. White, SHRM Labs, Feb. 28^th 2022

How to navigate a Control Freak?

In our work life, all of us have come across bosses who are control freaks. These are folks with hardened mindsets about what got them to their positions of power. Under uncertain and ambiguous situations ( and today’s environment is becoming increasingly that), they are most prone to risk-aversion, look for scapegoats or black and white solutions and doubtful decision making.

Before we start forming strong opinions about others, we need to hold the thought we too exhibit ‘control freak’ characteristics at certain times; we are genetically wired with an intrinsic need for control.

In a past assignment, I was reporting to a ‘control freak’ in the corporate office. He lacked domain knowledge relating to our area of business and made up for this lack through demanding total transparency of all operational aspects from our side but with an opaque Blackbox approach from his end. In meetings, he would ask all the questions and then attempt to put one manager against another in a classic divide and rule tactic, to elicit the ‘correct answer’. At times he would deploy the ruse of ‘letting go’ when he would shift to a ‘looking over the shoulder’ kind of control.

What the ‘control freak’ boss ended up achieving was disrespecting and devaluing people, demotivating me and creating stress all round.

The way I managed to handle the situation was to shift from my preoccupation and anxiety about what the boss was saying and thinking to a more inward looking focus. I started thinking about myself, my ‘own battles’ and what I could do in a situation. Every time I felt mistreated, I tried to hold the thought that it was really ‘not about me’; this allowed me to shift from reactiveness and choose a better response. Over time I knew that if I was not careful, my ‘response’ might easily get tainted with bitterness, fear or thoughts of revenge.

In my work life, I was also lucky to have worked with a boss at the other end of the spectrum. He was the ‘hands off’ type but at the same time objective driven. He shied away from taking credit but was always available for discussions and guidance relating to decision making. The team under his watch successfully handled one of the most technically challenging and largest HVAC projects in the country.

So, how might we support others impacted by excessive control in the work place?

Coach how to ‘let go’ when perceiving to have been wronged. Such ‘looking inward’ practise needs dollops of courage, humility and self-compassion.
Listen to frustrations. Acknowledge that it’s awful to feel disrespected by one’s boss.
After listening, turn the conversation to the following: (a)How might you be a better team player as a result of working for a controlling boss? (b)How might you motivate yourself to perform even though your boss is disappointing?

In Musing …….. Shakti Ghosal

The Robber Baron Mansion & the American Way

Vanderbilt Mansion today

Wishing all Readers merry Christmas and a great and purposeful 2024!

1938

President Franklin D. Roosevelt was staying in his favoured Hyde Park home. An early riser, he was standing by the window allowing the early aura to caress him. The low hung clouds, changing hues from the morning sun, glistened shades of orange as they floated by.

The rather modest Springwood estate had been home to President Roosevelt since birth. As he looked out at the estate’s trees and greenery, in his mind’s eye he was grappling with more weightier subjects. Coming at the helm of affairs five years back during the great depression, he had steered this vast land through the New Deal and 3 R’s reforms which he believed had allowed for people to regain faith in themselves, leading to employment rising and recoveries in Agriculture, Industry and Banking. However, once again, the country was facing production and profit declines coupled with rising unemployment. Arrayed with this threat of depression rearing its head, was the larger danger of the ongoing European conflict escalating out of control and engulfing the United States too. Roosevelt’s preferred policy to keep the US neutral was coming under increasing strain with both France and Britain pleading for US involvement against Adolf Hitler and Germany.

With an effort, the President shifted his mind from the above grim thoughts. He loved to look at the trees flourishing all around, now grown from the saplings he had been painstakingly planting for over a quarter of a century. Just a few days back, he had come to know that Mrs. Margaret Van Allen, the owner of the estate in the north, was hobnobbing with land developers to sell off the property. Having witnessed the birth of the Vanderbilt estate in his teens, he had a certain attachment to it.

President Roosevelt asked for his specially designed Ford Phaeton to be brought onto the driveway; he loved driving the car around Hyde Park. Followed by his security in a separate vehicle, he was soon on his way to the Vanderbilt mansion a few miles to the north.

“Mr. President, this is indeed an honour”, gushed Margaret Van Allen. “I just got a call an hour back about your visit, so do pardon any lack of…….”

“Mrs. Allen, it is I who needs to apologise for this unwarranted and sudden intrusion”, President Roosevelt responded with his usual grace. “I will come to the point. I understand you want to sell the estate. Your beautiful home has always held a special place in my heart. It is not only the magnificence of this mansion which I saw built as a teenager, I knew your aunt Louise and uncle Frederick well. They were so passionate and proud of their home. The Vanderbilt estate is the soul of Hyde Park. If it gets divided and sold off in parts, the casualty would not only be Hyde Park but the wonderful collection of trees. I would hate to see that happen….”

The President’s voice seemed to trail off as if coalescing with some deeper thoughts.

“I dream of Hyde Park the way it has been since my childhood. I plan to will my own estate at Springwood in its entirety to the American people. That way it’s past heritage would be preserved for future generations. May I also request you to do the same. That way the entire Hyde Park area would remain preserved”.

Margaret Van Allen felt elated at being asked by the President of the United States to join him in such a noble cause. She promised to consider the proposal seriously.

As President Roosevelt was leaving on the expansive circular driveway, he could not but help admire the beautiful array of trees and plants which Frederick Vanderbilt had so lovingly nurtured over decades.

Present

We could not help but admire the trees and the gardens as we drove on the circular driveway to the car parking area.

We were visiting the Vanderbilt mansion, the national historic site in the Hyde Park area on the banks of the Hudson River. We had heard impressive accounts about the place and were curious to know more. Parking our car, we strolled to the small chalet like building which housed the National Park Service (NPS) office, the mansion was visible at some distance. From the French windows in the rear, one got the first views of the flowing Hudson; the in between park area was a golden abundance of fallen leaves, glistening in the autumn sun.

Hudson river banks in the autumn

How the NPS got into the place is an interesting story. More than eight decades back, Margaret Allen, the niece of Frederick Vanderbilt, moved by President Roosevelt’s vision, decided to handover the estate to the Government. The US Congress approved the acquisition and the expansive park with the mansion was purchased by the NPS against a consideration of one dollar!

The rise of the Vanderbilts forms the basis of the book ‘The First Tycoon: The epic life of Cornelius Vanderbilt’. Author T. J. Stiles provides an engrossing perspective of the American capitalism’s original sinner, the man who inspired the term ‘robber baron’.

Cornelius Vanderbilt, the family founder, was the individual who essentially invented the modern corporation through his purchase and consolidation of New York’s major railroads, and brought the American professional and managerial middle class into being. His influence remains so great as to be almost intangible. As the author writes: ‘He may have left his most lasting mark in the invisible world, by creating an unseen corporate architecture which later generations of Americans would take for granted.’

According to the author, Cornelius Vanderbilt’s greatest coup was buying up New York’s major railroad lines, using every trick in his arsenal, including the manipulation of stock prices. His wealth became enormous. He writes that Vanderbilt ‘exacerbated problems that would never be fully solved: a huge disparity in wealth between rich and poor; the concentration of great power in private hands; the fraud and self-serving deception that thrives in an unregulated environment.’

Cornelius’ grandson Frederick had a personality quite contrary to that of his grandfather’s flamboyance and bluster. Quiet and reserved by nature, Frederick Vanderbilt nevertheless possessed great investment skill to rapidly increase the inheritance he had received. He with his wife Louise purchased the Hyde Park estate and built a palatial country home for themselves which came to be known as the Vanderbilt mansion.

The Vanderbilt mansion was inspired by the Italian renaissance styles. It really showcased Frederick and Louise’s obsession to flaunt their taste of refinement. Money in itself would never give the status of Western Europe’s blue-blooded aristocracy which the couple hankered for; what was needed was to assume the tastes and behaviour. Stepping into the entrance hall of the mansion and looking at the opulence and object d’arts, one gets the sense that the owners wanted to leave an indelible impact in the minds of visitors.

Entrance lobby

Each of the mansion rooms, be it the guest entertainment area, formal dining room, the study and boudoirs, seem to be telling a story of their own. Standing there, one could almost see Frederick retiring with his guests post dinner for a brandy and a fireplace chat.

Guest seating

Dining room

The mansion remained the preferred home of Frederick Vanderbilt and his wife Louise for several decades. It incorporated a number of modern innovations of the day, including plush bathrooms and the couple lived a life of incredible luxury with sixty employees at their beck and call.

Bedroom

Bathroom of early twentieth century

Looking at the extensive kitchen, staff dining areas in the basement with separate stairways and bedrooms, one gets reminded of Downton Abbey and the life of the retinue of servants attached to the British aristocratic Crawley family in the series.

After Louise Vanderbilt’s death in 1926, Frederick lived a largely reclusive life in the mansion till he passed away twelve years later. Prior to his death, he bequeathed the estate to Louise’s niece Margearet Van Allen.

As we left the Vanderbilt estate at the end of our visit, the beauty of the surroundings seemed juxtaposed with visions of the Robber Baron family and the manner in which they contributed to the American way, the disparity in wealth, the aggrandisement of power and the unregulated environment it had spawned.

The American way……

In musing……… Shakti Ghosal

Acknowledgement:

The NPS Guide services @ the Vanderbilt Mansion
‘The First Tycoon: The Epic life of Cornelius Vanderbilt’, by T.J. Stiles, April, 2010. Winner of National Book Award.

Disclosure: The conversations in the first section are fictional constructs based on historical incidents.

What lives between Intention and Impact

In today’s fast changing world, we are almost always confronted by situations about which we lack past experience to engage or resolve. We try to force fit some past learning and end up either failing to get an outcome, or if lucky, achieving part success.

In a past assignment, I was managing a Travel & Destination services management company. One of our major customer accounts was the national petroleum development organisation and because of the large business quantum, we had an implant operation with a dedicated team. Our service and response levels were appreciated by the client.

In line with the commercial norms, as our contract period was coming to an end, the company released a tender for a subsequent period. Believing the client was happy with us, we submitted our competitive offer in line with what we had done during our last successful bid. When the tender was finalised, we were shocked to know that we had lost. When we asked the client company’s commercial team, we were informed that we had not complied with the technical terms of the bid. Going back to the drawing board, so to say, our analysis of the tender document revealed that there had been a small section requiring development and implementation of a Travel management Services (TMS in short) software as part of the client’s intranet, which we had not responded to.

Soon, we had the opportunity to bid against a tender released by the National Gas Company. We noticed that in this tender document too, there was a requirement of implementing a TMS software. This time we were careful enough to comply with the requirement by indicating our willingness to develop. But we again lost the tender! The winner was a competitor who already possessed a fully developed TMS module and had provided a live demonstration of the same to the client.

We had been disrupted. By a new technology, a new competitor, which together had disrupted our traditional business model. The world had shifted, the business need in the environment had changed and the earlier alignment of the latter with the competence set of our company had been lost.

A situation like the above can create a quandary for each one of us. Should we stretch our own competence and experience profile to paper over the gaps that exist because of the changed requirement? This usually is the easy and the quickest option, and thus gets chosen by most leaders and Managers. But the more sustainable and resilient pathway, a much tougher and thus rarely taken option, is to continually equip oneself with the needed competences so that the alignment between us and a world that is shifting, is not lost.

What I have frequently noticed is leadership folks, rather than confronting, resort to whining and complaining. Of how no one could have foreseen what happened, how they had planned and were equipped to handle what did not happen, and so on.

If we are not careful, we can end up in a downward spiral of negativity. I have seen leaders ending as black holes. With a huge gap between their original intention and final impact. This is largely because of a human psychology quirk. The more we talk of something we failed to do, the more important it becomes. As Noble Prize winner Daniel Kahneman said, ‘Nothing in life is as important as you think it is, while you are thinking about it’.

Ways to avoid the Black Hole:

Ask, “What can we do to resolve?” Wait for a positive response. We are conditioned to put effort once we commit.
Envision a future that was not going to happen anyway. Ask, “If things were going flawlessly, what would that look like?”

In Learning…….. Shakti Ghosal

All the things we do not want…..

Have you ever wondered about all the things you do not want, all the things you avoid? These may be at your workplace. Or they may be in your personal life or relationships. Do you realise that all the things you do not want can actually support you to move forward in life?

In the second year of my post graduation, we had to choose elective courses to achieve a minimum number of credits. I remained in my comfort zone by choosing electives which I had the ability to do with minimum effort. I avoided taking on courses in the Computer Science domain (then in its infancy and consequently a ‘black box’ to me) which I figured would require a lot of learning and effort. Was it a mere avoidance mindset or a deeper fear of failure? Most of my batchmates who ‘took the jump’ and majored in Computer Science subsequently did very well in their careers. Fear of failure can help us succeed.

Fear of failure can help us succeed

An aspect we do not want is frustration. Frustration is really our reaction to stuff we do not like or cannot control. The ugly underbelly of frustration is that we tend to vent it on folks who may have nothing to do with it. These folks may be our spouse, family members or colleagues at work place. Frustration shows up as anger, impatience or both. I can recall a particularly difficult meeting with a client about a service failure in which they threatened to cancel our contract. It was a situation outside our control but my reaction had been to call the service team and vent my frustration on them. What I had done was to further spread the cycle of exhausting negativity without finding a solution. The section head though was a guy with a cool temperament; leaving the meeting he did what was needed to be done to retrieve the situation. Frustration can be a good thing if we channel it to move towards solution finding.

Frustration can be a good thing……

We do not want to do ‘heavy lifting’, we succumb to the temptation of doing theoretical stuff. In a previous project assignment, I interacted with two kinds of people. The first set were those who were smart, articulate, detested leaving office and had theoretical solutions for all operational issues. The second set were those who were low profile, operated in the field and were hands-on with the project. I found it comforting to hang out with the first set and opinionate about what was needed to be done or not done; true to the perception I held I avoided going out into the field. However, I soon found that grit, resilience and character developed only when I got down to ‘digging ditches’ in the field to circumvent failures, prevent time over-runs and ensure project completion. Resilience and Character wait on the other side of our disappointment and failure ditch.

Resilience & Character wait on the other side of our failure & disappointment ditch

In the hurry-scurry of our work life, we tend to develop revolving -door relationships. Relationships that we create to achieve quick business objectives and which tend to get jettisoned soon after. Such relationships may seem energizing, even meaningful in the moment, but really build a shallow work life. How many of these questions can you answer in the affirmative?

Do you take genuine care of the people who pull alongside you?
Do you invest time with your team and other stakeholders beyond work related stuff?
Do you serve those who serve you?

The deeper we nurture relationships, the more valuable they become.

The deeper we nurture relationships, the more valuable they become.

In Learning………… Shakti Ghosal

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Leadership and Introspection

A way to grow one’s Leadership is through introspection. One needs to look back into one’s past and identify all that which contributed to one’s Leadership and performance development.

This may sound easy but it is not. As we move through work responsibilities and the corporate hierarchy, we tend to develop our own plethora of ‘what we believe made us succeed’ mechanisms consisting of inauthentic facades, assumptions and ‘need to impress the other guy’ behaviours. We also hone our survival instincts. So, when we do get down to ‘looking into our past’ and identifying all that which contributed to our development and growth, we tend to see stuff distorted by our facades, beliefs and impress the-other-guy behaviours.

The way to grow one’s leadership through introspection is to do the following practices.

Ask yourself, ‘Who were the people who changed you?’

When I thought about this question, I could identify two individuals.

The first was a senior colleague at the start of my career as an Assistant Mechanical Engineer in the Indian Railways. The quality that my colleague brought into our relationship was one of sunny optimism and a natural instinct to mentor without a self-serving mindset.

The second was my boss in Voltas Ltd, where I was handling HVAC projects. The quality that he brought into our relationship was one of down to earth openness and transparency.

I realise today that what allowed me to grow through the above relationships was to try and inculcate a non-self-serving mindset as also authenticity through openness and transparency.

Ask yourself, ‘What kind of people did you gravitate towards?’

When I thought about this question, I could again identify two individuals.

In my tenure in the Indian Railways, I had two workshop foremen report to me. The first was a kind of a ‘yes man’ guy. He made me at once comfortable through his unquestioning loyalty; he would do exactly what I asked him to. This was a great relationship for maintaining status quo about situations and other stuff.

The second was a guy who was a ‘shop floor rebel’. He would usually give a counter viewpoint to most stuff I would suggest, and at times speak uncomfortable truths based on his own past experience and arguments. I would often ‘see’ his approach as unwillingness to accept my authority or trying to prove me wrong. I would feel upset.

This did not seem to be the kind of relationship I would be comfortable with or gravitate towards at that point in time. But I realise today that the person who allowed me to grow was this ‘rebel’ guy as he shattered my comfort zone and forced me to look at uncomfortable possibilities.

So how might you grow your leadership in today’s disruptive world? How might you foster such growth in your team members?

Gain mastery about how to succeed in a business environment that is constantly changing and being disrupted. Do this free module:

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In Learning……… Shakti Ghosal

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The Old Man and the Lake

The reign of the dinosaurs had long ended. Snuffed out by an unlikely asteroid strike. A fifteen kilometers wide piece of Iridium laced rock had struck near present day Mexico, creating a ten times wide crater and unleashing lava, ashes, smoke and gigantic waves around the world.

Though the mass extinction event exterminated most of the flora and fauna on the planet, the continental drift and shifts continued unhampered for millions of years thereafter. The active planetary crust led to the Indian land mass smashing into the Eurasian land plate. The resulting crumpling and buckling at the collision point led to what came to be known as the Himalayas, a veritable abode of the Gods, the tallest mountain range in the world. An awesome creation standing testimony to Earth’s inner energies.

The permanent glaciers and ice formations led to glacial water bodies being formed. This is how the lake came into being. Situated at a height of 18,000 feet within the mighty Himalayan range, the lake acquired a mystical aura for all men and religions who passed by. The waters remained mostly frozen due to the height and the overwhelming presence of the Dongmar glacier which nestled it. Thirsty men and animals could not quench their thirst. And so it came to pass that a Guru was passing by when he too felt the mystical aura of the lake. He put his hand in the lake and Lo and behold! The water stopped freezing and became available for all to quench their thirst. This subduing of the Dongmar glacier’s frozen might by the Guru gave the lake the name of Gurudongmar. The second highest lake in the world with water that no longer froze.

The Man was indeed getting on in years.

As a child, he had been precocious and so had been nicknamed. ‘Buro’, an old man. He was now precisely that, replete with the mindset of the elderly. Over the years, he had acquired a liking for travelling and seeing the world. Age had dimmed the eyes somewhat, but not that inner passion to set forth and discover new places.

When the Man first heard about the wondrous lake of Gurudongmar, his heart urged him to travel. His brain though was more circumspect; it counselled, “My dear chap, are you crazy? You suffer from vertigo. What might happen when you go up all those torturously winding roads?” His friends too cautioned; they related dire tales of folks collapsing from lack of oxygen in a no-Man’s land with medical facilities hard to come by.

“But when a Man makes up his mind, he is not made for defeat. He can lose out, even destroyed, but not defeated.”

The tug of war between thoughts continued. But the die had been cast, the travel plans stood finalised. Came the day of travel and the Man set forth armed with some basic medications, a quiet resolve and some raucous misgivings. A flight, several car rides through mountainous roads into the Himalayan kingdom and the day of reckoning arrived.

“This was not the time to think of what was not there. It was the time to think of what one could do with what was there.”

Six in the morning and after nursing a cup of hot tea, the Man set forth for his rendezvous with the lake.

The slow wafting mist seemed in perfect harmony with the biting chill outside the moving car.

Passing through the last army check post, the vehicle climbed to the Kala Pathar, black stone viewpoint.

The fresh snow from the previous night lay in gay abandon. The white mist drifted upwards, a curtain rising up from the snow flakes and into the low hanging clouds.

As the old man stood watching the shifting views of the Kala Pathar blackness through the whiteness of the entwining gaps in the mist, it seemed like a ballet being performed. Was it the Universe sending him a message of hope?

“Every day is a new day. It is better to think it would be lucky. So when luck does come, one would be ready.”

The climb towards the lake had begun. It was not on roads cut out on the mountainsides which the man had been used to. It was on a rising terrain with no roads or markings to provide a direction. It was all down to the driver and the vehicle, their combined experience and strength to negotiate the path.

And then, all of a sudden, the heavens opened up. Sunbeams splayed and sliced all around. The climb had now reached above the level of the clouds and mist, a surreal moment. The old man nibbled on slivers of ginger; he had been advised so by some friends. A final swerving climb over barren rocks and the vehicle stopped on a mound from where the lake could be seen.

The stillness of the blue waters seemed to beckon. ‘Come, partake of my mysticism.’ The sun shone in all its splendour. Was it trying to discover that mystical aura with all those reflections? At the far end of the waters, part shrouded by rising mists, towered the snow laden glacier. As the old man stood transfixed by the wondrous surroundings, the tug of thoughts took over. Was this the place where divinity was born? What made the pristine barrenness so unworldly? Was it the glacier with its whiteness, or the water with its blueness?

A needle pricked the cheek. Then some more. Shaken out of his stupor, the man looked around. The hitherto gentle breeze had gained in strength. Crested by a whirlwind, tiny pebbles and dust particles chased each other in an ethereal dance. As the needles borne by the wind swayed through the onlookers, a soft murmur of protest could be heard. The old man slowly turned and moved back towards the waiting vehicle.

In Learning…….. Shakti Ghosal

Disclosure: The Old Man in the post is the author himself.

Acknowledgement : ‘The Old Man and the Sea’ by Ernest Hemingway

Police in Blunderland

I was quite taken up with the book title and so decided to give it a read.

The curiosity piqued from two aspects. First, Bibhuti Dash, the author, happens to be a batchmate of mine from my MBA days and I was aware of his ‘tongue in cheek’ ability and how he liked to revel in the comic and the absurd in day to day life. The second was my innate curiosity as to how an easygoing and gentle soul like Dash could have stumbled into and then negotiated the rough and tough demands of a cop’s life. By the time he penned the book, Dash had spent an incredible third of a century donning the police uniform and mindset as part of the elite Indian Police Service cadre.

It was sometimes end of 2009 and I was visiting my Alma Mater, the Indian Institute of Management Bangalore in Bannergatta. The occasion was the twenty fifth anniversary reunion of our batch’s passing out of those hallowed portals. Going down the stairs, I bumped into this slim person coming up. Recognition was instant, “Hey, Dash, you haven’t changed a bit my friend”. I was meeting the guy after twenty-five years!

That was also when I learned about the storied career the guy had had, having spent some years in the corporate sector before qualifying for and joining the police services.

Our paths crossed again when I moved to Kolkata. Over the years, I have come to know and admire the mix of diffidence and humility that characterises Dash.

With Bibhuti Dash @ Belur Math, Kolkata Oct. ’22

In the book’s foreword, Dash mentions that the book evolved out of a “Whatever it is, I’m against it!” blog series that he had been penning over the last couple of years. I daresay that I have been an avid reader of the blog which Dash publishes on Saturdays.

I had particularly liked one of the blogs with the rather evocative title, “ It’s raining guns and bullets”. This three-piece blog held a particular interest for me as it was about the Purulia Arms drop case in which large caches of sophisticated arms, ammunition and explosives had fallen out of the skies into the the sleepy Purulia district villages of West Bengal in the winter of 1995. As I recalled, it had become a sensational front page media incident. Dash had been involved in solving that case and his description of how several events transpired is the stuff crime thrillers are made of. Let me not say much more for fear of becoming a spoiler, except that “It’s raining guns and bullets’ is part of the book.

‘Police in Blunderland ‘contains forty odd ‘real life’ tales from a policeman’s diary with the protagonist being Dash himself in them. What I found refreshing was how the narrations created perspectives of an observer, even though narrated in the first person.

In the words of Bibhuti Das, “Policing in India is considered very opaque, stern and brutal. In the articles, I have tried to say that there is a human side to Policing and not all of it is dry and taciturn, although it has its flaws.”

I would strongly recommend you to get your hands on a copy. It is sure to entertain with its pithy style and its gamut of interesting plots and characters.

Amazon.IN (Paperback) : https://www.amazon.in/dp/9395986654?ref=myi_title_dp

Amazon.com (eBook): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BYF7JB66

Amazon.com (Paperback) : https://www.amazon.com/dp/9395986654

Flipkart : Click on this link

(eBook) Smashwords : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1362404

Happy Reading!

Shakti Ghosal

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