Defining Success: Lessons From Life

This is the address by Subroto Bagchi, COO, MindTree to the Class of 2006 at the Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore on "Defining Success". July 2nd 2004. I was the last child of a small-time government servant, in a family of five brothers. My earliest memory of my father is as that of a District Employment Officer in Koraput, Orissa. It was and remains as back of beyond as you can imagine. There was no electricity; no primary school nearby and water did not flow out of a tap. As a result, I did not go to school until the age of eight; I was home-schooled. My father used to get transferred every year. The family belongings fit into the back of a jeep - so the family moved from place to place and, without any trouble, my Mother would set up an establishment and get us going. Raised by a widow who had come as a refugee from the then East Bengal, she was a matriculate when she married my Father. My parents set the foundation of my life and the value system which makes me what I am today and largely defines what success means to me today. As District Employment Officer, my father was given a jeep by the government. There was no garage in the Office, so the jeep was parked in our house. My father refused to use it to commute to the office. He told us that the jeep is an expensive resource given by the government - he reiterated to us that it was not 'his jeep' but the government's jeep.Insisting that he would use it only to tour the interiors, he would walk to his office on normal days. He also made sure that we never sat in the government jeep - we could sit in it only when it was stationary. 'That was our early childhood lesson in governance - a lesson that corporate managers learn the hard way, some never do.' The driver of the jeep was treated with respect due to any other member of my father's office. As small children, we were taught not to call him by his name. We had to use the suffix 'dada' whenever we were to refer to him in public or private. When I grew up to own a car and a driver by the name of Raju was appointed - I repeated the lesson to my two small daughters. They have, as a result, grown up to call Raju, 'Raju Uncle' - very different from many of their friends who refer to their family drivers as 'my driver'. When I hear that term from a school- or college-going person, I cringe. To me, the lesson was significant - you treat small people with more respect than how you treat big people. 'It is more important to respect your subordinates than your superiors.' Our day used to start with the family huddling around my Mother's chulha - an earthen fire place she would build at each place of posting where she would cook for the family. There was no gas, nor electrical stoves. The morning routine started with tea. As the brew was served, Father would ask us to read aloud the editorial page of The Statesman's 'muffosil' edition - delivered one day late. We did not understand much of what we were reading. But the ritual was meant for us to know that the world was larger than Koraput district and the English I speak today, despite having studied in an Oriya medium school, has to do with that routine. After reading the newspaper aloud, we were told to fold it neatly. Father taught us a simple lesson. He used to say, "You should leave your newspaper and your toilet, the way you expect to find it". That lesson was about showing consideration to others. Business begins and ends with that simple precept. Government houses seldom came with fences. Mother and I collected twigs and built a small fence. After lunch, my Mother would never sleep. She would take her kitchen utensils and with those she and I would dig the rocky, white ant infested surrounding. We planted flowering bushes. The white ants destroyed them. My mother brought ash from her chulha and mixed it in the earth and we planted the seedlings all over again. This time, they bloomed. At that time, my father's transfer order came. A few neighbors told my mother why she was taking so much pain to beautify a government house, why she was planting seeds that would only benefit the next occupant. My mother replied that it did not matter to her that she would not see the flowers in full bloom. She said, "I have to create a bloom in a desert and whenever I am given a new place, I must leave it more beautiful than what I had inherited". That was my first lesson in success. 'It is not about what you create for yourself, it is what you leave behind that defines success.' Meanwhile, the war raged and India was fighting on both fronts. Lal Bahadur Shastri, the then Prime Minster, coined the term ai Jawan, Jai Kishan" and galvanized the nation in to patriotic fervor. Other than reading out the newspaper to my mother, I had no clue about how I could be part of the action. So, after reading her the newspaper, every day I would land up near the University's water tank, which served the community. I would spend hours under it, imagining that there could be spies who would come to poison the water and I had to watch for them. I would daydream about catching one and how the next day, I would be featured in the newspaper. Unfortunately for me, the spies at war ignored the sleepy town of Bhubaneswar and I never got a chance to catch one in action. Yet, that act unlocked my imagination. 'Imagination is everything. If we can imagine a future, we can create it, if we can create that future, others will live in it. That is the essence of success.' Over the many intervening years, I grew up, studied, joined the industry and began to carve my life's own journey. I began my life as a clerk in a government office, went on to become a Management Trainee with the DCM group and eventually found my life's calling with the IT industry when fourth generation computers came to India in 1981. Life took me places - I worked with outstanding people, challenging assignments and traveled all over the world. In 1992, while I was posted in the US, I learnt that my father, living a retired life with my eldest brother, had suffered a third degree burn injury and was admitted in the Safdarjung Hospital in Delhi. I flew back to attend to him - he remained for a few days in critical stage, bandaged from neck to toe. The Safderjung Hospital is a cockroach infested, dirty, inhuman place. The overworked, under-resourced sisters in the burn ward are both victims and perpetrators of dehumanized life at its worst. One morning, while attending to my father, I realized that the blood bottle was empty and fearing that air would go into his vein, I asked the attending nurse to change it. She bluntly told me to do it myself.In that horrible theater of death, I was in pain and frustration and anger. Finally when she relented and came, my father opened his eyes and murmured to her, "Why have you not gone home yet?" Here was a man on his deathbed but more concerned about the overworked nurse than his own state. I was stunned at his stoic self. My father died the next day. 'There I learnt that there is no limit to how concerned you can be for another human being and what is the limit of inclusion you can create.' My father was a fervent believer in the British Raj. He sincerely doubted the capability of the post- independence Indian political parties to govern the country. To him, the lowering of the Union Jack was a sad event. My Mother was the exact opposite. When Subhash Bose quit the Indian National Congress and came to Dacca, my mother, then a schoolgirl, garlanded him. She learnt to spin khadi and joined an underground movement that trained her in using daggers and swords. Consequently, our household saw diversity in the political outlook of the two. On major issues concerning the world, the Old Man and the Old Lady had differing opinions. 'We learnt the power of disagreements, of dialogue and the essence of living with diversity in thinking.' Success is not about the ability to create a definitive dogmatic end state; it is about the unfolding of thought processes, of dialogue and continuum.

Cab Driver's Wisdom - Good Example of Customer Satisfaction

No one can make you serve customers well. That's because great service is a choice.

Harvey Mackay, tells a wonderful story about a cab driver that proved this point.

He was waiting in line for a ride at the airport. When a cab pulled up, the first thing Harvey noticed was that the taxi was polished to a bright shine. Smartly dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and freshly pressed black slacks, the cab driver jumped out and rounded the car to open the back passenger door for Harvey.

He handed my friend a laminated card and said: 'I'm Wally, your driver. While I'm loading your bags in the trunk I'd like you to read my mission statement.

Taken aback, Harvey read the card. It said: Wally's Mission Statement:

To get my customers to their destination in the quickest, safest and cheapest way possible in a friendly environment.

This blew Harvey away. Especially when he noticed that the inside of the cab matched the outside. Spotlessly clean! As he slid behind the wheel, Wally said,

'Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a thermos of regular and one of decaf.'

My friend said jokingly, 'No, I'd prefer a soft drink.'

Wally smiled and said, 'No problem. I have a cooler up front with regular and Diet Coke, water and orange juice.'

Almost stuttering, Harvey said, 'I'll take a Diet Coke.'

Handing him his drink, Wally said, 'If you'd like something to read, I have The Wall Street Journal, Time, Sports Illustrated and USA Today.'

As they were pulling away, Wally handed my friend another laminated card, 'These are the stations I get and the music they play, if you'd like to listen to the radio.'

And as if that weren't enough, Wally told Harvey that he had the air conditioning on and asked if the temperature was comfortable for him.

Then he advised Harvey of the best route to his destination for that time of day. He also let him know that he'd be happy to chat and tell him about some of the sights or, if Harvey preferred, to leave him with his own thoughts.

'Tell me, Wally,' my amazed friend asked the driver, 'have you always served customers like this?'

Wally smiled into the rear view mirror. 'No, not always. In fact, it's only been in the last two years. My first five years driving, I spent most of my time complaining like all the rest of the cabbies do. Then I heard the personal growth guru, Wayne Dyer , on the radio one day. He had just written a book called You'll See It When You Believe It Dyer said that if you get up in the morning expecting to have a bad day, you'll rarely disappoint yourself.

He said, 'Stop complaining! Differentiate yourself from your competition. Don't be a duck. Be an eagle. Ducks quack and complain. Eagles soar above the crowd.''

'That hit me right between the eyes,' said Wally. 'Dyer was really talking about me. I was always quacking and complaining, so I decided to change my attitude and become an eagle. I looked around at the other cabs and their drivers. The cabs were dirty, the drivers were unfriendly, and the customers were unhappy. So I decided to make some changes. I put in a few at a time. When my customers responded well, I did more.'

'I take it that has paid off for you,' Harvey said.

'It sure has,' Wally replied. 'My first year as an eagle, I doubled my income from the previous year. This year I'll probably quadruple it. You were lucky to get me today. I don't sit at cabstands anymore. My customers call me for appointments on my cell phone or leave a message on my answering machine. If I can't pick them up myself, I get a reliable cabbie friend to do it and I take a piece of the action.'

Wally was phenomenal. He was running a limo service out of a Yellow Cab.

I've probably told that story to more than fifty cab drivers over the years, and only two took the idea and ran with it. Whenever I go to their cities, I give them a call. The rest of the drivers quacked like ducks and told me all the reasons they couldn't do any of what I was suggesting.

Wally the Cab Driver made a different choice. He decided to stop quacking like ducks and start soaring like eagles. How about us?

Stealing a Bell with One's Ears Plugged

Stealing a Bell with One's Ears Plugged

During the last days of State of Fan (Chu Dynasty), there was a thief who came upon a bell. He wanted to steal it, but it was too heavy to carry away. So he decided to break the bell into pieces. When he hit the bell with the hammer, the bell rang loudly.

Not wanting others to hear the noises, he covered up his ears.

By logic, not wanting others to hear the noises is understandable.

To accomplish this by covering one's own ears, so one cannot hear himself, is absurd

Is the Sun farther away in the morning?

An Argument about the Sun

When Confucius was traveling in the eastern part of the country, he came upon two children hot in argument, so he asked them to tell him what it was all about.

"I think," said one child, "that the sun is near to us at daybreak and far away from us at noon."

The other contended that the sun was far away at dawn and nearby at midday.

"When the sun first appears," said one child, "it is as big as the canopy of a carriage, but at noon it is only the size of a plate or a bowl. Well, isn't it true that objects far away seem smaller while those nearby seem bigger?"

"When the sun comes out," pointed out the other, "it is very cool, but at midday it is as hot as putting your hand in boiling water. Well, isn't it true that what is nearer to us is hotter and what is farther off is cooler?"

Confucius was unable to settle the matter for them.

The two children laughed at him, "Who says you are a learned man?"

Impenetrable Shield and All-piercing Spear

An armorer of London boldly claims to make the best spears and shields.

"My shields are so strong; they cannot be penetrated by any weapon," he said.
"My spears are so sharp; they can pierce any shield," he further said.

A man asks, "If your spear is thrown at your shield, what then?"
The armorer had no reply.

By logic, both an impenetrable shield and an all-piercing spear can not exist at the same time.

Moral of the story: Careful about the logic in any story.

Blind Man and the Sun

Once upon a time, there was a blind man who does not know what the Sun is. So he asks other people to explain.

One man said, "The Sun is shaped like a copper plate." So the blind man banged on a copper plate, and listened to its clanging sound.
Later when he heard the sound of a temple bell, he thought that must be the Sun.

Another man said,"The Sun gives out light just like a candle." So the blind man hold a candle to feel its shape.
Later when he picked up a flute, he thought that this must be the Sun.

Yet we know that he Sun is vastly different from a bell or a flute; but a blind man does not understand the differences, because he has never seen the Sun and only heard it described.

Just like that matters introduced by others and seen and felt by oneself is different.

Whom to blame...

Boy was born to a couple after eleven years of marriage.

They were a Loving couple and the boy was the gem of their eyes.

When the boy was Around two years old, one morning the husband saw a medicine bottle Open.

He was late for office so he asked his wife to cap the bottle and keep It in the cupboard. His wife, preoccupied in the kitchen totally forgot The matter.

The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle fascinated by Its colour and drank it all.

It happened to be a poisonous medicine Meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed the mother Hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She Was terrified how to face her husband.

When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child ,

He looked at his wife and uttered just five words.


QUESTIONS:

1. What were the five words?

2. What is the implication of this story?


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ANSWER :



The husband just said "I am with you Darling"

The husband's totally unexpected reaction is a proactive behaviour.

The Child is dead. He can never be brought back to life.

There is no point In finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he had taken time to Keep the bottle away, this would not have happened.

No one is to be blamed. She had also lost her only child. What she Needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.

If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would Be much fewer problems in the world. "A journey of a thousand miles Begins with a single step." Take off all your envies, jealousies, Unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears. And you will find things are Actually not as difficult as you think.

MORAL OF THE STORY

Sometimes we spend time in asking who is responsible or whom to blame, Whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. By this Way we miss out some warmth in human relationship.