While attending a conference at Washington-DC, Anuj a good friend who lived in Seattle, visited us in State-College, Pennsylvania. This was in January 2001; I was in my first year of MS at The Pennsylvania State University. After an enjoyable weekend with us it was time for Anuj to return to the conference. Not wanting to drive back alone (it took about four hours from State College to DC), he suggested that Atin and I join him. A free ride to the Capital of USA and stay in the luxurious Hilton hotel lured us into the offer. We roped in Vishal our other roommate since we required someone to drive us back to State College. Atin and I had never driven in America until then.
On reaching DC we returned the car Anuj had rented and asked for a one-way rental to State-College. That’s when it began to go wrong. “No one-way rentals”, “Under 25, Sorry”, “No rentals on international-driving-permit,” were the response we got from car rental agencies. In the two hours that we searched, we must have inquired at over 10 rentals. We traveled from one rental to another by bus, metro and at times even requested rental companies to drive us to their competitor. Seeing our plight they obliged. We finally succumbed and gave up our hunt for the night. We decided to rent a car for local sightseeing and leave our worries to the next morning.
After a night ride of the city, we parked the car on the street adjacent to the hotel because we couldn’t afford the hotel parking rate of 20$. Tired and hungry, we sneaked into the hotel room one by one. We thought the hotel would charge us more if they saw four of us together. At about mid-night we called for pizzas to be delivered at the hotel.
The pizza guy arrived at 2:30 a.m.! By then sleep had beat hunger and all except me had gone to sleep. And after returning the pizzas I too went to sleep.
Our plans for the next morning had been already made; we had to move our car from the street by 6 am else it would be towed. We were late by fifteen minutes. “Good morning friends,” a friendly cop greeted us with a 20$ parking ticket in his hand. The adventures for the day had just begun. We bid Anuj good bye and started our tour of the city.
After the city tour we forgot the hardships of the previous night. We found out that we could return to State College by the Greyhound Bus Service. For three people it turned out to be more expensive than a car rental. With no options and the little money we had in our pockets we bought the bus tickets for State College. We needed to get back in time for our teaching assistant-ship assignments the next morning.
We still had to return the local-rental car. As we drove past the busy streets of Washington DC, a huge sign-board greeted us, “Welcome to Virginia”. We had lost our way! We kept searching for an angel who would tell us the way back to DC but never found one. By the time we returned the car and reached the bus station the bus had already left. To our despair, we realized that we were early for the next bus. And that would be there in a little less than 24 hours!
Out of money, gas and sleep we somehow managed to get back to the Hilton for some rest. Sitting in the grand lobby of the Hilton with no hard cash we worried over our options of getting back to State College. We requested a friend from State College to come to DC for pick up. He said he would revert. By then, Anuj returned from the conference and was shocked to see us. He chuckled when we narrated the events of the day to him. He knew the solution to our problem, “I’ll drive you guys back!” he volunteered. He drove us back to State College that night and returned to DC the next morning in time to attend the conference. This time he took the ride back alone.
Eight years have passed but the events of those 24 hours are still etched in my memory. It couldn’t have gone more wrong than it did.
On my way to Ranchi for a business meet, I was inside the Kingfisher Lounge at Mumbai airport, when I spotted a familiar face. The face was far too familiar for me to take my eyes off. It was my favorite super star, Aamir Khan.
As I stared at the approaching super star, I realized that he was getting closer to where I was sitting.
“Is someone sitting over here?” he asked.
“No. You may please sit,” was my quick response.
A center table and approximately four feet of space was what separated me from Aamir. It’s hard to describe the feeling of that moment in words…. It can only be experienced.
Aamir was accompanied by an unknown female colleague. She started talking to him about work. He interrupted her and walked to the cafeteria. After looking at everything that was for the taking, he returned to his seat with four chocolate cookies. He then asked her to continue. And even though I sat staring at my laptop screen, I couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversation.
She asked him if he would like to go to the hotel or directly to the site, once they landed in Jaipur. He said he was fine with anything, adding, “I just need a bathroom to freshen up.” She then switched topics about some tax rebate for the donation he had made to an NGO. It was something that she was unable to sort out, so she asked if he could speak to the concerned person. He said he would.
I decided to ask him for an autograph. I took my business card and turned it over to hand it to Aamir. I spotted a small black mark on it. I quickly pulled out another card. This was spotless. I requested for an autograph. “OK,” he said. I handed over my pen and the card. He signed, stopped, looked at the pen… and signed again. I was happy to have his autograph on the back of my business card. I tucked it back into my wallet and made sure that I did not mix it up with my other cards.
He continued to bite the cookies. ‘Should I ask him for a photograph,’ I wondered. Before thinking too much I said, “Aamir, do you mind a photograph?” He looked at me and nodded affirmatively. ‘Bingo!’
As both of us were seated face-on, I thought I would request Aamir to come and sit besides me (mine was a sofa for two). Before I could say anything, I saw Aamir already up on his toes. I nervously handed over my new Samsung mobile to his colleague and explained to her how to click. I stood besides him, trying to put on my ‘all-time best’ smile. The clicks were silent. She asked me if it was done. I replied “I guess so. Thanks.”
I thanked Aamir, shook hands and sat down to see the photograph. The picture was blurred beyond recognition.“It looks like a ghost of you and me,” I told Aamir as I showed him the photograph. I hoped that he would oblige with one more photograph. He said nothing. I cursed myself. ‘Why did I not get my digital camera out of my laptop case for this one big moment?
’
The Ghost Picture
I pretended to be working again and wished that my phone would ring. I had set a new ring tone just a few days back. It was the song ‘Dil Chahta Hai’. No calls. Luck just seemed to have run out. Meanwhile, a Kingfisher executive came up to Aamir and told him that he could board the flight when he was ready.
A few minutes later I walked out from the lounge even as Aamir sat there. I wanted to share the excitement with my loved ones. I called up Purvi but she did not pick up the phone. As I passed through the security check I still kept thinking about the ghost picture. I settled at the departure terminal and looked at the photograph one more time. I sadly looked on; zoomed, rotated… it still was the ghost picture. I gave up and moved to the next photograph.
“Me and Aamir” the photograph that you see was there. She had clicked two photographs. The ghost picture was God’s teaser.
The wait was finally over. The day had arrived – after a gap of thirteen long years. It was time to live like a monk. The dates 14th – 17th October, 2010 were marked on my calendar for four months. I would be attending a 3-day Vipassana course at Dhamma Pattana, the new center built on the outskirts of Mumbai, famous for the Global Vipassana Pagoda.
Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of India’s most ancient techniques of meditation. The foundation of the practice is s?la — moral conduct. S?la provides a basis for the development of sam?dhi — concentration of mind; and purification of the mind is achieved through paññ? — the wisdom of insight. The technique is taught at 10-day residential courses during which participants follow a prescribed code of discipline, learn the basics of the method, and practice sufficiently to experience its beneficial results. All students attending the course observe “noble silence” — that is, silence of body, speech and mind. The course requires hard, serious work. There are three steps to the training. The first step is, for the period of the course, to abstain from killing, stealing, sexual activity, speaking falsely and intoxicants. This simple code of moral conduct serves to calm the mind, which otherwise would be too agitated to perform the task of self-observation. The next step is to develop mastery over the mind by learning to fix one’s attention on the natural reality of the ever changing flow of breath as it enters and leaves the nostrils. By the fourth day the mind is calmer and more focused, better able to undertake the practice of Vipassana itself: observing sensations throughout the body, understanding their nature, and developing equanimity by learning not to react to them. Finally, on the tenth day participants learn the meditation of loving kindness or goodwill towards all, termed as meta, in which the purity developed during the course is shared with all beings. There are no charges for the courses – not even to cover the cost of food and accommodation. All expenses are met by donations from people who, having completed a course and experienced the benefits of Vipassana, wish to give others the opportunity to benefit from it. There are numerous centres in India and elsewhere in Asia/Pacific: ten in North America; three in Latin America; eight in Europe; seven in Australia/New Zealand; one in the Middle East and one in Africa.
In 1995, I attended my first 10-day Vipassana course at the age of nineteen, followed by two more in 1996 and 1997. I was an engineering student then. Now 34, married, blessed with two kids, and shouldering the responsibility of manufacturing business, the thought of attending a meditation course for 10 days seemed like luxury. In fact, on 14th morning, even three days of being cut-off from the outside world looked impossible. I was able to make it to the course only because of some last minute planning. A special permission allowed me to start the course a few hours after the scheduled time.
A convenient way to get to Dhamma Pattana is to take the fifteen minute boat ride from the Gorai Jetty to Essel World. I arrived at the jetty late in the evening, just in time for the last but one boat ride which would take me to the other side of the Gorai creek. As I walked towards the jetty terminal, I could not take my eyes off the majestic 325 feet tall, illuminated pagoda and its golden reflection in the placid waters.
As I waited for the boat to start, the clock turned back fifteen years. I attended my first three 10-day courses at Dhamma Giri, the first full time Vipassapa center, located about 140 km from Mumbai in the small town of Igatpuri. During the first course I lived in a dormitory shared by 11 others. My cubicle was 8 feet x 6 feet, with walls on 3 sides, a small window and a curtain separating the dorm lobby. At night, I would creep into the mosquito net around the bed. We were advised to apply a mosquito repellent cream before sleeping.
The wake-up time was 4 am. The sound of the morning gong still echoes in my ears. The morning meditation session started at half past four and lasted for two hours. The walk from the dorm to the central meditation hall, known as the Dhamma Hall was about 300 meters. I remember carrying a torch and an umbrella during the walk. After the first session, breakfast was served in a dining hall. The menu was typical Maharashtrian – poha, saboo dana, sheera, with some fresh fruits. Milk and tea were served. After a quick nashta the meditators would rush back to their respective dorms. There was one bathroom and one toilet in each dorm. We had to line up for all the essentials and get over with it fast. One would be lucky if there was hot water in the tap. By 8 am all of the 500 odd meditators on the course would be back in the Dhamma Hall for the one-hour morning group meditation session. Between 9 am and 11 am, we could continue to mediate inside the central hall or in the individual cells allotted to us. The afternoon break was from 11 am to 1 pm. A quick, non-spicy, satvik lunch (the last meal of the day, unless you had a medical reason) was generally followed by a short nap. The afternoon session would continue till 5 pm, and included the second group meditation session from 2:30 pm to 3:30 pm. The evening break was from 5 pm to 6 pm. We were served nimbu paani(lime water). After the last group meditation session that ended at 7 pm, there was a videotaped lecture by the teacher, S.N. Goenka, which provided a context for meditators to understand their experience of the day. The day concluded at 9 pm with specific instructions for next day meditation. By 9:30 pm we were back in the dorm and fast asleep.
In the 10-day course, the meditators would talk to each other for the first time only on the morning of the tenth day. The sharing of experience was an invaluable learning. The other excitement was calling up home and talking to family after nine days of silence. Until my last course in 1997, cell phones were uncommon. At the Dhamma Giri office there were about three PCO’s for the 500 odd meditators who wished to use them at the end of the course. Each minute in the telephone queue seemed like an additional day in silence.
In the thirteen years between my last course and this one, I occasionally practiced Vipassana meditation at home. Each time I did, I felt at peace. It was like cleansing the mind of the unwanted clutter
Until my second course in 1996, I had a voracious and a well known appetite for chicken. So when I chose to eat vegetarian during a family lunch everyone was surprised. I then decided that I shall avoid non-vegetarian food for a month. When that happened, I extended it to three months. It’s been fourteen years since and I continue to give myself extensions.
Back in time, as the boat got closer to the Pagoda, a part of me was still unsure if I could live the same way as I did earlier. But deep within, I was happy to have made it to the course. In the next few minutes, I had my baggage checked; surrendered my cell phone along with the reading and writing material that I always like to carry with me, and arrived to my room.
The three days there after went by very fast. If the 10-day course was like test match cricket, then the three day course was like Twenty-20, except that the schedule for each day was still the same, 4 am to 9 pm. On 17th morning, I felt sad because the course was about to get over. Two days of meditation and silence made me feel lighter from within – more importantly; I was away from the demands of every day life. I would have loved to continue for a few days more.
In the three day course, we broke silence on the morning of the third day. Within no time all the meditators took custody of their cell phones and spread in all possible corners of the centre to talk to friends and family. There was very little interaction amongst the 80 participants on the course. Technology sometimes takes away the ‘little pleasures’ of life.
I was happy to meet up with a few youngsters in their early twenties. Each of them had attended a 10-day course. After all, it is mandatory to complete a 10-day course, before one can register for a 3-day course. For them, I was the senior pro – a meditator for 15 years. Later that day, I was fortunate to meet a noted industrialist who had been attending the course since the last 41 years. It was his 82nd birthday and for him group meditation at the centre was the best way to celebrate.
During my interaction with the young guys, one of them, a MBA student, expressed his displeasure (may be a doubt) about the donation to the Global Vipassana Foundation. He made specific reference to the placards that were displayed at the donation counters, which highlighted the expenses incurred in building and maintaining facilities at the centre, and the estimated cost of the planned expansions. He related the amount of donation to the duration of the course and stay. As others in the discussion reminded him of the definition of donation, “A voluntary gift (as of money, service or ideas) made to some worthwhile cause”, I felt the need to share some information which was probably not known to him.
I narrated to the young brigade the experience of my first three courses, when the meditators lived in the facilities that were available then. In contrast, at Dhamma Pattana during that course, all of the 80 participants lived in a single-occupancy, 10 feet by 10 feet, air-conditioned room with an attached bathroom. There was a separate place to keep the baggage. Each room was well lit and had sliding windows with built-in mosquito nets. You would get a lock and key when you checked into the room. Hot water was available round the clock (the centre is equipped with a solar heating system). Like the rooms, the meditation hall is equipped with split air-conditioners. Soon the individual cells for meditation shall have an air-conditioning system. At lunch, besides Indian food, we were served salads, soups, continental and Chinese preparations followed with a sweet-dish. All of this has been done to ensure that the meditators coming on the course are comfortable during the stay. My young friend realised that this could not have been possible without the contributions made by those who have benefitted from the course in the past.
From the gypsy courses that started in early 1970’s in make-shift tents to the modern day centre at Gorai, Vipassana meditation in India has come a long way. During the 3-day course, I felt that I lived like an executive monk.
The most memorable moment of the four courses came to me towards the end of the second course, immediately after the meta meditation. The feeling was that of abundant joy, within and in everything around. The mind was silent. The body did not seem to exist. Those few moments of truth shall stay with me forever.
Be Happy
For Details on Vipassana please visit the following –
P.S. – Many like me would be accustomed to spending a fairly big amount on one family outing in the weekend; or much bigger amounts when on a weekend trip to the hill-station, or the beach. However, it is unfortunate that life changing experiences like the one mentioned above are valued by some as 3-day and 10-day packages.
Wimbledon final, year 1993, Steffi Graf v/s Jana Novotna. Steffi Graf, one of the greatest women tennis players of all time, was the favourite to win the championship.
At the beginning of the game, very few would have given Jana Novotna an outside chance. But at one set all, with a 1-4 lead, serving at 40-30, Novotna was 5 just points away from winning the Wimbledon. Until that point Graf had won only two of the previous 10 games. An upset was imminent. Graf looked out of sorts. Her opponent’s game on the day was simply too good.
But then, things changed. Serving for a 1-5 lead, Novotna double faulted. At 40-40, she missed a forehand volley. Advantage Graf. The next shot from Novotna went into the net. The score now read as 2-4. Graf served an easy game to make it 3-4. Novotna realised that she had to win the next game. A loss would mean she would have given the mighty Graf an opportunity to come back into the match.
Graf had won the Wimbledon before – she had it in her to win another one. For Novotna, this was her first time. The thought of losing began to creep in. She still had one service game up her sleeve. But she double faulted on the service, not once, not twice, but thrice and let the game slip way. She knew she had surrendered the advantage – the score read 4-4. She became restless, jumping up and down, moving all over the court, visibly agitated with herself. Her body language showed that she had given up.
Novotna lost the next game at love, to make it 5-4, Graf. Now serving to save the match, Novotna choked and Graf added yet another Wimbledon title to her tally. Not because she won, but because Novotna lost. After the match, Graf said, “With the way she was playing and the way I was playing, yes, I’d kind of lost it. I didn’t give up but I didn’t have a very positive feeling”. It’s hard to forget the sight of Novotna at the awards ceremony, resting her head on the shoulders of the Duchess of Kent as she wept and wept and wept. The Duchess, who had met Novotna several times before, said, “Don’t worry Jana. I know you can do it.” It was one of the most emotional award ceremonies in the history of the Wimbledon.
Two years later, French Open, 1995. Third Round. Jana Novotna v/s Chanda Rubin. The favorite this time was Novotna. At one set all, 5-0 lead, she was poised to make it to next round. She didn’t. She couldn’t, and probably because she remembered the Wimbledon loss to Steffi Graf. Deep within, the thought still rankled. She knew she could lose, and she did.
Then again in 1997, Novotna lost the Wimbledon final for the second time. This time her opponent was the 15 year old Martina Hingis.
Think of what happened to Novotna. And now, try to remember the time it happened to you. In private, we’ve all had our share of Novotna experiences – during exams, at an interview or when faced with a new challenge.
It happened to me during a university paper in the fifth semester of chemical engineering. The subject was Heat Transfer. I was relaxed when I browsed the question paper. I started off fairly well – first answering the questions I was confident of. I always liked to answer theory questions first and then the numerical problems. About thirty minutes into the exam, I was deriving a formula for heat transfer through a spherical surface – something which I could have done even if woken up from the middle of sleep. On that day, I faltered. I ended up spending much more time than I could afford on that one question, before finally giving up. It was not long before I realized that I would be struggling to complete the paper in time. The confidence was gone. Suddenly, the paper appeared to be much more difficult. I started to worry about crossing the 40 mark passing.
The thought of not being able to do it or not being good enough has caught us more than once. We console ourselves – “my worst fears have come true”. In reality, we thought that we could fail and we failed.
We often hear the cliché, “be positive, think positive”. It’s always easier said than done. We’re often told how things can change just by thinking positive – we still have to work for it, is what we say to ourselves.
In this article, we shall realise the power of our thoughts. We shall learn to use our thoughts to create a desired state of being, to build self- confidence. Thoughts just don’t matter – they become matter. The way we think affects our body and our life. As Mahatma Gandhi said, “A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes.”
An emerging field of science called psychoneuroimmunology explains the connection between the mind and the body. Our thoughts are responsible for the chemistry of the brain. Whenever we think, we trigger a biochemical reaction in the brain. The brain then releases chemical signals which get passed on to the body. These signals act as the messengers of the thought. Every thought produces a chemical signature that the body recognizes and reacts to. The thoughts that cause the biochemical reaction in the brain make our body feel exactly like the way we were thinking. This in turn determines how we feel. We then react to the feeling, we transmit the same message to the brain. The brain responds to our reaction and generates the thoughts that produce the corresponding chemical messengers. We now begin to think the way we are feeling. Simply put, thinking causes feeling and then feelings create thoughts—an unending cycle. This continuous loop eventually produces a state of mind which determines how we behave and act.
When we think of positive, inspiring thoughts, our brain produces matter that is known as neurotransmitters. These chemicals make us feel uplifted and inspired. Scientists have discovered that the neurotransmitters regulate all our emotions. For example, when we think of an experience that is pleasurable – our first date with the girl next door, the brain instantaneously releases a neurotransmitter called dopamine. The dopamine activates the brain and the body in anticipation of an experience and we become excited. We feel ecstatic. During those moments, we forget everything else, we lose the sense of time; we are in a state of ‘bliss’.
Likewise, when we have self-deprecating thoughts the brain releases chemicals called neuropeptides, to which the body responds in a corresponding way. The moment we think about not being good enough, the brain releases chemicals that produce the same feeling. We are short of self confidence and feel incapable of achieving. This feeling in turns leads to more of the same thoughts. Until this chain of thought is broken, the brain and the body shall generate the same biological feedback loop resulting in a state of mind that reinforces the thoughts of not being good enough.
Over the years, we have learned to think and respond to situations in a certain way. As we continue to have the same thoughts repeatedly, these conscious thoughts turn into unconscious automated thought processes. They are like computer programs running in the background, controlling our lives, creating patterns of behavior that are almost involuntary. These behavioral patterns turn into habits that become neurologically hardwired in the brain. Conscious thoughts and actions, when repeated often, become unconscious thinking and ways of being.
Thoughts matter: they make us what we are. Thoughts become matter in our body – and control our state of being. Most importantly, not all thoughts are conscious. Jana Novotna did not want to think about losing – it was an unconscious thought, the automatic computer program in the background that allowed her to entertain the thought of losing. Her state of being thereafter was controlled by an auto-pilot. She was no longer in control, neither was I after making a small mistake. We both gave in after being in a winning position.
How then do we guard ourselves against the auto-pilot? I believe I may have an answer.
To break this cycle of the unconscious thinking process requires a conscious effort. To do this, we must first consciously identify, through contemplation and self-reflection, the automatic thought programs that run within us. Next, it requires a deliberate effort of observing these thoughts without responding to them. In this way we shall break the chemical responses that are responsible for our habitual behavior, mindset and attitudes. It requires a conscious unlearning of the attitudes and the mindset that we wish to change. Once we have disrupted the automatic programs, we can then re-train our mind the way we want by exercising conscious control over our thoughts
The next time when a negative thought crops up, hold it there. Think of what you’ve just read. Replace the negative thought by a positive one – and now you know why. And if that is difficult to do – then just remember what the 3 Idiots had to say – “Jab life ho out of control – bol – All is Well”.
P.S. – Jana Novotna finally won the Wimbledon in 1998, when she beat Nathalie Tauziat in the final. I scored 45 in Heat Transfer.
“The IPL is not just about cricket. There are a lot of things happening around it. The players must be smart about it. They have to respect the body, give it some time to recover because it’s not just about playing. There have been day-night matches, then parties, and then early morning flights too. All this, including the travel, takes a toll.” That’s what M.S.Dhoni said in justification, after India’s disastrous performance at the T20 World Cup in 2010.
The same captain led the Chennai Super Kings to the IPL T20 win less than three weeks before the ouster of Team India from the World Cup. And going by his theory, whatever happened during the IPL was what caused the World Cup disaster. These words coming from “Captain Cool” are no more than an excuse for failure.
This story is not about Team India’s failure at the T20 World Cup in West Indies. It is about learning to deal with failure, the way the real champions do.
Failure, like death, is inevitable. As J.K.Rowling told the Harvard graduating class, “It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.” Failure comes to all. What’s important is how you decide to deal with it.
John Wooden, the famous basketball coach says, you aren’t a failure until you start to blame. What he means is that you can still be in the process of learning from your mistakes until you begin denying them. That’s where the problems begin. As human beings, we always find excuses for not succeeding. We often lay a blame on someone else or something that was responsible for our failure. And so do some champions. After all they are human beings, too.
The legendary tennis player John McEnroe often tried to repair his self-esteem after losing by assigning blame or making excuses. Going by his own judgment it was never his fault – it was always the outside forces. One time he lost a match because he had fever. Another time he had a backache. Sometimes he was victim of expectations, other times it was because of the tabloids. One loss was because he ate too close to the match. He lost some games because it was cold. He lost others because he could not cope up with the heat. Sometimes he was under-trained, at other times he was over-trained. His most painful loss was to Even Lendl in the 1984 French Open. Why did he lose after leading 2 sets to nil? According to McEnroe, it wasn’t his fault. An NBC cameraman had taken off his headset and a noise started coming from the side of the court.
The problem with McEnroe was that he did not accept his failure. Worse still, he refused to learn from failures. He did not thrive on challenges; when the going got tough, he often folded. As a result, by his own admission he did not fulfill his potential. After his playing days he confessed that his on-court temper tantrums were only a cover for not playing well. Instead of finding the real reasons for losing, he made excuses. Rather than getting the basics right and practicing hard, he relied purely on natural talent. He was the number one player in the world for four years – but he was a champion who did not know how to deal with failure.
On the other hand, Michael Jordan is a great example about success through failure. In a commercial for Nike – famous for its failure-defying tagline “Just Do It” – Jordan says, “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot, and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life – and that is why I succeeded.”
Michael Jordan wasn’t a natural talent. He was cut from the high school varsity team. He worked hard to get back. He left his home at six in the morning to get in some hours of practice before school. Then at the University of North Carolina, he worked on what he thought were his weaknesses – his defensive game, his ball handling and shooting skills. Once, after his team lost the last game of the season, Jordan went back to the court and practiced his shots for hours – he had started his preparations for the next year. He is probably one of the hardest working athletes in the history of sport. Only once did he take it easy. It was the year he returned to the Bulls after his stint in baseball. The Bulls were eliminated in the play-offs. Jordan learned his lesson, “You can’t leave and think you can come back and dominate this game. I will be physically and mentally prepared from now on.” For the next three years, the Chicago Bulls won the NBA title. With Michael Jordan, the Chicago Bulls won six NBA championships. “I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can’t accept not trying,” said Michael Jordan.
Tiger Woods commented in the 2006 Buick interview: “It’s just experience. I’ve put myself in so many different scenarios and have been successful and have failed, and I’ve had to learn from both. Why did I fail? Well, because of this. Why did I succeed? Well, because of this. You have to analyse, you have to be critical, and you have to understand that you have to take hard looks at yourself. Over the years I’ve done that, and I think that’s one of the reasons why I’ve been able to keep progressing through the years. Trust me, it’s not always easy, but my father has always harped on me, always be honest with yourself, true to yourself, look yourself in the mirror and be honest. Some days are tougher than others. When you know you’ve absolutely messed up, you have to admit it and move on and learn and apply. And I’ve done that.”
This is something which the Indian cricket team could make note of. The team didn’t train after either of the first two defeats in the Super-8’s games. “What do we gain in a day’s practice? We thought it would be better to take some time off and turn up fresh for the games,” argued Dhoni. I have a lot of respect for the man who brought us the first T20 World Cup and I wish that rather than blaming the IPL for the World Cup failure he could have analyzed the real reasons for the failure, graciously accepted the mistakes and took some lessons from it.
Sports can be a great teacher. These lessons are not just for the Indian cricket team. They are for all of us. We have to learn to deal with our failures. Failures are not always bad. A failure is a pit-stop on the journey to success. Failure is feedback. Failure shows what doesn’t work. Failure tells us that something needs to be fixed. Failure has a positive power. It teaches us that we learn, we can survive, go on, and discover talents previously hidden. Most importantly – failure humbles. It reminds us that we are not supermen but human beings who will some day fall to ground. Failure is so painful that it almost guarantees that we won’t make the same mistakes again. When we fail, we are at the bottom. We have nothing more to lose. The only place to go is up. The golfer Bobby Jones said, “I never learned anything from a match I won.” He respected defeat and he profited from it.
The only problem is that we as human beings perceive failure as an identity. That’s because, “I failed to…” is perceived as “I am a failure”. As a result, most people fear failure. Failure is not an identity; it is only a judgment about an event. What matters is how we cope with failure. It’s important to be able to forget the pain of failure while retaining the lessons from it.
“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fall,” – Confucius
This note dates back to Oct 1998. I had written this for the monthly bulletin of Gharda Chemicals, where I worked from Oct 1998 to May 2000. The article was rated as the best contribution that month “The Organization and its People”.
The topic seemed to be pretty difficult until the realization that we are talking about you, me and the chap who sits next to our work place. We are talking about the GHARDA FAMILY, the family each one of us belongs to. To know the family we need to know the people, the members of the family, their behavior and their habits. The following is a sincere attempt to list out, based on detailed observations, the different personalities you come across in an organisation.
Let us start on a positive note and talk about the SUPERMAN. He seems to be capable of doing everything. Impossible is a word that does not exist in his dictionary. He always reaches the right place at the right time. People always search for him in times of trouble, for his ability to set things right, to make things happen. There is place for him everywhere. He inspires, he motivates and he reminds you of Sachin Tendulkar because you know there is always hope as long as he is there (batting or bowling). He is the greatest asset to the organization, a treasure.
Our Organization Leaders -Dad & Bharat Uncle
But let me caution you for you will always come across men who talk about their super human abilities. For one, they will give you an impression that nothing will work in their absence. And the other, they keep boasting of their achievements. Remember talkers need not necessarily be doers.
How often have you said “Kaun kehata hai ke Hitler mar gaya?” (Who says Hitler is dead?)
After all you see him every day, right in front of you. Are yaar, tumhare us wale boss ki baat kar raha hoon. (My dear friend, I am referring to your boss) When he talks you better listen or else you’ve had it. He always seems to follow you, especially so when you’re trying to get away from him. You are never spared, not even in your dreams, a hyperbole perhaps, but by now I guess you know what we are talking about. You love to hate him, don’t you?
Don’t ponder too much on Hitler. Now just close your eyes and think of the young chap who just joined the organization. “Why does he ask so many questions? Especially those stupid ones,” is what you often wonder. He certainly does it (I know it because I do it too) for he is always in a hurry to know things. He’s young, enthusiastic (and what not) and you like the way he addresses you as SIR. This fellow is the future of the organization, so please lend him a helping hand.
Then there is the DRONACHARYA. This wonderful teacher never fails to inspire you, for he sees in you his ARJUN, his blue-eyed boy. The generous master gifts you all his knowledge and shares his experience but not without his GURU-DAKSHINA. He expects commitment, sincerity, honesty and dedication, a small fee by any standards. But it often appears that the Dronacharyas and the Arjuns are extinct species. Instead you have people who would always teach you all the wrong things and GOD only knows why.
Though unfortunate, an organization also has its share of the infectious lot. They have a corrupting influence on the organization. They lack enthusiasm, motivation, willingness to work and all this has a very high coefficient of induction. Keep away from them. They can be deadlier than the deadliest of viruses.
Besides the above there are several other people. There is this old guy who has seen it all. He always has a serious look on his face and one never hears him talk (his gray hair does the talking). But all he needs is a slightest of the stimulus and he will narrate to you stories of those who came and those who went and why he was still there (I admire his patience). Then there is the naughty guy and his practical jokes, the quiet fellow and the big talker, the ever smiling bubbly guy, the pretty woman (inspiration to many), the big lady (daily newspaper of the organization) and many more.
The organization needs all of you. After all, VARIETY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE.
This note dates back to Oct 1998. I had written this for the monthly bulletin of Gharda Chemicals, where I worked from Oct 1998 to May 2000. The article was rated as the best contribution that month.
After Gharda Chemicals, I moved on to our business, founded by Dad and Bharat Uncle in 1980.
I wrote this letter to Mom and Dad on their 23rd Wedding Anniversary, in 1999. The preceding six months were stressful and our family went through an emotional period. My grandmother lost her battle with cancer on 14th July 1998. My grandpa passed away on 3rd January, 1999.
Congratulations on your 23rd wedding anniversary. Your marriage is still young, only a year older than me. Two of you have a long way to go, and please don’t forget to take me along.
Today I have decided not to stop myself and my emotions and wish to speak my mind freely. I wish to speak from my heart, something which I have not always done.
Thank you for all that you have given me over the past 22 years: your love, affection and everything else. You have always stood by me, in good and bad times. Your advice has always been most valuable, your encouragement has been an inspiration, and your values have been the guiding principles of my life. You have taught me how to respect elders and love younger ones. Observing the two of you in last six months, I have learned a lot about what elders mean to the children and this made me realise how important the two of you are in my life. I love you.
I have been rude at times but you have always forgiven me. I may have disobeyed but you have forgotten. I have made mistakes and you have always corrected me. I am lucky to have parents like you.
Today I have started earning and I am sure you must be proud of it. I have only to thank you and all our family members for the position I am in. I am presenting a small gift from my earned income but it means a lot to me. No gift can and will ever compensate all that I have received from you over the years but still I would feel good when I see a smile on your face. Thank you.
World, take my child by the hand – he starts school today!
Maahir’s First Day to Ryan International School, 18th June, 2009
It is all going to be strange and new to him for a while and I wish you would sort-of treat him gently. You see, up to now, he has been king of the roost. He has been the boss of the backyard. I’ve always been around to repair his wounds and I’ve always been handy to soothe his feelings.
But now things are going to be different. This morning he is going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand, and start on a great adventure that probably will include wars and tragedy and sorrow.
To live in this world will require faith and love and courage.
So world, I wish you would sort-of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know. Teach him, but gently if you can.
He will have to learn, I know that all people are not just, that all man and women are not true.
Teach him that for every scoundrel, there is a hero; that for every enemy, there is a friend. Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest people to lick.
Teach him the wonder of books.
Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill.
Teach him that it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat.
Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells he is wrong.
Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone else is getting on the bandwagon.
Teach him to listen to others, but to filter all he hears on a screen of truth and to take only the good that comes through.
Teach him never to put a price tag on his heart and soul.
Teach him to close his ears on the howling mob – and to stand and fight if he thinks he is right.
Teach him gently, World, but do not coddle him because only the test of fire makes fine steel.
This is a big order, World, but see what you can do. He is such a nice son.
“How Much is Enough?” the thought first occurred when Purvi and I were enjoying the sunset over the Powai lake. It was amongst one of the memorable evenings that we’ve spent in the seventeen years that we have known each other. The lake is less than 20 minutes from where we stay. Yet, in the many years, we never experienced the solitude and the bliss, which we did that evening.
“How Much is Enough?” the thought first occurred when Purvi and I were enjoying the sunset over the Powai lake. It was amongst one of the memorable evenings that we’ve spent in the seventeen years that we have known each other. The lake is less than 20 minutes from where we stay. Yet, in the many years, we never experienced the solitude and the bliss, which we did that evening. There was a sense of regret, even more when I realised that I couldn’t commit as to when next we would experience a similar evening. We are too busy – long working hours, an ever overflowing inbox, and unending work commitments; striving to maximize work done in the time available. It’s a story not too uncommon – something that most of us can relate to. But for once, the still waters of the lake, the mountain in the back drop and the splendor of the orange sunset, quieted the mind – as we asked each other the question, “How Much is Enough?”
Work is worship. Being ambitious, setting goals and working hard to achieve the goals is imperative. It provides a sense of direction and purpose to our professional life. It is only through work that we earn money, an essential and irreplaceable commodity.
The question here is about how much money is enough? For some, this question may not seem to be relevant at all, as they struggle to meet their everyday needs. I wondered if dad would have asked himself this question when he was of my age. Probably not, he could not afford to then. We’ve been better off; because in our upbringing, we were never deprived of the basic needs. Our children are more fortunate. It is no longer about the needs, it is about the wants.
The reality lies in the fact that a generation committed to saving has been replaced by one devoted to spending. Our basic needs now stretch beyond ‘roti, kapda aur makaan’ (food, clothing and shelter). Our wants have unending bounds – a splendid five bedroom apartment in South Bombay (SoBo) high rise overlooking the Arabian Sea, a BMW 740i, traveling club class …..and so on. We seem to have forgotten that there is a beautiful world out there, beyond what money can buy.
I decided to pursue the answer by discussing the subject with friends, family, teachers and business associates. Some of them answered in numbers, some in words, and some others had not consciously thought about the question. For some, it wasn’t just about how much was enough for them, it was also about what their children would inherit. A friend asked me to watch the movie, ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’. It wasn’t long before I realized that there is no (universal) answer to the question. The quest however brought to light some invaluable insights, I wish to share.
Parag, a dear friend (he designed the cover page for ‘My Notes’), a few years elder to me, has identified ‘milestones’ when he would need money. Like, when purchasing a new apartment, and then when children (Disha- 9 years and Rishi – 7 years) would want to pursue higher education, and then at the time of children’s wedding. More importantly, he realizes that he would have enough time to get to the milestones as they are well separated – there is no need for ‘rat-race’. He doesn’t hesitate to skip office or work from home when his mother, who lives just a few minutes away, comes to see them, or when children want to play with mom and dad. “If Disha and Rishi tell me that they want to play a game of monopoly with me and Nikita, I don’t refuse, until and unless I have something very important to do. I don’t think they would ask me this question a few years later when they would be on their own. Neither do I want to regret not having spent enough time with my parents, and learning from their experiences. These moments in life shall never return,” he explained.
A business owner and a close associate, who is almost dad’s age, felt that he has much more than what he deserves. For the first twenty years of his professional career he worked with a private firm. “If I was still working with them, I would be drawing a salary of about a lakh (hundred thousand) per month, and that would have been more than enough for my lifestyle. Success in business has bought me two apartments; I own a Skoda-Laura and a Toyota-Innova. I couldn’t have asked for more. I continue to work, because I want to support my employees and my vendors, who also depend on this business. Our company bears all the education expenses for our employees’ children. Our employees enjoy medical benefits.” He was not sure if his son, who just started college, would like to take the business forward. “It is for him to decide,” he remarked.
Another son, elsewhere, preferred to inherit cash. His father, a respected professor, worked hard all his life and made a fortune in the coaching classes business. He owned and operated about ten branches in Mumbai with 2500 students a year, at the higher secondary level. The son couldn’t (or may be didn’t want to?) manage the operations (he wasn’t qualified enough to teach.). Unwillingly, and possibly because of parental responsibilities (obligations?) the father sold his stake in business to his other partner, insisting on receiving all the money cash-down. He handed over everything to his son, so as not to be blamed later. He was told that it wasn’t enough. The teacher taught two generations, but couldn’t educate his own child.
I recall another discussion, with one of my favourite teacher of schooldays (also an owner of a coaching class). He narrated his story and taught me an invaluable and unforgettable lesson, “Jayesh, I came to Bombay with virtually nothing. I was teaching in a coaching class and stayed with my maternal uncle in his one-room chawl (a poor man’s studio apartment in Bombay). I had a dream then, that one day I will own a one-room chawl. I worked hard for it.” After a long pause (a sense of nostalgia) he continued, “This four bedroom apartment that you are now sitting in, the classes and all that I can afford to buy is a by-product of the hard-work. Money is only a by-product of good work.” My teacher reminded me of Lord Krishna’s sermon to Arjuna, on nishkama karma (performing one’s duty for its own sake without thinking about ‘what’s in it for me’), “Be intent on the action, not on the fruits of action”.
Some people said that they worked hard all their life, but never got what they deserved. “Life has not been fair to me,” they complained. I am not sure if someone had guaranteed us a fair life.
My best friend worked hard and realized his father’s dream of building a world class cold storage facility. Their tagline, “We preserve your trust,” is a testimony of the many years of toil and commitment to good work. Many envied my friend and his work – it was all well, until the day when the cold storage went up in flames. All that was built was gone in a moment, the years of goodwill was lost. “What is lost is lost. God has endowed us with two hands to work and intelligence to think – and that is enough to achieve our goals”, his determination only strengthened after the accident. He had learned the secret to earning enough.
While reading the book ‘India Unbound’, by Gurcharan Das, I found myself relating to the author who at the age of fifty decided to give up the largesse of corporate life. He took an early retirement and relinquished a plum position in a multinational company to pursuit his interest for writing. He was partly guided by the Vedic philosophy which has defined four stages of human life. Brahmacharya, the first stage, is the life of a student or a celibate. Grihasta, the second stage is the life of the householder. The Grihasta earns his livelihood by whatever a vocation befitting his being a member of his group, raising children, supporting his own family, kith and kin besides the persons performing their duties in the other three Ashramas (stages). Vanaprasta, the third stage, indicates the departure from material possessions. The man no longer takes part in the commercial activities and the woman leaves the running of the household to her daughter-in-law. People in this ashram play the role of mentors. The final stage is Sanyasa or renunciation; the person leaves society to spend the remaining part of his or her life in meditation and the contemplation of God in solitude.
The (unfortunate) reality of modern day life is that no one is able to (or wants to?) move out of the Grihastaashram. I talked to some who have retired from service; they said that they wanted to continue to work so as to keep themselves busy. Likewise, there are doctors, lawyers and businessmen who continue to work throughout life. “I would prefer to die with my boots on,” said an uncle in his early seventies, “it’s not about money, it’s about keeping the mind occupied.” They are happy to do the same work, which they did all their life (because that’s what they know best). They moved into the twilight years of life, satisfied (occupied?) with their families and work. “But now when the time has come for them to slow down, they find that they have missed the boat and don’t have a ‘third thing’ to fall back upon,” writes Bhavin Jhankaria in his thoughtful article titled “What is Your ‘Third Thing’?” Our ‘third thing’ is our talent, our passion for something other than work. More often than not, the third thing is compromised in the (so called) ‘interest of work’ and postponed to some time later. We never realize when it is lost.
A family member advised me to read the anecdote, ‘How Much Land Does a Man Need’, by Leo Tolstoy. The answer is known to all, but the extraordinary thing is that few are willing to accept it, “Six feet from the head to the heels is all that is needed”.
How much is enough? Purvi and I are searching for the answers hidden in these stories. Our needs are limited and so is life.
Just as the dawn of the New Year seems special, even though it is the same as any other day; waking up each morning with a sense of starting afresh and greeting every day as a new beginning will make it special. Happy New You.
“The IPL is not just about cricket. There are a lot of things happening around it. The players must be smart about it. They have to respect the body, give it some time to recover because it’s not just about playing. There have been day-night matches, then parties, and then early morning flights too. All this, including the travel, takes a toll.” That’s what M.S.Dhoni said in justification, after India’s disastrous performance at the T20 World Cup in 2010.
