Once a Thermaxite Always a Thermaxite

Trips to Pune always make me nostalgic as I have spent most of my formative years in the city before relocating to Chennai post marriage. Boarding the flight from Chennai to Pune, I looked forward to this one being even more special as I was going to meet my mentor, all-time favourite leader and the
most inspiring woman I have ever known – Anu Aga.

Waiting at the reception of the new Thermax House, I was engulfed by a gush of memories of my association with the company as an HR business partner in the mid-‘90s, under the leadership of Anu. After that, I have been associated with several mid to large sized organisations, but my learnings at Thermax have always been my guiding light.

It was during my tenure that we went through the crisis of Mr. Aga’s sudden demise. Not letting her grief come in the way of the organisation, Anu did her best to motivate employees and not let gloom prevail among them. During the condolence meeting, she said, “The biggest responsibility from here on is in your hands and not mine because Mr. Aga trusted you all more with the company than his family.”

I admired the way Anu dealt with the HR function despite not having a formal degree in the domain; her ability to take risks and question businesses. Even back then, HR was integral to business planning, which organisations even today struggle to achieve. Being a small team that time, we often had open discussions where we shared our concerns and suggestions with Anu which were unbiasedly evaluated by her and then translated into action if need be. To name a few, she was a proponent of meritocracy and introduced a performance driven culture. She brought in the HR matrix model as a review mechanism, continually gauging the market pulse and industry benchmarks through compensation surveys and HR audits. The beauty of the processes resided in blending external expertise from consulting firms with comprehensive feedback from her team, right from field inputs to leadership views. In an era when computers were entering workplaces, we were ahead of our times in most of the people systems. Soon Thermax became a role model for HR heads of many reputed companies who often visited us to learn from our best practices.

The focus on driving processes was always balanced with the human aspect of our team. Once when paying a visit to a senior colleague admitted in the hospital, Anu mentioned to me, “The responsibility of a manager goes beyond approving medical reimbursement to standing by the team in times of need.”

Above all was a culture of transparency, where an employee could escalate a grievance or request directly to Anu. To cite an incident, we had a female Graduate Engineer Trainee from one of the top engineering institutes working on the shop floor who wanted to experience some processes which took place only during night shifts, where women were not allowed due to safety reasons in those days. When she expressed her desire and passion for learning, Anu made exceptions for her to work in night shifts while taking care of her safety needs.

One should experience Thermax and then other organisations to know the difference. The leaders practised an open-door policy and worked like entrepreneurs with a sense of ownership for their businesses. They encouraged young managers to pursue diverse avenues across functions, take on broader responsibilities and eventually head divisions. The emphasis on business & growth blended with a host of employee engagement initiatives. Some of my memorable events include the townhalls with the management, where the leaders remembered and called every employee by their names when asked questions. I can never forget the non-conventional training programmes such as ‘Walk on Fire’, ‘Quality of Life’ for employees and storytelling skills for managers. Thermax ladies club, Dandiya night, Fireside magazine, site engineers meet and many such platforms made work enjoyable, inculcated a practice of caring and sharing amongst us.

A sense of the culture was infused right from the time an employee joined the company through comprehensive induction programmes jointly designed by HR and businesses that reassured the employee’s decision of coming onboard concerning its culture, career prospects and learning opportunities.

All in all, the life of every Thermaxite was holistic. It comprised work, learning, fun, communication and plenty of opportunities. It was business as usual (or unusual), inclusion and diversity at its best. High performance, going the extra mile, creating success stories, learning from failures and a large community with a place under the sky for each one – all packed under the mighty ‘T’.

I was brought back from my memory lane when I heard my name being called out and was led to Anu’s office. Pristine, warm and respectful as always, just seeing her made all my senses come alive. A heartfelt and genuine conversation, plenty of memories, a whole-hearted hug and gratitude towards life is what I experienced in that brief hour with her.

It is delighting to see that even after two decades, the company continues to uphold the same ethos and quality standards in every aspect. My experience of Meher is nothing less than what her parents embodied in the organisation. Meher and her leadership team have the same zest, people focus, humility yet aggression and extremely sharp business acumen that formed the edifice of Thermax.

As I left Anu’s office with a heart full of appreciation, I told her, ‘Once a Thermaxite, always a Thermaxite’. I held on to my visitor’s identity badge with pride.

– Rujuta Rammohan
Ex-Thermaxian

Mount Stok Kangri : Stepping up to lasting impressions!

Expeditions are journeys with a purpose and arguably the most exhilarating experience a person can have!

Since 2012-2013, I had the desire to hike up the peak of Mount Stok Kangri, located in Leh & Ladakh and towering at an altitude of 20,181 feet above the main sea level. The thought first occurred to me, while I was hiking in the Sahyadris and wanted to test my threshold by attempting to climb a
high Himalayan snow-clad peak.

Apart from the Sahyadris, I had successfully summited Mount Rudugaira, 5,819 metres above the sea level in 2013 and Mount Gangotri-1, 6,672 metres above the sea level in 2014. In the year 2015, I went on a biking expedition to Leh Ladakh with my friends. Leh is nestled between deep valleys, surrounded by high passes and snow-clad mountains. Mesmerised by the beauty of this valley, I was sure that this would be my next trek.

As we walked, right there in front of us was a daunting high peak, covered in snow, standing tall and enticing me. “This is it guys,” I told my friends. My friend Atul and I chalked out a plan for an alpine style attempt (which refers to a trek without the help of any guides or porters) to Mount Stok Kangri.

We came home and started the groundwork for the journey. We traced maps, planned the route, logistics and then started our preparation for the climb with rigorous training in the form of daily exercises, pranayama, yoga and not to forget, the several practice treks to the Sahyadris carrying heavy load in our backpacks to build our stamina and strength.

After nearly six months of preparation, we were ready to take on the challenge. We left from Pune on the 8th of September, 2017 and landed in Leh the next day. It was a feeling of coming back home! A cosy little Ladakhi hotel with a fabulous view was awaiting us. We spent the rest of the day roaming in and around the local markets of Leh and buying some gear required for the trek.

The same evening, we went up to the Leh Palace. The view from there was priceless. The rays of sunset on the snow peaks made the mountains appear gold plated; further enhanced by the fusion of colours in the sky and the surrounding landscape.

On the morning of 10th September, we left our guest house for an acclimatisation trek. We drove up to South Pullu with the intent to hike 14 km uphill to Khardung La Pass, in order to attune our bodies to that altitude. Owing to the on-going Ladakh marathon, we had to alter our plan and instead decided to attempt a small three-hour hike up to the Tsemo Gompa Monastery. We were now confident of the giant climb.

The same evening we bought all the remaining climbing gear, ready-toeat food packs, obtained necessary permits, packed our backpacks and were all set. We planned to start the trek early next morning to have a glimpse of the sunrise.

Next morning we reached the base point of the trek, Stok village. We sipped hot tea, had Maggi for breakfast and started our climb to the higher camp – Manokarma. Our backpacks weighed over 15 kg, and with each step, we slowly started to find the journey challenging due to the rough terrain, bone-chilling winds coming from the valley, the altitude gain, intermittent rain and snow showers. Exhausted and tired, we finally managed to reach camp Manokarma after a six-hour long climb.

It was only four o’clock in the evening, and the weather outside was already cold. Within an hour, we managed to put up our tents at Manokarma, followed by sipping some hot tea prepared by my friend Atul, a welcome relief from the shudders.

Manokarma, at an altitude of 14,000 feet, has far less amount of oxygen, which makes it difficult to breathe. Your fitness and mental strength are what helps you in such harsh conditions. After tea, it was time to give some rest to our legs. We had some delicious vegetable biryani for dinner and slept
by nine.

On 12th of September, we woke up at six in the morning. The sun was out, but because of surrounding high mountains, it took a while for its warmth to reach us. Post breakfast, we packed and geared up for our climb to the Stok Kangri Base camp – 4,980 metres above the sea level which was a three-hour journey.

As we progressed with our climb, the gain in altitude was slowly beginning to affect us. I started having a mild headache and decided to rest for a couple of hours. We spent the next two days – 13th & 14th of September acclimatising for the higher climb by trekking the nearby slopes, which were at
an altitude of 5,300 metres.

We returned to the base camp on the afternoon of 14th and after napping a while, we decided to start the climb to the summit at eleven that night. Night hours are usually the best for a climb, given that the snow doesn’t melt and the weather is much calmer than early morning hours. We carried some hot water with us for the journey and after having upma for dinner; we began our journey to climb the summit. The temperature outside was freezing at -50 C. Braving the snowfall, we reached the advance base camp at one o’ clock in the morning.

Though the sky was clear and filled with stars, it was chilly because of the wind’s speed. The fresh snowfall was another hurdle in front of us. My fellow trekker developed some breathing troubles and owing to the freezing temperatures ahead; he decided to return. I was now left with the choice to either join him or move ahead. After taking stock of his health and his assurance of reaching the base camp safely, I decided to continue with the trek.

Awaiting us was a long stretch of glacier, which had many hidden crevasses, not visible due to a thick layer of snow covering them, one thing that mountaineers fear the most.

Safely negotiating these, I reached the top of the glacier, where the temperatures had dipped to – 100 C. The winds were gaining speed. The progress was becoming slower. It was four in the morning when it started snowing, making it a challenge for me.

The altimeter read 5,550 metres and at that point, I decided to abort my summit and not move further. It was a hard decision, but as the saying goes “Getting to a summit is optional, getting down is mandatory.” I took some pictures before my downward journey. After three hours of a tiring downhill climb, I reached the upper point of the base camp. The first light on the nearby mountains was a beautiful sight to behold.

In the next half an hour, by seven in the morning of the 15th, I was at the base camp. From there, I informed my wife about my wellbeing and my companion’s safety. My friend was happy to see me back safe, and so was I to see him healthy.

After a couple of hours of rest, we decided to get back to Stok village and then Leh and by seven in the evening after a continuous six hours of downhill trek, we made it back to our cosy beds, with a delicious spread of hot food awaiting us.

The best way I could summarise our journey is by remembering the quote by the Famous French climber Lionel Terray – “On this proud and beautiful mountain we have lived hours of fraternal, warm and exalting nobility. Here for a few days, we have ceased to be slaves and have really been men. It is hard to return to servitude”.

– Shrikant Khandke
Power MPP

The heart to run and live healthy

This article is about my husband Terence (Terry), fondly referred to as ‘Runner with a Big Heart’ by his close band of runners and friends. As he turns 50 this April, I’d like to share his journey of transformation from a heart attack survivor to a marathon runner, inspiring others to lead healthier lives.

It was on our marriage anniversary day in 2013 (February 2) that Terry had a pain in his chest and felt uncomfortable. We were on our way back from a church service, and we stopped at our family physician’s clinic for a checkup. As I waited in the car for want of parking space on a crowded Saturday evening, I got a call from the clinic, asking me to come over immediately. I knew something was wrong.

The doctor told me that Terry’s ECG showed that he had suffered a heart attack, maybe a day earlier and that he should be admitted at a hospital immediately. As a diabetic, Terry probably did not show the classic symptoms of a heart attack – pain in the left shoulder, breathlessness, sweating and
dizziness. Angiography confirmed blockage in three coronary arteries, one a 95% block. He underwent an angioplasty, where two stents were inserted, and a balloon angioplasty cleared the third.

I thank Almighty Lord that Terry was lucky to get medical treatment on time. He was awake throughout the procedure, but in a state of shock even after being discharged from the hospital. While recuperating, listening to our son Adrian’s emotional talk, Terry realised he has to remain healthy for the sake of his family too. He promised to himself that he would get fit, soon.

Overweight by nearly 20 kg, after the angioplasty, Terry had to follow a new diet regime. It helped him shed around 15 kg in three months. He also met a rehabilitation physiotherapist who advised him to start with 10 minutes of brisk walk, at least four times a day and then gradually increase the duration as well as speed, while maintaining an average heart rate of 130 beats per minute (bpm).

After following the fitness schedule religiously and tracking his heart rate with the help of a monitor, Terry knew he was getting fitter. He had never run before his attack, so he had to be very careful and took all precautions before his first run. In a few weeks, Terry could jog one km easily. Within a couple of months, he could jog five km at a stretch, and there was steady improvement in his heart rate. Then there was no looking back. He ran longer distances, joined a running club to stay motivated and focussed. In October 2013, eight months after his heart attack, Terry ran his first half Marathon (21.097 km) organised by Pune Running Beyond Myself. I fondly remember some of the placards we had displayed there to cheer the tired runners, which read, “There is Beer at the Finish Line”, “Success tastes Salty, not Sweet”, “Your place in History is almost secure”.

As he never wanted to see himself as a `heart patient’, a recipient of others’ sympathies, Terry kept up his determination. Within a year of his heart attack, he dared to run his first full marathon (42.195 km). His cardiologist was initially sceptical of this idea, so he took advice from a senior cardiac rehabilitation specialist at the Asian Heart Institute, Mumbai. In January 2014, he ran his first full marathon at the Standard Chartered Mumbai event. He completed it in 5 hours and 22 minutes.It was a memorable as well as an emotional moment for Terry, and as he crossed the finish line, probably no one noticed the tears of joy on his sweat drenched face.

I am glad, in this strenuous journey, he was not alone. His two great buddies, Richard Alphons and Joy Abraham had assured me they would be with him and that he would be fine. They ran their first full marathon along with him in 2014 and they continue to be with him on practice runs and running events.

I remember the difficult 5-hour long wait for Terry to complete his Mumbai full marathon and tell me he was okay. On their return, at the Pune railway station, we surprised our husbands with garlands and sweets that left onlookers wondering who these great men were!

By now Terry has run over 20 half marathons (best time 1 hour 58 minutes) in and around Pune, Goa, Hyderabad, Bangalore and the Mumbai Marathon (best time 4 hours 40 minutes) consecutively for the last five years. So far, he has logged over 7000 km of running. Far away in Switzerland, inspired by Terry’s example my sister, Priscilla ran the Geneva Marathon, twice.

These had been exceptional years for Terry as he changed his life with dedication, determination and willpower. He was also fortunate to have the able guidance of his coach who pushed him to his limits and was with him while Terry ran his first marathon. Besides losing weight, running has helped
Terry keep his blood pressure under control and he hasn’t taken any medicine for diabetes for the last four years.

He is part of the Pune Road Runners Group (www. puneroadrunners.com). Terry now motivates people to achieve allround fitness by running and also through his lectures to corporate executives on the importance of staying fit.

– Connie Miranda
(Corporate Finance)

Doing business in India today: does it call for compromises?

Why do companies find it tough to take a stand against corruption? There is always the fear that they could lose business if they don’t indulge in, or at least turn a blind eye to corruption. Of course, there’s a cost involved in not taking short cuts. But even after the cost benefit ratios are worked out, we are still left with the question – is it worthwhile to indulge in corruption?

The answer will depend on your value system and whether you define business as merely maximising shareholder value, or, while you make profits you also uphold some principles. In the short run, a corrupt company may succeed and earn profits but the quality of our national life could suffer.

We business people are very clever. When it comes to corruption we think that it belongs to street level politicians and when it relates to business we try to take the sting and stink out of that word by using euphemisms like “governance deficit.”

Transparency International defines corruption as “the abuse of entrusted power for private gain.” In today’s world, governments and business houses wield enormous power and the nexus between them encourages and fosters corruption.

Earlier, it was believed that corruption is a by-product of certain societies, especially the developing nations. But today, we know that corruption can exist in any society, in countries under authoritarian governments as well as in advanced liberal economies and democracies.

In the pre-liberalised India, in a government-controlled economy, crony business houses profited from closeness to the political class. Only sectors like IT which had minimal engagement with the government or export oriented companies could thrive without the blessings of governments. Though we embarked on economic liberalisation in the 1990s, and moved away from the Licence Raj, corruption has found new forms of practice and patronage. Thanks to our popular practice of Jugaad – that untranslatable Hindi word to convey a curious mix of innovative thinking, bypassing of approved channels, and fixing – ethical standards of doing business remains very pliable, capable of infinite adjustments.

Today, every walk of Indian life – politics, bureaucracy or business – is tainted with corruption. Over the years we have become immune to corruption. For example, while selecting our electoral representatives, dishonesty has become a non-issue. All-pervasive corruption, certainly, is the biggest challenge before the country as it erodes the effectiveness of resource allocation and strategy for development. However, we look to someone or the other to clean up the mess. Can we respond differently? Instead of expecting others to change can business owners make a start?

While there are business leaders who syphon off large amounts from their companies for personal gain, there are also honest organisations forced to make payments to deal with harassment by politicians and bureaucrats. They also have to use ‘speed money’ to get things done that should have happened normally. It is difficult for individual companies to resist this kind of harassment. Here, business associations can initiate a dialogue between corporates, bureaucracy and political representatives to check this menace.

Independent directors are expected to assure corporate governance. But if critical information is not shared and if their opinions are not respected and followed, how can they succeed in their duties? Media continues to highlight “respectable” companies who won awards, had high powered independent directors and yet, swindled the shareholders. Facades often mask unpleasant realities.

For companies to say ‘No’ to certain questionable practices and yet do better than competitors, their products and services have to stand out. They have to focus on outstanding quality, on-time deliveries, constant upgrades through innovation and be ahead of the competitors in all aspects of business. If this happens, in most cases, there will be no need for under-the-table exchanges and it will lead to win-win business for all concerned.

It is alright to get employees sign the Code of Conduct or Business Ethics. But the demonstration of intent for ethical business has to come from the top management and it cannot be a fair weather conviction. A company’s determination to stay on and do ethical business is tested in times of business adversity. It won’t do for us to use the old Groucho Marx line, “Those are my principles, and if you don’t like them …. well, I have others.” It is only when individual conscience speaks firmly and with conviction that government and companies will pause to listen, act and reform their time-tested and questionable ways of doing business.

Corporate governance is not window dressing and business ethics is not another public relations practice to enhance corporate reputation or the company’s brand. Ethical business goes beyond profit maximisation and envelops the entire society in a virtuous wrap.

At Thermax, we decided to say no to compromises while securing orders and focus only on taking clean orders. Of course, it meant foregoing some business opportunities, which means a degree of loss in the short term. To compensate for loss in domestic business, Thermax has started focusing a lot more on globalising our operations. From a single digit figure at the turn of the century, we have reached 40% in the international share of our business.

We are a capital goods company and over 60% of our business comes from repeat orders. I am convinced that there are enough business houses keen on adopting transparent business practices as we are. Though we still experience difficulties with a few corporates and several government arms, as far as possible, we will continue to resist harassment, strengthen our processes and, with growing confidence, walk the talk.

What gives me joy is to listen to our employees say they are proud of being part of an organisation that has a great culture and is by and large honest. Today, youngsters are looking not just for pay and perks but also for occupation that’s meaningful and fulfilling. I am sure open culture and ethical conduct will go a long way in helping business houses attract talent.

Corporates need to be profitable and yet we have to find a larger purpose. What is the purpose of business? To me, the business of business is not just business, but human well-being. If we find a larger purpose, we will not be obsessed with profit at any cost. My late husband, Rohinton, expressed the idea aptly when he said, “Profit is not only a set of figures, but of values.” In business, we are used to listening to the voice of the shareholders. Can we also listen to that small voice within each of us that tells us what is right and wrong?

– Anu Aga

Lonely in a connected world

Lonely and lost in the big city: it is a theme that has been appearing in Hindi film songs over the decades. Gulzar’s Ek akela is shehar mein (film Gharonda) is a popular example. Shahryar’s little known Seene main jalan ankhon main toofan sa kyun hai (Gaman) asks in the next line: why everyone in this city is so troubled.

Though romantic feelings hover nearby in songs of loneliness, these songs speak not about just a person or of love lost. They are about life where people are cut off from friendship or love, feeling adrift from all human connection – like an astronaut alone in the vastness of space. In today’s sprawling metropolis, one can indeed live for years in a housing complex as a stranger, or as it happens in the Mumbai local, one can be surrounded by people and yet feel utterly alone.

While people in villages too can feel lonely, cities are the epicentres of loneliness. Big city alienation has been the subject of study by social psychologists, doctors and criminologists as they examine from health, crime and public policy perspectives, the devastation caused by loneliness. So is the link between alienation and terrorism.

As people migrate for better opportunities and towns grow, as old ties of families and communities weaken, everyday more and more people join the swelling ranks of the lonely. “Look at all those lonely people…where do they all come from,” sang the Beatles in their classic, Eleanor Rigby.

Earlier, loneliness was something that affected the elderly – retired people suddenly without the comfort of a set routine, pensioners troubled by illnesses, aging parents whose children have left home to live far away, and widowers whose partners of decades are no more. The problem is also becoming acute, as the number of the aged grow in India. But it’s also the young in today’s times who are prone to the loneliness epidemic. Indian media has highlighted the dislocation and emotional turmoil of young people from small towns coming to cities in search of better opportunities, how they feel lost and depressed. Cut off from homes and familiar signposts, the daily commute, work pressures and the sheer impersonality of a harsh new city wear them down.

The grey cloud of loneliness settles over anyone, of any age or class. The successful professional in Vikram Seth’s great verse novel, Golden Gate is only 26 and yet feels miserable in vibrant San Francisco : “…Dragged from his cove, not knowing why,/ He feels an urgent riptide drawing/ Him far
out, where, caught in the kelp/ Of loneliness, he cries for help.”

In cities, children find their own unique ways to cope with feelings of being alone. Psychotherapist R. D. Laing has written about a child in a London slum slicing an earthworm into two, saying, ‘… there, now you have a friend…’ Recently, the British PM announced the country’s first Minister for Loneliness. A Ministry of Truth or a Ministry of Justice is usually the stuff of dystopian novels or dysfunctional dictatorships, fabricated for propaganda. So, in this age of spin, we should be thankful the British didn’t name it the Ministry of Sunniness or Gaiety to wish away unpleasant facts.

Obviously, they are serious, even as issues like Brexit and multiculturalism dominate their discussions. Based on the Jo Cox Commission on Loneliness, the government is planning to tackle the issue in all earnestness. The move is expected to help around nine million Britons who experience the misery of loneliness. Through this policy initiative, Britain is acknowledging a growing problem of both developed and developing societies.

Ironically, ours is the time of 24×7 connectivity when Wi-Fi is as essential as water for many. With our good mornings, endless jokes and motivational lines delivered non-stop on WhatsApp and Facebook posts, we are supposedly never alone. We love to lose ourselves in the bylanes and back alleys of the virtual world. And yet, in the middle of these distractions, do we feel lonely? Some of us find that our fabulous lives on social media make our return to real lives such a boring and lonely trip.

Pascal, the French mathematician and theologian wrote in the 17th century, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Probably he had in mind the destructive energy of the political class that sent rampaging hordes on wars and conquests. Today, we are immobile in front of our screens and yet we know the restlessness, the urge to be on the move, the feeling that life is elsewhere, the impossible wish to find that perfect antidote to boredom.

We can only wish UK’s Loneliness Minister loads of good luck. In the meantime, earlier answers to the problem, and many of them known to work, have always been around. They range from creating a sense of belonging, presence of friends and family to a nourishing community life and meaningful work. Companies certainly can take care to make workplaces friendlier and stable, discourage toxic behaviour from bosses and redesign work to make it interesting and relevant. They can also resist the temptation to be too helpful – like appointing a Chief Loneliness Officer or using big data to sniff out the lonely with the noble intention of helping those poor lost souls.

– A.M. Roshan
Ex-Thermaxian

Philosopher Anonymous

Too expensive’, I had tried to bargain as I handed back the book I wanted to buy. Mani, the book seller, had refused to budge. At Higginbothams you would pay double this amount. Anyway, has any one ever paid the price of a book? It is only the cost of printing it’, he said as his wife packed it. He was full of such nuggets. Some were well known, a few were his own.

This narrative is not about books, but it would not have happened but for books. There was an unbroken thread of service which ran from Aiyya, Mani and many more who came in contact with Mani, through his books. Let me start at the beginning. Mani was a book seller in a by-lane of Egmore in Chennai. The lane had other vendors like him, who were earlier in the famous Moore Market. Book lovers had thronged the narrow lanes of that market known for its rare secondhand books. One night a huge fire gutted the Moore market which forced these vendors to shift to various parts of the city with whatever they could salvage.

Mani and his wife ran one such shop, Murugan Book House. He stocked English books. Although he sold books for a living, his real mission in life was to make the general public appreciate literature. ‘Because I grew with trees and books in the outhouse of a bungalow in Mylapore, where Aiyya, the master of the house, was a voracious reader,’ he explained. ‘He encouraged me, along with his own children, to read and discuss the stories we read. My humble class in life was temporarily forgotten, and the love of books created a level playing field.’

His shop was like any other in the locality except that a portion of it also housed his wife’s small furniture business. There were a few chairs placed for those customers who liked to browse and buy. What if your customers just enjoyed the book and didn’t buy it later, I had asked. ‘When you read a book, you create a bond with the author. His thoughts, joys, sorrows become yours for a short while. So, buying a book is a process and while doing it, some discerning customers may want to sit and browse to get a feel of the book. They generally pick up two or three books instead of one and usually buy most of them. The ones who won’t buy or can’t afford, I allow them to complete the book as they will surely come back. I don’t see it as sales lost but an investment, many a time I also send in tea for them.’ And turning to his younger sister, ‘Thangai, isn’t it good business?’

Sure, it was. I certainly went back many more times.

Mani didn’t look like an ordinary second-hand book seller, and neither was his stock of books. Most of his books came from personal collections of people who could no longer take care of them and were donated for his noble cause. Mani and his wife used most of the sale proceeds to fund a library at a local municipal school. He spent his weekends reading with the school children, introducing them to a world far away, assuring them that children in London, Lisbon or Vladivostok were just like them. ‘During these weekends I try to ignite their curiosity while removing the fear of the unknown from their hearts – my small effort to make them grow up to their full potential,’ he added.

Actually, selling books was his part time job – as he was also a homoeopath. He would recommend books as a doctor would prescribe medicines. PG Wodehouse for a stressed-out executive, Sherlock Holmes for a rainy day, Tolstoy for an insomniac, James Herriot to an animal lover. His books were painstakingly dusted and arranged in an elaborate way. He needed no ERP to locate any book in his shop. He also kept a close watch on what other vendors stocked. If he didn’t have a particular book, he made enquiries in his elaborate network and made sure you got what you wanted. Sale concluded, while his wife billed and counted money, he always conveyed a word or two about the author. Somehow, that bit of additional information seemed to enhance the value of your purchase.

When I met them, Mani and his wife had done this social service for a long time. Why did he do that? ‘Gratitude. Even though I was his servant’s child, Aiyya introduced me to the world of books and spoke to me as an equal, made me confident. This way I try to repay him.’ How long he will do this? ‘A farmer waters the coconut sapling by carrying water on his shoulders, the coconut tree repays the farmer by carrying the water on its head for a hundred years’ he had replied then.

Some time ago, after nearly a couple of decades, while visiting Chennai, I went in search of Mani’s old book shop. In its place, there stood a swanky furniture shop, Murugan Home Decor. Fortunately, I could locate Mani and his wife in a corner of the shop. Their children had grown the small furniture
business into a substantial one. Mani still had a few cabinets of books and continued with his homoeopathy and social service. Happily, he told me that many of the children from the school had done well and still kept in touch with him from all over the world. They remembered too how the window he opened to the world had made them aspire for more.

‘Now our children are into furniture business,’ said his wife. ‘Books in a furniture shop?’ I asked.

“I agree books are not part of furniture, but is there anything else that can furnish a home better?” Mani still used his quotes well.

– Lata Kumar
B&H Finance

From Recruiter to Researcher: A Personal Journey

31 st January, 2017 will always remain a special day for me. It was on that day I was awarded my Ph. D. for research in the field of Management – Human Resources.

It has been a long journey for me since I enrolled for research at the University of Pune. What led me in this direction? It always interested me to take up a subject, dig deeper, understand various dimensions and look for answers. It was in December ‘11, I mustered courage and appeared for the first of the three-staged entrance examination at the University. As the exams progressed, candidates kept getting eliminated. At the final round of personal interviews, there were more than 50 eligible applicants for one vacant seat. I recall feeling completely out-of-place. But I was ready to justify why I chose to undertake research and I had my list of possible topics that would be useful for academia and industry.

The selection panel was anxious to know if I would be able to devote sufficient time to the research, or just block another deserving candidate. I managed to assure them and thankfully, I was selected.

For my research, I chose the topic, How do we enhance employability of engineering students, both graduates and diploma holders? As an HR professional, I had seen students struggle to qualify for an engineering course, only to be labelled ‘unemployable’ after a 30-minute campus interview at the end of their course. For the students, it is agonising, and many a times, brutal.

Let me share how employability plays a key role. At our campus selection process, students with consistent academic track records who score well on our technical and aptitude tests reach the final interview. But some of them are unable to relate concepts with practical application. At a reputed institute, civil engineering students were unable to estimate simple dimensions – like that of the room where the interview happened. Though the students had knowledge, they lacked the confidence or the skills to apply what they had learnt.

Then, there is the lack of commitment. Students often asked interviewers if the job was office-based. If a civil engineer is not eager to work at site, or a mechanical engineer is hesitant to grease her hands on the shop floor, it is a serious employability challenge.

My research focused on talent at entry level; hence my interest was in ensuring that ‘key skills’, career advice and an understanding about the world of work are embedded in the engineering curriculum.

I went through the whole gamut of research methodology – review of literature, course work, design of research framework, pilot study, field survey and statistical data analysis, before I wrote the thesis. Let me admit, I wasn’t much of a reader but 4.5 years of research changed that.

Emotionally, there were times when I felt joy and satisfaction, alternating with depression and anxiety too. It was sometimes a journey of loneliness where I’d suddenly be plagued with doubts, “Will I able to complete?” But a resolute ‘yes’ would counter these fears and help me stay focused.

I met a different section of society – many students, academicians, a few bureaucrats, and senior HR leaders including our MD, Unny who shared his thoughts on the subject. For the survey, some of my best respondents were engineering students who hadn’t found jobs yet.

Broadly, the findings of my research pointed to areas of improvement – for employers to engage with the academic world; for institutes to focus on students applying knowledge; students to be committed to the engineering profession; and Governing Councils designing curricula that helped
students with outcomes.

It had been a unique and enriching experience. It was gratifying to successfully test the Employability Model in my thesis, while offering tips to governing councils, employers, engineering institutes, and aspiring students.

I owe my Ph. D. doctorate to all respondents who honestly shared their views, to the professionals who offered valuable suggestions, to my research guide for his able support, to my family who encouraged me to follow my dream and to my gurus who showered their blessings.

– Devendra Bora
HR Power Division

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