In nearly 30 years of working in the corporate world in India, I have come across many characters. Some were close colleagues, some were mentors, some went far, some fell by the wayside. Some of my best lessons were from those who taught me how NOT to be a leader. Some unforgettable lessons in humility were from people who grew from very humble backgrounds to unimaginable levels through pure talent and intelligence.
Some are long
associations, others are fleeting memories, and yet others – while being a blip
in the memory-radar – are burnt into the hippocampus. They suddenly come to
mind with a word, phrase, sight, sound or smell, like an annoying doorbell on a
drowsy Saturday afternoon. No matter how you loathe it, you have to leave your
vegetative state and walk up to the door.
Last night
in a WhatsApp exchange with my nephew, this person popped into the foreground
of my conscience. I don’t remember his name but the face is clear in my mind.
He was a well-to-do guy from a deep rural area somewhere on the banks of the
Godavari, or was it Krishna – one of those at any rate. He was very sharp,
high-IQ, technically one of the most brilliant minds, but a veritable simpleton,
uninitiated into the vagaries of the cosmopolitan society.
There was a
day on which I had asked a few team members to come home. Or was it waiting for
people at some location? The others were taking their time but this guy turned
up early. I made an effort to tell myself not to be snobbish, and turned to him
brightly for conversation. It turned out that he was as curious about me as I
was about him. He was not being intrusive, but genuinely interested in how to
spend his time in Bangalore.
Of course, I became the paragon of hobby-guidance. I asked him about his interests, spoke about how the drama scene – yes, even Telugu drama – was pretty good in Bangalore, how he could go around and see places in the city, told him to visit Kokkare Bellur with friends, asked him about his interest in ancient architecture, etc.
I realised that I could not gauge whether he was following
me. When I stopped and allowed him to speak, he asked me about music. So, I
told him about Carnatic concerts in Bangalore, fusion music concerts, rock
shows in the Palace Grounds, etc. There was no point mentioning Deep Purple by
name.
Then, after
a thoughtful pause, he hit me with, “Do you go to discos?”
That threw
me right off! Oh, was that what he wanted? He wanted to explore the pub and
discotheque scene in Bangalore! He was asking about Guzzler’s Inn and I was
telling him about Muthuswamy Dikshitar! I changed direction, spoke about how Bangalore
used to have a great discotheque scene, about Zero-G and Spinn and how some illegal
activities spoilt it all. I told him about the Cinderella Rule, the 11:15 shut
off, etc.
I stopped.
He was clearly bewildered. “What exactly are you looking for?”, I asked him.
“I like all
discos but usually Shiva discos”, he said. I was stunned. My prejudiced mind had
attained Shinkansen speeds and was not slowing down.
I thought
maybe they have something like this in their village. Dancing places with various
God themes? Maybe they have bhaang in a Shiva disco? How does that work?
“What is
that?”, I asked him. “Is that something that happens in your hometown?”
“In my
native”, he started. Another huge pet-peeve of mine, bringing out my snob. I
could not possibly expect him to say “native place” or “hometown”, but I was as prejudiced as Lady Catherine de Bourgh at a milkmaid's wedding.
“They tell
such stories. Sometimes also Ramayana and Mahabharata”, he concluded!
It hit me like the entire set of one lakh bricks lining the dockyard at Lothal.
DISCOURSE!
He had been asking me if I went to discourses! Back to the great Dikshitar then!
I suddenly
realised that I was mentally exhausted. I told him that unfortunately, I did
not go to discourses. I did very rarely if it was a part of a set of concerts,
but not very often. I was then rescued by others arriving. Or perhaps, HE was
rescued from me!
I don’t
know if I remembered and ever mentioned this incident to anyone, but it
suddenly flashed last night after a few dormant decades!
I hope that
guy is doing well. And I hope I have learned to be humble and non-judgmental in
the intervening years!
