My Guiding Words for 2016

Over the period of years, at the outset of each new year, I pen down my intentions – words & thoughts that guide me throughout the year. At times, these are the pieces that I learnt the hard way during the preceding year, or somethings that I read or heard and which stayed with me. I note them down, and they become my reminders for the year-round.

For the year 2016, here they are:

1. Will cut down on time taken during the decision-making process. Will watch and act against time wasted in unnecessary meetings and reviews.
2. Won’t attend all arguments I get invited to. Simply, won’t. Will stay away from people bringing negative energy. Two-feet distance, at least.
3. Will authentically look out for at least one good deed every day – done by anyone around me. Will thank the person before the day ends. Delayed and/or unexpressed gratitude isn’t useful to anyone.
4. Will call a spade by no other name. Will stay polite when I do so.
5. Will continue to focus and work on the strengths of my team. Will keep pushing them to excel. Give more credit and take more blame as a leader.
6. Will be a better spouse. Find lesser faults with and show more affection and respect to wify Neha.
7. Will teach my son Rajvir how to swim.
8. Will give higher attention to my health; and not merely via lip-service. Will go on vacations; will encourage my team to do so too. Will choose happiness and choose to spread it.
9. As Jeff Weiner recommended, will dream big, get shit done and have fun while I do so.

The intention behind writing my guiding principles and goals is simple – it inspires me everyday to achieve them, stay true to them. That’s what I will try and do with above nine intentions for 2016.

What are yours?

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PS: Here are the links to my guiding principles earlier years. You you liked reading the above post, chances are, you’d like these too:

• This New Year, Let’s Find God Within Us All
• Words Have Power 

स्याही का रंग…

आजकल मैं बड़ा विचलित हूँ। गाय को ‘माँ’ कहने वाले, एक-दूसरे की माँओं को गाली दे रहे हैं। दूसरी तरफ, मज़हबी हाशिये की तुच्छ राजनीति करने वाले कुछ अहमक़ सियासतदां जानते-बूझते इस जम्हूरियत में छेद करके UN जाना चाह रहे हैं और यह जता रहे हैं कि कैसे इक ख़ास किस्म के गोश्त के टुकड़े की भूख़ पूरे देश के भूखे मरते आवाम से बड़ी है। कहीं तो स्याही का रंग इतना वीभत्स हो चला है कि वो लिखने के लिए नहीं, मुँह काले करने के काम आ रही है, ऐसे कि भगवे रंग के हिमायती भी भगवा छोड़ इस काले रंग के मुरीद हो चले हैं। कौन भारतीय हिंदुस्तान में रहेगा और कौन पाकिस्तान जाये, ये बताने वाले कितने सारे हो गए हैं। दूसरी ओर, स्याही के सिकंदर लिख कर विरोध ना जता कर, सरकारी और गैर-सरकारी पुरस्कार वापस कर के जता रहे हैं। जानवरों की ऱक्षा करने के लिए टीवी चैनलों पर इतनी चिंता बिखरी हुयी है कि दिल्ली महानगर में होते मासूमों के बढ़ते दुराचारों की भयावह चीखें नक्कारखाने में बजती तूतियों के समान प्रतीत होती दीखती हैं।

इतनी नकारात्मकता फैली है… अजब हड़बोंग मचा है चारो ओर.… संस्कृति और धर्म के नाम पर। गाय के नाम पर, सारे-के-सारे बछिया के ताऊ, यानी बैल, हुए जा रहे हैं। सुर्खियां और वोट बटोरने के लिए धर्म का बाजार गर्म है।

हिंदी भाषा के महान लेखक, रामधारी सिंह दिनकर ने एक जगह कहा है:

“संस्कृति ज़िन्दगी का एक तरीका है और ये तरीका सदियों से जमा होकर उस समाज में छाया रहता है, जिसमे हम जन्म लेते हैं।”

मैं शहरे-अवध लखनऊ की गंगा-जमुनी संस्कृति का बाशिंदा हूँ; बचपन से मेरे मित्र सभी धर्मों के थे, आज भी हैं। मिशनरी स्कूल में हिन्दू और मुस्लिम दोनों पढ़ते थे, हम अपने सिख दोस्तों के साथ गुरूद्वारे जाते और जब भी मौका मिले, बंगाली रसगुल्ले नाक डुबो-डुबो कर खाते। जब कभी हम आपसे में लड़ते-भिड़ते, वो मजहबी रंग न लेकर दो छोरो की आपसी लड़ाई मानी जाती थी। होली और ईद, दोनों पर खुश होना हमने सीखा। मंगलवार को हिन्दू दोस्त गोश्त नहीं खाते, इस वजह से हमारे मुस्लिम दोस्त-यार ख़ुशी और पूरे मन से शाकाहारी खाना खा लेते थे, ना कि मज़हबी आज़ादी के नाम पर ‘बीफ पार्टियां’ आयोजित करते। दीवाली पर खील-बताशों के माफ़िक ईद पर सिवईंयां मैं आज भी खोजता-लाता हूँ। मेरे लिए ये ज़िन्दगी जीने का तरीका, मेरी संस्कृति है। हमारे मरहूम वालिद साहब कहा करते थे, “जो धारण करने योग्य है, वही धर्म है।” ये सीख बहुत बचपन से मेरे साथ रही। तब तो, कम-स-कम मेरे बचपन के दिनों में, हिन्दू अगले और मुस्लिम पिछड़े या मुस्लिम आगे और हिन्दू पीछे – ऐसा नहीं होता देखा मैंने।

इस मज़हबी गैर-रवादारी और राजनीतिक असहिषुणता ने सारे देश में एक बेचैन कर देने वाली मानसिकता पैदा कर दी हैं। और वो काफी हद तक हमें बाँटने में सफल होती भी दीखती है!

पर क्यों?

How I Learnt A Crucial Leadership Lesson From My Garden

While interacting with my gardener today, I realized an invaluable lesson in people leadership and employee engagement. A lesson, that originates from a mistake I made early this summer…

Those of you who know me well are aware that I am gardener at heart.

Having spent my childhood in the lush and greener surroundings of a cantonment, I developed a green thumb from very early on. Baba, my late father, was the one who taught me the nuances of nurturing a sapling. He and I would spend hours every Sunday, attending to our plants. Lot of heart and effort went into what I know now of gardening.

In the concrete world of the Millennium City – Gurgaon, I am one of the lucky ones to have a sizable garden space in my home. I built this green space from the scratch; every day, I feel a sense a fulfillment when I stand there. On weekends, you’d mostly find me working there in a corner, personally managing the growth and upkeep of each of the plants. Each blooming flower and reaping fruit is a resultant of my love and labour for my garden.

Looks like I am losing track. What was my mistake and what is the leadership lesson learnt?

Let me introduce you to CB, my ex-gardener. He was my key aide in building and nurturing this garden. CB was a trusted, old hand for over 7 years. He was extremely dedicated, hard-working and polite. Though I was aware that he didn’t possess the deeper skills of gardening, his efforts and willingness to work with the family ensured better growing plants, blooming flowers and a neat-&-clean garden area. He was also loyal and smart enough to save me money – he’d bring smaller saplings from the greener sidelines of the colony, painstakingly make cuttings of otherwise expensive plants and make my garden look nicer, without burning a whole in my pocket. He would also sit and listen to my rantings of how knowledgeable I was about gardening and amuse me. High on personal integrity – he was a trusted family aide and we would not think twice before leaving him in charge of the home. In that role, he was also helpful as a Man-Friday in all family events; often running small errands, without much ado.

One fateful day, something happened that made me lose my cool, and how!

Around the onset of last summer, I bought hundreds of periwinkle flower saplings. Baba used to love this flower; every year, I would grow them in large parts of the garden. Continuing the tradition, I decided to cultivate them this summer too, expecting the entire garden to bloom within a month. Just a day after we planted these saplings, the entire family traveled out of station. As always the responsibility of tending to the garden was with CB.

I came back after a week, and to my utter dismay, found most of the saplings dried out – dead… Of course, they weren’t watered for days…

CB was summoned. I gave him a verbal lashing; no holds barred. He, and another maid, who shared this responsibility – both had erroneously assumed that the other would have watered the plants. Result: no one did either water or check. Delhi’s on-setting scorching summer heat dried out nearly all the saplings.

Seeing this damage, my emotions took better of me. As I continued to lose my cool, he stood folded his hands in front of me. CB did try to explain. I didn’t pay any heed; I was furious. And as they say, in such temper, you only say words that you regret later.

As a result, CB, my loyal aide for years, was heart-broken to hear my overtly tough words. He was visibly upset being scolded in front of the entire household. And despite the fact that realized my overstepping on the heat and calming down soon after, CB decided to move on. He moved back to his hometown and didn’t come back. Even if he did return to Gurgaon, I didn’t see him… For many days, I rued this loss. All others were upset too at home. My mother didn’t say much, though I know she wasn’t too happy either with my outburst. My ‘better-half’ didn’t opine much either, but I knew that she wasn’t too happy knowing this incident… Other servants too didn’t like it, I know… I too was feeling apologetic…

I waited for a few months and tried to trace him down; no avail. I engaged another gardener…

Working for last 8 months, my new gardener too is a good man. He knows the craft and has gardening skills that CB didn’t. He too works fine…

And only just fine… my new gardener works by the clock. He cribs more often. He demanded and got a higher salary. He expects me not to correct him at all, should I see things not going right. I am still not sure of his personal integrity, albeit I haven’t experienced otherwise as yet. He hasn’t yet become a trusted family man-Friday, let alone my mother and wife entrusting him with the home errands or the family events. Does he think and act in my best interest each time, I am not sure. He works hard and yet, takes a clinical approach – not with interest and passion to make the garden look its best. He doesn’t save me money. He knows a lot, much more than CB, but doesn’t bring the passion and politeness…

I miss CB every time when I interact with my new gardener. The garden still looks nice and clean, but not spotless. Flowers still bloom, but they aren’t planted with the heart… No wonder I don’t see the same view, despite all my own individual efforts…

This morning, when we were planting the winter saplings, I found my new gardener again cribbing about the amount of work it entailed… I didn’t stop myself from giving him a sermon on work-ethics. He didn’t seem impressed; I could see it… And I surely didn’t want him feeling disengaged. Hence, to bring him around, I handed him a 100 rupee note as an added incentive… Then only I found him smiling. Something, that CB never expected…

Leadership lesson learnt for life.

Think of my garden as an organization, myself as a leader or the promoter and CB as a trusted & engaged employee. Most often then not, organizations lose good talent because of bad managers or even when good managers lose it on small mistakes. CB did make a mistake and that did cost me money and agony. It also led to a lost opportunity and a poorly bloomed garden the whole summer. That said, he still was a trusted, long-standing employee, with only good for the organization and the leader in his heart. His record of seven years was much meaningful when compared to the loss of one summer… Losing him due to a heart-burn, purely due to a leader mismanaging a crucial conversation, was a big loss. It could have been completely avoided.

Many times, such employees will go join competition – their organizations will bloom better than yours. How often we see this in organizations? Quite often…

We can always hire a more efficient replacement. But the cost of replacement of a trusted employee & team-mate is way high; much higher than only the monetary cost. It costs the company, the leader, the team many bigger things – passion, dedication, trustworthiness, and above all, it dents the organizational culture for all other employees, new and old.

Well, I made a mistake. I dropped my pennies that day. And I realize it thrice a week now. I am sharing this life and leadership experience, which I learnt the hard way, with you all, so that you can learn from my mistake – in your gardens, and in your organisations…

If you are lucky to have a CB in your home, company and team – value him. Allow him a mistake or two. Even big ones at times. When he does make such a mistake, watch out for how you reprimand; handle the crucial conversation that may go awry and don’t lose it then. Trust me, losing CBs in today world of talent crunch can cost way too much…

Now, its your turn. What do you think? Do share your thoughts…

What If We Fail…

India meets Australia tomorrow – the semi-final of ICC World Cup 2015. The game we all have been waiting for… a game in which billions of Indians all over the world don’t want Dhoni and men to fail… a game, where victory is being treated like a need, where failure isn’t an option.

I am feeling quite restless. What if we fail tomorrow? What if the journey of the Indian team’s world cup ends tomorrow? The same team, which fared extremely poorly down under in last 4 months and which almost has risen like a Phoenix in last 7 matches of this tournament. What if they lose now…

In this hour of my restlessness, I find solace and hope in the words of a very old advertisement I had read. It was by Bajaj Auto, and if I recall right, was a campaign for the motorcycle brand ‘Bajaj Caliber.’ I read it long, long ago, loved it and noted it in my diary. It has, since then, helped me sail through some of my own tough moments;

What are we going to do when we fail?

When we find the wrong kind of tears,

running down our cheeks.

When we look at our Gods

and see mortals instead.

When the sports page

reads like an obituary.

When we know all others are

celebrating our grief.

What are we going to do when we fail?

We’re going to look up from our toes.

And into the sun. Without flinching.

We’re going to walk out there alone.

Again.

Grit our teeth.

Take guard.

And wait for the next ball.

Like a true fan, I too would love India to win tomorrow. But more than that, I would love the game of cricket to win, the game to stay belonged to the gentlemen, where we are allowed to fail at time… and not crucified for it.

This New Year, Let’s Find God Within Us All…

Thirteen long years ago, around the same year-end time, I had read this heart-touching story. I was deeply moved; and as a habit, noted it down in my diary. As a young lad, this story left a deep impression upon me at the time and since then, I start my each new year reminiscing it.

This year, as all of us get ready to usher the new year in, I am sharing this piece with you: 

One cold evening during the holiday season, a little boy about six or seven was standing out in front of a store window. The little child had no shoes and his clothes were mere rags. A young woman passing by saw the little boy and could read the longing in his pale blue eyes. She took the child by the hand and led him into the store. There she bought him some new shoes and a complete suit of warm clothing.

They came back outside into the street and the woman said to the child, “Now, you can go and have a very happy holiday.”

The little boy looked up at her and asked, “Are you God, Ma’am?”

She smiled at him and replied, “No, son. I am just one of His children.”

The little boy then said, “I knew you had to be some relation.”

Touching, isn’t it? This story helped me stay more human year on year, welcoming the new year on a nicer note… I wish you all a very happy new year 2015; hope that you find your reasons and means to show you are the chosen one by the Lord Almighty to play His children, same way as the young lady in the story.

God bless you all…

Abba…

“Abba jee!” I heard my friend’s five-year old daughter calling him today; we were speaking over phone and he was telling me fascinating stories about how fast kids grow. As a father of a 2-month old, I couldn’t agree any less. Yet, what stayed in my mind, and heart, was the word, ‘Abba’…

From the time I remember, I always addressed my father as ‘Baba’; while Daddy’s, Dad’s and Papa’s were the most commonly used terms in family, friends’ circles and society at large; no one of my generation that I knew addressed their father as Baba. An occasional Babu jee or Pita jee could still be heard, but the numbers were too far in between, and surely none of these kids came from the convent-educated elite and bourgeois class!

To me, ‘Baba’ was sweet and personal. And to my father, it meant the world… the very sound of the word was pleasant to his ears, so he would say…

All these memories came back to me today, when I heard my friend’s daughter addressing him in the most affectionate manner… Abba…

I am reminded of something I read long ago, in Thomas Smail’s book – The Forgotten Father –

“Abba is not Hebrew, the language of liturgy, but Aramaic, the language of home and everyday life… We need to be wary of the suggestion… that the correct translation of Abba is ‘Daddy.’ Abba is the intimate word of a family circle where that obedient reverence was at the heart of the relationship, whereas Daddy is the familiar word of a family circle from which all thoughts of reverence and obedience have largely disappeared… The best English translation of Abba is simply ‘Dear Father’.”

 Does this strike a chord with you?

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Image-credit: divineviewpoint.com

थोड़ी सी करुणा, बहुत सारा सुक़ून…

पहली कहानी: कुछ दिन पहले मैं दफ्तर से निकल कर कनॉट-प्लेस के ट्रैफिक-सिग्नल पर रुका हुआ था। शाम का वक़्त था और हमेशा की तरह बेहद भीड़ थी। मेरा दिन भी कुछ थका देने वाला था; भूख भी लगी थी। मैंने बैग में देखा, दो केले रखे हुए थे। बीवी को मन-ही-मन धन्यवाद देते हुए मैंने शुरुआत की। कुछ यूं ही अचानक बाएं तरफ के फुटपाथ पर नज़र पड़ी – एक छोटा सा बच्चा खड़ा हुआ था – उन मे से एक जिन्हे माँ-बाप सिर्फ आमदनी के ज़रिये बनाकर पैदा करते हैं। वो मुझे ही नज़रें बांधें देख रहा था…

मैंने उसे इशारा करके पास बुलाया, जीप का शीशा नीचे कर के एक केला उसे देने को हाथ बढ़ाया… वो अपनी जगह से हिला भी नहीं। मैंने मुस्कुरा के आवाज़ दी, “ले ले यार.…”… वो बेहद धीमी गति से पास आया, और सहमते हुए मेरे हाथ से केला ले लिया। एक पल उसने मुझे ग़ौर से देखा, और फिर एक बेहद मार्मिक, सरल मुस्कराहट मेरी तरफ उछाल दी… और उस फ़ल को अपने छोटे से सीने से लगा के दौड़ पड़ा, शायद अपने दोस्तों को दिखाने…

मैं आपको बताऊँ, बड़े समय के बाद इस करोड़ों लोगों के महानगर में इतनी निश्छल, निःस्वार्थ व बाल-सुलभ मुस्कान देखी। दिन बन गया! उसके बाद अगले डेढ़-घंटे का ट्रैफिक से भरा दिल्ली-से-गुड़गाँव का सफर, जिसे रोज़ाना मैं झींकते-खीज़ते पूरा किया करता हूँ, उसी पूरे रास्ते उस रोज़ मेरे चेहरे पर एक मुस्कराहट रही, शायद उस बच्चे की ख़ुशी के प्रतीक के रूप में…

दूसरी कहानी: दिल्ली-गुड़गाँव में इस बार झुलसा देने वाली धूप और गर्मी है। तक़रीबन दो हफ़्ते पहले ऐसे ही एक तपते रविवार को घर बैठे मैंने अखबार में पढ़ा – गुड़गाँव शहर की इस गर्मी में तक़रीबन तीन-चार सौ तोते और सात-आठ सौ कबूतर गरमी से आहत हो कर दम तोड़ चुकें हैं। लिखने वाले ने कम होते पेड़ों, बढ़ती बहुमंज़िला इमारतों और पक्षियों के लिए घटते दाने-पानी और छाँव का ज़िक्र किया, और जनता से गुज़ारिश की कि अग़र संभव हो, तो मिट्टी के बर्तन में पानी घर के बाहर रखें। शायद कुछ पक्षी बच जाएं…

खबर पढ़ के मन ख़राब हो गया। मेरे घर में एक बड़ा सा बागीचा है। नीम के एक बड़े से पेड़ की छाँव तले मैंने अनेक पेड़-पौधे लगा रखे हैं। सैकड़ों की संख्या में पक्षी आते हैं; उनके दाने और पानी के अलग-अलग बर्तन रखें हैं, जिनमें रोज़ सुबह-शाम खाने की मचती होड़ आप देख सकते हैं इन पक्षियों के बीच। कबूतर, तोते, लुप्त-होती गौरैया, मैना, बुलबुल… और भी ऐसे पक्षी जिनके नाम मैं नहीं जानता, इस बागीचे में, खेलती-कूदती गिलहरियों के बीच, कलरव किया करते हैं। एक मज़ेदार, सुकूनदायक चहल-पहल रहती है। इस दाने-पानी का ध्यान मैं खुद ही रखता हूँ, बाकी घर-भर को भी हिदायत है कि कमी न होने पाये।

यही सोचते हुए अखबार रख कर मैं बाहर आया – भीषण धूप थी और एक भी पक्षी या गिलहरी दिखाई नहीं दे रही थी। पानी के बर्तन पर नज़र गयी, मैं थोड़ी देर उसे देखता रहा… कुछ छोटा सा लगा उस दिन मुझे वो; ख्याल आया, इस बर्तन को तो वही पक्षी देख पाते होंगे जो जानते होंगे कि पेड़ों के मध्य उसका स्थान कहाँ है… पानी ठंडा रहे, इसलिए मैंने ही उस उसे दो बड़े पौधों में बीच रख दिया था। अहसास हुआ कि फिर उन पक्षियों को जो इस चिलचिलाती गरमी में पानी ढूँढ़ते उड़ रहे होंगे… उन्हें तो यह बर्तन दिखायी नहीं देता होगा…

सोचते-सोचते एक विचार आया; गाड़ी निकाली और पुराने गुड़गाँव के कुम्हारों के पास जा कर, एक बड़ा सा मिट्टी का तसला ले आया। कुल-जमा सौ रुपयों का ये बर्तन इतना बड़ा और चौड़े-मुँह वाला था कि दूर गगन से साफ़ दिख जाता। पानी भरा, और उसे बीचों-बीच बगीचे में रख दिया।

आप देख सकते हैं, कैसे अब ये सिर्फ पानी पीने के ही नहीं, चिड़ियों के नहाने-भीगने के भी इस्तेमाल में आता है – मानों चिड़ियों का स्विमिंग-पूल! अब हमारे यहाँ दो पानी के बर्तन हैं, और दोनों में ही पानी पीने वाले पक्षियों की संख्याँ बढ़ गयी है। कुछ नए पक्षी भी आने लगे हैं…

और मैं, और भी खुश हूँ…

यकीन मानिये जनाब, आप को भी इन चिड़ियों का हड़-बोंग पसंद आएगा, एक अजीब सा सुकून तारी होगा…

नहीं मानते? आईये हमारे यहाँ…एक चाय आप और हम पीते हैं इस शोर और इन अठखेलियों के बीच, आप भी मान जायेंगे 🙂

कैसे होता हैं ना; हमारी दौड़ती-भागती, उलझती ज़िन्दगी कैसे कितनी छोटी-छोटी खुशियों को ढूंढ कर हमारे सामने ले आती है; बस शायद  ज़रूरत है तो थोड़ी सी करुणा की…

इन दोनों कहानियों को पढ़ कर अगर आपके चेहरे पर भी मुस्कराहट आयी हो, तो मुझे ज़रूर बताइएगा।

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Image-1 Credit: gettyimages.in

When will we not have religion rule our politics?

It is election time in the largest democracy of the world – India. INDIA – A land, where “…we are all drunk on change”, as I read Sir Mark Tully quoting an Indian sage.

I am baffled, though. Every time I switch on the TV, I hear terms like – Hindu, Muslim, Dalit, Sikh, Jat, Yadav… And everyone uses these terms – whether it is the proclaimed Dealer-of-Hope, change-specialist Narendra Modi, or the Ray-of-Hope for Congress – Rahul Gandhi. Sonia, Priyanka, Rajnath, Arun Jaitley, even AK – everyone without an exception does that. National Leaders or the regional ones – Mulayam, Mamata and Maya alike!

Quite evidently, no one is wooing just an Indian!

If we are so drunk on change as a nation, and this is claimed to be the most crucial elections this country has ever witnessed, I wonder when will a time come when I will switch on the television and NOT hear these divisive terms, and our country, society and polity will only be concerned and talking about us just as citizens, just as Indians!

In my lifetime? Not sure…and yet, hopeful.

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Image-credit: indianmuslimobserver.com

If you liked this post, you may also like reading these earlier blogs:

गरीबी, धर्म… और वोट…

Banana Republic…

Love, Hope, Miracles…

“She would view breaking faith with the hope of a miracle a betrayal, little better than treachery”

Sometimes, on an otherwise mundane day of our lives, life brings to us stories of true love, of grit, hope and other such miracles of life. Today is one such day, when I came across the sentence quoted above. This was a family friend of the Schumachers, Corrina and Michael. He was echoing sentiments of Corrina, Michael’s wife, who is hoping for miracle. We all know the F1 champ is in coma since Dec 29, after suffering severe brain damage in a freak accident while skiing. Corrina, his wife for 23 years, is spending £10 million on a fully-equipped medical facility at their residence, in the hope that her husband can return home to recuperate, instead of being lodged in an ICU.

In the world full of ‘practical’ people, who prefer rational approach while dealing with such hope-without-hope situations, her belief, her companionship, her unflinching support to a near-lost husband is a rather relieving news. There is hope for hope, it seems!

Schumacher, our beloved champ, is in prayers of his millions of fans. I am adding Corrina’s faith too in my prayers. After all, didn’t someone say, ‘Miracles are natural. When they do not occur, something has gone wrong.’

Let’s add our faiths to hers; it is still known to move mountains…

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Image-credit: Eurosport – Corrina and Michael Schumacher

You may read the full text of this news here…

Capability and Career-Growth Go Hand-In-Hand

Sharing something that a young HR professional recently said. Thought-provoking words that have stayed with me…

This one’s a bright and promising junior of mine from college, with whom I was exchanging a few emails a while ago. He works for a large Indian IT multinational and had been associated with the company for over seven years now; he joined them right after MBA school. He performed well and consequently, has climbed up the ladder at a speedy and consistent pace.

During the conversation, I remarked on his consistent growth within the organization and as his proud senior, expressed my admiration. He responded in measured words. Words of wisdom, I would say; something that young managers don’t speak too often, at least whilst referring to the pivotal cross-linkage that depth of learning has with career-growth.

I am quoting him:

“…My career priority is to build depth. Growth has been incidental…”

Sharing this with all budding professionals; these are words their worth in gold.

As someone who interacts with young professionals and management students extensively, I often observe a disturbing mismatch between the aspirations of management professionals vis-a-vis their quest & hunger for knowledge – the real mastery… In fact, I wrote a blog on this a while ago – (MBA की ‘मास्टरी’)

Let me know what you think. If you are a young professional entering the corporate world or a management student; I would love to know your thoughts…

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Image-credit: venuscablejoints.com