Chak De: Fighting tooth and nail with a team spirit

Posted on September 16, 2007

Chak De: Fighting tooth and nail with a team spirit
15 Sep, 2007, 0316 hrs IST,Apurva Purohit,

Team games have long been seen as character building sports by the world. In Chak De, the allegorical reference to hockey has been used to talk about larger issues assailing our country and much has been written about that, from gender empowerment to the eternal battle between the attention paid to cricket versus all other sports.

For me the movie was, however, a reaffirmation of how sports can teach us some basic lessons in manage-ment, which help mould us as managers and corporate executives, for the better.

Among the many good things my alma mater, Stella Maris College in Chennai, believed in, a 360 degree effort to develop the mind, the soul and the body was key. As such, willingly or unwillingly all of us had to sign up for a sport the moment we entered the hallowed portals of the greatest women’s college in South India.

Serendipitously, I joined the hockey coaching sessions and much to everyone’s surprise, including mine, ended up getting selected as part of the college team. To everyone’s further surprise and shock my short sporting career graph rose sharply with me playing for the Madras University and the Tamil Nadu state team in the three years I spent at Stella.

What was even more surprising was that I ended up enjoying the sport very much! The early morning practices, the gut wrenching situps, the straps chafing into ankles, the navy blue bruises all over our legs, all paled into insignificance against the camaraderie of the team, the satisfying thwack of the ball into the opponent team’s goal post and the glory of various saves made with a courageous leap at the ball.

We were a motley group of girls from all parts of the state from sophisticated Chennai to not-so-sophisticated North Arcot and Selam. One of the first tournaments we played was at the All India National Women’s annual meet. Of course, we were no match for the strapping players from Punjab, the hardy Haryanvis, or the quicksilver teams of the North East . We lost the first two matches by a wide margin and it was rare for the ball to even cross into the opposite side of the field.

As the goalkeeper of the team, I decided that I was culpable for the losses and got into an extremely defeatist frame of mind. I was convinced I would be dropped from the next game and for the next match while the rest of the team went about the business of practicing and warming up, I stood around moping and made no attempts to get into the spirit whatsoever. The team was announced and I was indeed, dropped as the goal-keeper.

We, of course, lost that match too. My coach walked up to me later on and told me that she had decided to drop me, not because of the previous losses (according to her it was the team which had as a whole failed and no fault could be ascribed to any single individual) but I was dropped because she could not afford to have a goal keeper who had lost the desire to win and as such would not even attempt to play well It was not losing the game but my negativity and unwillingness to warm up and get going which had de-termined whether I would be part of the team or not.
Through my demeanor I had clearly indicated to her that in my mind I had already lost the game much be-fore stepping on the field .As coach her duty was to send on the field a team which was willing to at least try till the final whistle even though the odds were clearly stacked against us!

This happened nearly twenty years ago but I have never forgotten that lesson. The reality in life is that one has to keep trying ceaselessly and continuously in whatever one under takes. Wins and losses will be part of every endeavor but to give up at any stage, till the very end, cannot be an option. Especially as managers and executives, everyday there will be something that will not go our way but we have to keep pushing, striving, trying.

( The author is CEO of Radio City )

Why we cannot tolerate criticism

Posted on September 16, 2007

Why we cannot tolerate criticism
13 Sep, 2007, 0005 hrs IST,PARAMAHAMSA SRI NITHYANANDA, TNN

A lady came to me complaining that she is hurt by even small criticisms coming from others. She said she was very sensitive.
I asked her to stop using that word. I said, ‘You are not sensitive. A really sensitive person will be porous; she will allow the words to pass through her. Only arrogant people get hurt. If you are hurt, please understand that you are arrogant. You are strong like a stone, which is why words come and hit you.’

A sensitive person would have allowed the words pass through her; she will never suffer. Even if someone is deliberately rude, a sensitive person understands where such a person is coming from and is not defensive.

Suffering is always from arrogance, never from sensitivity. A person who is sensitive will never suffer. A sensitive person will suffer on account of another person in distress, not for oneself.

You suffer from words when you stop them, when you resist them, when you create your own meaning out of them. When we do not create our own meanings out of words, we do not suffer. We play with words. We always choose nice words to support our ego. We do not say, ‘I am hurt because I am arrogant.’ We always use polished words such as, ‘I am hurt because I am sensitive.’ Please don’t cheat yourself with words. Let your words be unfiltered by your ego.

Let me tell you a small story:

Once, a contractor wanted to donate a sports car to an official. The official refused, saying, “I am an honest person and I cannot think of accepting this gift.” The contractor asked him, “In that case how would it be if I sell you this car for Rs 10?’ The official replied immediately, ‘In that case, I will have two cars!’

When an untruth is wrapped in gift packing, you forget you have a problem. You accept it without a murmur. However, when truth is presented bare, you do protest. Presented bare, truth hurts; ego cannot tolerate truth easily.

We are so concerned about politically and socially correct statements, it seems no longer acceptable for anyone to speak the truth. But it seems to be perfectly acceptable to lie in a politically correct manner.

Ramakrishna says beautifully, ‘Let your words and mind be straightened.’ Whatever is, let it be offered straight without filtering. Learn to accept truth bare. At least you will know you have a problem that you can solve.

All for one, once and for all

Posted on September 15, 2007

All for one, once and for all
Khushwant Singh, Hindustan Times September 14, 2007

We are one nation: the consciousness of being one people has grown over the last 60 years and stood the test of unity whenever our borders have been encroached upon by our neighbours. But we have yet to become an integrated nation.

Community differences persist, and far too often manifests in ugly forms — sometimes by outbreaks of communal violence, other times in demonstrations by publicity-seekers pretending their religious susceptibilities are hurt by something someone has said or done. I give a few examples from recent times.

A few nights ago in Agra, a truck hit four men returning from Shab-e-barat. As it happens far too often: people in this vicinity vented their anger by setting fire to trucks, buses, cars and vandalising shops. When it was discovered that the four men injured by the errant truck were Muslims, the violence turned into a Muslim riot. The only explanation is that though outwardly we appear as one people, we have yet to become actually integrated.

Two Sikh members of Parliament, the cricketer Navjot Singh Sidhu of the Lok Sabha and Tarlochan Singh of the Rajya Sabha, were shown participating in a havan, performing a Hindu ritual. Sidhu belongs to the Hindu BJP; Tarlochan Singh was elected by BJP’s support.

At Har-ki-Pauri in Hardwar, I’ve seen many perform pooja; they come to immerse the ashes of their relatives and have pandas; all of whom are Hindus, perform Hindu rituals before immersing the ashes. No one finds it unusual. But now both Sidhu and Tarlochan Singh are being castigated for indulging in un-Sikh practices. The inference is that though Sikhs are a part of the Hindu mainstream, there are vociferous elements that are trying to prevent their integration.

All of us — Hindus, Muslim, Christians and Sikhs — have become over-sensitive and touchy about what we construe as attacks on our cherished beliefs.

Some Sikhs are out on the streets protesting against immigration officials examining Sikh turbans before letting them in. But I have not heard anyone protesting against having to surrender their kirpans before they board planes bound for foreign countries. There is no logic behind the protests but they generate the much sought-after publicity.

There are quite a few people who are forever on the look out for what they can construe as attacks on their religion.
Leading a pack are Sushma Swaraj and Murli Manohar Joshi. More than once after they have proclaimed themselves as defenders of their faith, they found that, in fact, no one had actually said or done anything that could be remotely interpreted as offensive to anyone. It is pathetic.

What remains now to knit us all together into one nation, in the true sense of the word, is a more person-to-person relationship between members of different communities. We need more family-to-family mingling, and we must abolish the feeling of ‘us and they’, and actually manage to cultivate the spirit of We Indians.

Baba and his Hen

Human-animal bonding is often more emotive than relationships between humans themselves. Without doubt dogs come first on the list. They respond to human affection more than any other animal and give much more in return for what they get.

However, if a person has more than one as his or her pet, they get half of what they get if they had only one. Cats come next. They cuddle up, love sitting on peoples’ laps and purr in self-satisfaction. But they are selfish creatures and will do the same to anyone who gives them a bowl of milk.

Birds like parrots, mynahs and partridges also get attached to their masters. My friends Romesh and his German wife Ella have a grey African parrot in their large multi-storeyed apartment in Frankfurt. It spends most of its time in a cage, even though the cage is never shut. When Romesh returns from work, in the evenings, the parrot goes wild with joy. It flies around the room, squawks loudly before settling on its master’s turban. Then it perches on his shoulders, tweeks his beard as if its kissing him.

Another friend, Tristan-Jones, kept a donkey in his large unkempt garden of his house in Birchington by the sea.

Every evening, when he returns home, as soon as it hears the sound of its master’s car, the donkey goes berserk, starts galloping wildly, kicking its hind legs in the air and braying hee haw to the skies. It then follows its master into the house, is given a few carrots or sugar cubes before it starts to cool down. Then it put its head in Tristan’s lap and looks at his face adoringly with its large soulful eyes, occasionally snorting liquid out of its flayed nostrils.

Tristan pats its head, kisses its nose and talks lovingly to it before he greets his wife, Analie, and the children. The donkey then trots back into the garden.

But one picture I have will never go out of my mind is of Baba Sohan Singh Bhakna, the founding father of the Indian Ghadar Party in America. He was then in his 80s, bent double with age and living alone in a mud hut outside his village, Bhakna, between Lahore and Amritsar.

When I went to visit him, he was lying on a charpoy talking to somebody I could not see. Just above his charpoy was an alcove in which sat a brown hen with its head sticking out. I sat down on a stool, the only piece of furniture in that room, and I started asking him about his past and his days in America (the Ghadar Party and his years in jail). I hadn’t finished this conversation when the hen started cackling. It became louder, and more persistent. Baba admonished her: “Sabar Kar — be patient.”

But it went on and on getting louder and louder. We could not carry on our dialogue, “Achha bhai, too jittee — okay, you win,” he said. And he slowly got up from the charpoy and hobbled to the alcove, put his hand in and brought a freshly laid egg to show to his hen. He patted her on her head and said, “Shabaash — well done! Ab bahaar ja kay khelo — now go and play outside.” The hen clucked in gratitude and went out of the room to let us finish our dialogue.

Touching the heart

Posted on September 14, 2007

Touching the heart
By Saleh Al-Shaibany (Desert Classics) / for Khaleej Times WEEKEND 14 September 2007

I ARRIVED late at a business management seminar. The room was bejewelled with the cream of top business people in the country. I felt small when I entered, but the cloak of journalism that I wore gave me confidence.

As the British lady spoke on the podium, I wondered what these top shots sitting at round tables in a posh hotel could learn from her.

Ten minutes later, I realised why they were all listening intently to her. I recognised half the faces there. They were men and women who were holding senior positions in companies which have fallen behind in their businesses. In other words, they were not making good profits to please their shareholders.

I was not there to pick at people’s faults or even to learn a few management tricks from the expert speakers. I was only there because I had nothing better to do, and so I had decided to please a PR officer managing the event by turning up.

I was about to leave when the lady at the podium said something that made me stop. She asked the delegates to look at the list of words printed on the slides — words like “professionalism,” “eye contact,” “firm hand shake” and “quick decision making” were important to clinch a business deal.

I saw many in that room feverishly making notes, hanging on every word she said. I scanned the list and wondered why she had not included “honesty” and “human element”.

I waited for another 20 minutes for her to start inviting questions. I was the first one to raise my hand. I am not sure what happened. I was sitting right at the back and I thought she was looking in my direction. But instead, she just waited, or I thought she did, until another man demanded attention. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and waited for the next turn.

She ignored me repeatedly until I gave up. The man next to me said maybe I should move to a table in the front. Instead, I moved out of the room and towards the parking space.

The theme of the seminar was right, but the delivery was wrong.

Last week, there was a tribute to Bollywood legend Shashi Kapoor in Muscat. He entered the hall with clasped hands in salutation to show deep respect to his fans. During his long film career, he told the audience, he showed nothing but respect to his elders. That was one of the main reasons that had propelled him to stardom.
In Oman, what “clinches the deal” is the way you hold the coffee cup, the way you decline more coffee by gently shaking the cup. And the way you gladly drink coffee from the same cup the next person has used even when it is not washed.
Europeans who live in the Gulf respect these cultural rituals, though they don’t necessarily accept the so-called “disgusting” ones. Understanding local cultures and heritage pave the way to business agreements in a big way when a local man is the decision maker and has to choose between two people.
I remember, when I started out as a reporter, a senior company executive flatly refused to give me information just because I did not pray in the mosque near my house — the one he worshipped in. For many, it was an absurdity, but it is the way it works here.

Good professionalism provides sound business background, but so does a dagger with a strong stem, but lacking sharpness. You can hold it as a decorative piece, but can’t carve out the choicest meat. A palm on the chest when you apologise might be just a gesture, but it may touch the heart of your potential business partner.