Death, desert and dessert

Death, desert and dessert.

It has been some 6 years. Musings seems to have lost that melancholic tint. Most probably time still is the best antibiotic on memories.  Even my mother’s voice was less of tears this time and mostly tinged in matter of fact recollection.  And partly orchestrated and rest coincidental, I found myself in the middle of a desert on a rather uneventful death anniversary day of my dad.  Absolutely in the middle of nowhere. Almost like the proverbial empty quartet.   Miles and miles of very plain land lay in all 8 directions from that oil gathering station. The barren brownish land needed a mercury level to make it self realize that it is not that flat. No tree, leave alone a blade of grass or hill was in sight.

 Though the picture was in stark contrast with the lush green picturesque place in hinterland Kerala, where I was born and brought up, there indeed was something exhilarating about this place. Irritatingly the place did look familiar to me.  Then I realized the number of hours I had spent as a kid reading the stories of “The thousand and one nights” (Arabian nights) casting a spell now. After all Aladdin got his magic lamp from the souks of Muscat.  The deadening silence and sense of space can  alter anyone’s state of mind and make him a time traveller.

 No wonder, Thesiger the last of the great explorers wrote in his classic travelogue “No one can live this life and emerge unchanged”.

 In another perspective it is a paradox. While  an oxford educated  blue blooded  Brit named  Thesiger, loathed the modern civilization of cars and other  amenities and  adored lives of  Bedus and nomads of Arabia,  most of the current day  - sons of soil - ‘s only aim  is “coming to town” .  It is the town built on reclaimed sea from the riches of oil and banking where camels  are replaced by  Prados.  

As the horizon was   bathed in the color of saffron, i became aware of the sun setting not very far off.  Maybe it is going into another oil well. The   Sun gets more beautiful hues in the desert than in the sea.  It is in those rather hazy moments  with no specific  starting or end points where  day meets night,  you realize  that  human lives does mirror nature.

When one visualize oneself rather egotistically as the center   of this vast ocean of sand, it is rather easy to forget as a person we are nothing more than a spec of sand in dunes of time.

Forceless Force ...

This note which  was  posted exactly 3 years back( 26 Oct 2009), came up in my memory  while reading a news report on Mallya's arrival  on a private jet for  F1 race in India to lead and cheer his F1 team. Time moves .. context may change.. Many things get better.. like  the title of the story..  But some stories and people remain where they are..  happy reading.

Dr. Samuel Johnson who often has been described as "arguably the most distinguished man of letters in English history" and whose lasting legacy is Johnson’s Dictionary of English Language is also known for his take on Patriotism.  The context in which he said to have remarked “Patriotism is the last resort of S@@###s” is not very clear. It is good to validate the context in current geopolitical scenario.  A couple of articles published in leading Indian media over the last fortnight on diverse topics had a common theme.  Patriotism.

Primarily there are two important occasions where India Media and common Janata use the touchstone of Patriotism.  One annual event of   Nobel prizes and second the Olympics.

Let me quote Dr. Venkatraman Ramakrishnan who won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry recently. “People have also taken offence at my comment about nationality being an accident of birth. However, they don’t seem to notice the first part of the sentence: We are all human beings. Accident or not, I remain grateful to all the dedicated teachers I had throughout my years. Others have said I have disowned my roots.  Since 2002, I have come almost every year to India. In these visits, I have spent time on institute campuses giving lectures or talking to colleagues and students about their work, and stayed in the campus guest house. I have not spent my time staying in fancy hotels and going sightseeing without them. …..
In my case, I am lucky to have had a combination of education, opportunities and a great team of co-workers to have made a contribution to an important problem. I am not personally that important. If I hadn’t existed, this work would still have been done. It is the work that is important, and that should be what excites people.

Finally, there are many excellent scientists in India and elsewhere who will never win a Nobel Prize. But their work is no less interesting and people should find out about what they do. My visits to India confirm that it has great potential and bright young students. A little less nationalistic hero worship will go a long way to fulfill that potential. “

In my view, that is the perception of one simple soul’s great way of looking at life and work.

And the second article was about Force India “Our “Own” Formula 1 team, which is in stark contrast of previously quoted article.    Infact the only Formula 1 team in the circuit which uses a country’s name and wears Patriotism on the sleeve.

“Those who are getting worked up - due to nationalistic reasons. Apart from the money, there’s little that’s Indian in the team. Of the 28 key team personnel listed on their website, only one is from India – Mallya. Mercedes Benz supplies the engine, McLaren the gearbox. The drivers are European. Force India is the only team on the Formula One circuit that uses a country’s name. “

Probably that is the business of Patriotism.  Or Patriotism of business.  “Patriotic Indians” hardly remember  it is the same person  who  hired  one Kevin Peterson  at an astronomical sum to lead his  franchise in India  Premier League  and  then had to rely on our  own  old war horse  Anil Kumble to save the blushes. Infact there was nothing royal or Challenging about it till Mr. Kumble took over the mantle. Mr. Kumble  who is  a perfect professional  whether he represents the country, state or club , did  a fantastic job without  comparing the money  Mr. Peterson took home for  a score line of   1s and 0s.. 

It is  really surprising that  most of the people  hardly realize that  Nationalistic and Religious  fervor  are two conditioning tools smart guys have used from time immemorial to influence  the unsuspecting common Janata  and have their way. Whether it is in business or politics.

Probably that is the context in which Samuel Johnson had remarked that “Patriotism is the last refuge of ……”.  His scholarly work of English Dictionary said to have remained the top seller in its category for some 150 years.  And his statement w.r.t Patriotism will remain relevant in varied contexts till the mankind lasts in this planet.

 

 

Whisperers of Trust.

Whisperers of   Trust.

I was really looking to fill one of my empty weekends with some activity for Facebook showoff during my recent work related trip to South Africa.  As someone who had read a bit about  apartheid,  I asked  Terrence Ndaba  friend, driver and comrade-in-arm in Joburg, the way to the apartheid museum in downtown Joburg.  Terrence, one of the most customer centric professional  I had met in my life ( who would tune patiently  for a  Tamil or  Hindi FM channel for his  Indian friends), suggested safari and game reserves. Though I was born and brought up near Silent Valley national park, nature held very little interest for me.

When the hotel tourist coordinator   insisted “if u have not visited a game park here in SA u have not visited SA”, I started glancing thru their brochures most reluctantly. But then Krueger was a 3 -4 days sojourn and got immediately ticked off from the list. He told us about the private game reserves in Africa. And my own goggling took me to “the lost world” of Lawrence Anthony and Adamsons.  

I did visit the lion park  near Joburg with  Terrence on a  Sunday and  on the way back  walked into a  book store ( filled with  books on Wild life) in Rose bank.

The first book I could lay my hands on was  a gripping, funny and  sometimes tragic story of   Anthony’s  life with  huge but empathetic creatures called Elephants.. A former business man who happened to buy some 5000 acres for setting up a private game reserve,  ended up as one of the  most famous  conservationists of recent times (especially after his successful effort in saving  Baghdad Zoo).  His “real” story starts when he was asked to accept a herd of “rogue” wild elephants on his ThulaThula reserve. He was the herd’s last chance of survival as the authorities were planning to kill wild beasts. “Elephant Whisperer” is Anthony’s story, how he could earn the Trust of   Matriarch of the herd, Nana, connect with them, communicate them and live amongst them without harming the elephant herd or getting harmed for so many years.  

To quote from a guardian article “And as he battled to create a bond with the elephants, he came to realize that they had a great deal to teach him about life, loyalty, and freedom.   Anthony has worked to rehabilitate them, to the extent that they will even come when he calls. Last month, we were granted a rare glimpse of the bond between Anthony and the herd. We are deep in the African bush when Anthony cups his hands to his mouth and calls: "Come baba, come girls." The elephants were last sighted a mile or so away, and for 10 minutes there is silence. Then, on the far side of a clearing, the trees rustle and the first giant grey head breaks above the bushes. Another follows, pausing only to rip a branch from a tree. Soon, as seven or eight of the herd approach, Anthony ushers us from open ground into the relative safety of the vehicle. Within seconds, the animals are poking their trunks through the open windows, their wrinkled faces and eyelashed brown eyes just yards away. We pull forward, and the elephants follow. Only when Anthony guns the engine do they give up the chase. “

It is that trigger which lead me to the animal (which includes incidentally homosapiens) world of trust and harmony. 

 The legend of the Elsa the lioness and Adamsons, absolutely captivating and most spiritual account of connect between humans and wild animals in the modern world.  Joy, who had literally adopted Elsa, the orphaned lioness, painstakingly prepared the lioness for a life in the wild. And the lioness spent her time in the wild and came back quite often to be with her adopted parents. The most touching part of this real life story is when Elsa came back to the camp with 3 of her cubs as if to introduce them to their grandparents.

 Let me quote David Attenborough “The Adamsons were both extraordinary people but they had a curious sort of tunnel vision. When we arrived, Elsa had disappeared after a fight with a wild lioness who was trying to oust her, and when Elsa turned up, Joy was over the moon – she cried out Jinja mbusin! Which is Swahili for ‘Kill a goat? Why didn't she love goats the way she loved lions?

A couple of hours after I arrived, I awoke from a siesta to find Elsa lying on me. She was very big and very heavy and had appalling bad breath. Elsa didn't take much notice of me generally, or of any human beings. She simply tolerated being cuddled by Joy. …..She was murdered in the end, by one of her staff, and George was killed by shiftas (local bandits). It's a sad story. “

For someone  who lived among Lions and other wild animals, literally  for some  50 +  years, the  tragedy of just not Adamson’s but human race was  both Adamson’s got killed in their advanced years by wild humans and not  by  caring lions. (Elsa, Christian, Boy and many more of them…)

One of the common threads in both the stories was that of Trust and harmony. Only when there is trust between man and animal, there is harmony.  Only then they connect and communicate. Trust does come from being trustworthy. The keyword is Being. But most of us try to become something which we are not and end up as incongruent.

I left the land of kind animals, to be among modern evolved humans, who were fighting it out in Tantri Turmoil over rather a trivial matter.   Most of the emails smelt full of malice, like wild animals urinating in the forest to establish their territory. Just to warn the reader, stay off or get mauled. All of them had and showed off their long religious credentials and flaunted talismans like claws and teeth. In reply, the wise ones, tried to communicate rationally and businesslike. It was futile attempt to convince the unconvinced. They seems to be impervious of the fact that, even if Siddhartha, Gautama, who could transform someone like Angulimala had arrived on the scene, people might have demanded an Indian passport / or a Karnataka DL as identification and would have asked him to follow the process.

Time and distance bring in much needed objectivity and more light in the tunnel. We were all trying to convince without communicating, communicating without connecting, trying to connect with so much of trust deficit between people.

People seem to have forgotten the wise man’s saying “What u r speaks so loudly, I can’t hear u speaking”.The Adamson’s and Lawrence of this world knew this secret and went on to live with wild lions and elephants.  Maybe we could also find the secret of living in harmony during this lifetime, without taking our own chances in the wild.

Practice of Best practices. Is it always the case of "Could have been better"???

Don’t remember when I read it first. May be some 6 -7 years back.  But I do remember where I read it. From the pages of The Hindu. Especially the phrase!  “That was Best, could have been better.”

 That wonderful article is still green in my memory. Maybe the gene I had inherited has a Soccer chromosome.  Or is it the wonderful and enviable prose in which Nirmal Shekhar wordsmiths his poetry on sports in the pages of The Hindu. It was an obituary on George Best, the football legend.  A well-deserved one.

The trigger that made this memory stream, to pop out of the depths of my rather greying neuron web   was a conversation I had with a friend of mine.  On what else, but the “Practise of best practices”.  I had to strain my sinews to convey the message that “what worked wonders somewhere else may end up as cropper at her place”.

Nature understands it. Sadly we don’t.  

Giant redwood sequoia trees are good for the shores of California, but for the sand dunes of Arabia cactus is more suitable.

Though it is in Professional services this hackneyed phrase of best practice used to death, I would rather blame it on the way our civilization has evolved.

I would not be totally off the mark in saying that the “Practise of best practices” and survival of mankind has gone hand in hand.  [Literally paraphrasing Aswath Damodaran’s quote on Risk from his classic book on RISK. IMV the best book on RISK].  

The average life span of our ancestors was less than 40.  They seemed to have lived short and unforgiving lives.  Instant decisions they had to make on a moment to moment basis had to be from their reptilian parts of their brain.  The moments of truth such as “Get your supper or be one”   never affords one, the luxury of strategic decision making.  There was always one best way of getting away from a preying animal. Do you remember the South African comedy movie “the Gods must be crazy” in which an African bushman travels to the end of the earth to get rid of trouble making coca cola bottle. Now remember the little boy and the hyena scene.  The way the young African bushman boy tried to appear bigger was / is a best practice. I would recommend one of my favorite books, The Cry of the Kalahari, in which Mark and Delia Owens have documented their own time with the Lions of Kalahari.   It is said “If you see a lion, do not try to run away or turn your back on the animal. Try to make and hold eye-contact with the lion. With many cat species, prolonged eye-contact is a sign of dominance. Try to appear larger, in any way possible. If you have a child with you, try to put them on your shoulders, to make you appear even bigger.”  

Travelling further ahead, Lions have made ways to modern buildings.  Incidentally most of the Best Practices has originated from 4 human endeavors.   Construction, Farming, Shipping and War.

In Ancient Rome, where giant arches were built as a way of showing off, they had one quirky way of ensuring quality.  When they removed scaffolding, it was always warranted that the builder stood underneath.  That was quite an incentive to ensure a good job.  And some of those arches did last for a very long time.  The ones that did not were the ones in which the architect was buried alive, half dead or dead.  (I really wish one of my good friend, who makes his millions from Clinical research of medicines, adopts this practice.)

The point is there was always one best way to survive for our ancestors.  Either one used to learn from the wisdom of the way from the ‘One fortunate One’ who survived to tell his story. Or Perish.  The choice was that simple.   Now this is a cursor to how the affinity of best practice seeped into our own subconscious mind similar to “fight or flight”.

Times had changed but acquired habits did not.  

Even though the corporate jungles are no different thematically, in a way we are more fortunate than our ancestors and don’t have to imprison ourselves in  the  prison of mindless mechanical way of doing things.  We can always use the thinking part of our brain and “Apply thought”.

As a Consultant, it is vital for us to get rid of the mantra “What is good for Peter is good for Paul”.  

One Best  practice  which will always do good,  is  ADAPT [to the new Context (culture, environment, constraints and possibilities), become ADEPT before ADOPTing a best practice to your situation.

Or we may end up hearing again “That was BEST, but could have been better”.