Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 July 2016

When We Need To Take The Rightful Decision.



Put A Frog In A Vessel Of Water And Start Heating The Water.
As The Temperature Of Water Rises, Frog Keeps On Adjusting With Increase In Temperature.
Just When The Water Is About To Reach Boiling Point, The Frog Is Not Able To Adjust Anymore.
At That Point The Frog Decides To Jump Out But Is Unable To Do So, Because it Has Lost All Its Strength In Adjusting With The Rising Water Temperature.
Very Soon The Frog Dies.
What Killed The Frog? Many Of Us Would Say The Boiling Water.
No, It's Frog's Own Inability "To Decide When It Had To Jump Out."
We All Need To Adjust With People And Situations, But We Need To Be Sure When We Need To Take The Rightful Decision.

Saturday, 25 June 2016

by Dilip Kumar

“At the peak of my career, I was once traveling by plane. The passenger next to me was elderly. Dressed in a simple shirt and pant, he appeared middle class but well educated. Other passengers kept glancing at me. But this gentleman appeared unconcerned. He read his newspaper, looked out of the window, and when tea came, he sipped it quietly. Trying to strike a conversation, I smiled. The man courteously smiled back and said hello. We got talking and I brought the subject to cinema and asked, “Do you watch films?” The man replied, “Oh, very few. I did see one many years ago.” I mentioned that I worked in films myself. The man said, “Oh, that’s nice. What do you do?” I replied, “I am an actor.” The man nodded, “Oh, wonderful.” That was it. When we landed, I held out my hand and said, “It was good to travel with you. By the way, my name is Dilip Kumar.” The man shook my hand and smiled, “Thank you. I am J. R. D. Tata.” I learned, no matter how big you are, there is always someone bigger. Be humble. It costs nothing.”
– Dilip Kumar

Tuesday, 19 January 2016

Story on Discrimination

It was a crowded flight and a beautiful lady aged around 40 years boarded the flight as the passenger. She searched for her seat and found her seat was next to a black man.

She showed that she wasn’t in a hurry to take her seat as she found it too hard and awkward to sit next to a black man.

Feeling disgusted, the beautiful lady called the air hostess and asked her to change her seat.

The air hostess requested for a reason why she would like to change the seat.
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She replied, “It is impossible for me to sit next to a black man, I hate it!

The air hostess was shocked to hear these hard words from the one who looked so dignified and composed.
She again demanded her to get her a new seat. The airhostess said she would do so and requested her to wait for a few minutes.

The air hostess went in search of an empty seat for the lady. The air hostess told the lady, ‘I’m afraid Madam, there is no vacant seat in the economy class and the flight is almost full! However, we do follow the policy to fulfil the desires of our passengers to the maximum extent possible. So, give me a minute, I will check with my captain and get back to you, as we feel it is not fair to force a passenger to have an unpleasant seat!’

The lady waited for a couple of minutes and the air hostess came.

The latter replied, ‘Madam, sorry for this inconvenience. We don’t want to make your journey unpleasant by making you sit next to someone with whom you aren’t comfortable. There is one seat available in the First Class. Although we don’t allow any passenger to move from economy class to first class, to make you a happy customer, we are doing this for the first time in our company’s history. Our captain agreed to shift from economy class to first class.!’

Just before the lady said any word as a reply, the air hostess humbly requested the black man and told him, ‘Dear sir, would you please shift your seat to first class? Please retrieve all your personal items from your seat and our captain would like to move you to first class as we don’t really want you to have an uncomfortable journey sitting next an unpleasant person, with an ugly mind!‘

The lady was quiet and frozen! A few of the fellow passengers were happy and gave huge applause for the flight crew!

Kindly read this awesome story - its little lengthy but truly touching.
Also like to request you  to Fwd to all right-thinking people who detest discrimination based on colour, race, caste and religion.

Saturday, 16 January 2016

Two Small Stories

Two small stories (it's important you read both) that show how the examples we set today, may help shape the character of generations tomorrow.
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STORY - I
We all know about Al Capone. The notorious gangster, mafia who virtually owned Chicago. He was a crime boss who lorded over the windy city dealing with all sort of crimes prostitution to murder to ...you name it...and he escaped the law for many many years. It was because of one man his -lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie."

Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.
To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but Eddie got special dividends, as well.

For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day.. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.
Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly.

And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son- he couldn't pass on a Good Name or a Good Example.
One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. It's believed Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.

So he decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al "Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great.

Nevertheless, he testified.
Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street. But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay. Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a religious symbol and medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.
The Poem read:
"The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop, at late or early hour. Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with a will. Place no faith in time. For the clock may soon be still."

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STORY - II
World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Cdr Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.

One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.

He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.
His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.

As he was returning to the mother ship, he saw something that turned his blood cold; a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet.

The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger. There was only one thing to do, only thing he'd learned growing up. He must somehow divert them from the fleet.

Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent.

Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible, rendering them unfit to fly.

Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.
Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.
Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft.

This took place on February 20, 1942 , and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Medal of Honor.

A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29. His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.

So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.

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Uh..wait, what do these two stories have to do with each other?
Well, you see, Butch O'Hare was .............

"Easy Eddie's" son.

Life is not just about ourselves, it is also about doing something for others,,,,

You might change the life of one person today just by simply being there.!!!

Sunday, 3 January 2016

Story - Positive Attitude



A famous writer was in his study room. He picked up his pen and started writing :

Last year, I had a surgery and my gall bladder was removed. I had to stay stuck to the bed due to this surgery for a long time.

The same year I reached the age of 60 years and had to give up my favorite job. I had spent 30 years of my life in this publishing company.

The same year I experienced the sorrow of the death of my father.

And in the same year my son failed in his medical exam because he had a car accident. He had to stay in bed at hospital with the cast on for several days. The destruction of car was another loss.

At the end he wrote: Alas! It was such bad year !!


When the writer's wife entered the room, she found her husband looking sad & lost in his thoughts. From behind his back she read what was written on the paper. She left the room silently and came back with another paper and placed it on side of her husband's writing.

When the writer saw this paper, he found his name written on it with following lines :

Last year I finally got rid of my gall bladder due to which I had spent years in pain....

I turned 60 with sound health and got retired from my job. Now I can utilize my time to write something better with more focus and peace.....

The same year my father, at the age of 95, without depending on anyone or without any critical condition met his Creator.....

The same year, God blessed my son with a new life. My car was destroyed but my son stayed alive without getting any disability......

At the end she wrote:
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This year was an immense blessing of God and it passed well !!!

 The writer was indeed happy and amazed at such beautiful and encouraging interpretation of the happenings in his life in that year !!!

Moral : In daily lives we must see that its not happiness that makes us grateful but grate-fulness that makes us happy

Wednesday, 30 December 2015

Unconditional love



Some time ago, a friend of mine punished his 4 year old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the small child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree. Nevertheless the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said ” This is for you Daddy.”

He was embarrassed by his earlier over reaction… He opened the box and his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.

Then he yelled at her:
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DON’T YOU KNOW when you give someone a present there’s supposed to be something inside of it???

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said,

Oh Daddy it’s not empty, I blew kisses into the box , all for you Daddy.

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her for forgiveness. My friend told me that he kept that gold box near his bed for years.

Whenever he was discouraged he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there. In a very real sense each of us has been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses.

There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

Tuesday, 29 December 2015

School admission



Awesomee ......A story in one of the schools in Chennai where admission is considered impossible!!!

To get UKG admission

The child could not understand why they brought her there..

When we all were standing, the school principal started to converse with the child....yes...in English only! This is one of the most memorable interview I have ever witnessed in my life..
Here goes..

"What's your name?"

"Sarithra"

"Good. Tell me something you know"

"I know many things. Tell me what you want...!"

Alas, there is no better point for not getting the admission!

Sarithra's mother was trying to make up the situation but the principal stopped her..

Turning to child, she said.. "Tell any rhyme or story which you know.."

Again,"Which one you want.. Rhyme or Story!?"

"Ok. Plz tell me a story.."

"Do uou want to hear what I studied or what I wrote..!?"

Taken to surprise, she asked "Oh! you write stories...???"

"Why should I not write..?"

Now even I was taken aback But she was impressed with the answer. She ( including us) would have not heard such a story in our life...

Ok, tell me story which you have written-?
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Sarithra said "Ravanan kidnapped Sita & took her to Srilanka"

The opening scene failed to impress but still she encouraged the child to continue..

"Rama asked Hanumans help to rescue Sita. Hanuman too agreed to help Rama ..."

"Then?"

"Now, Hanuman called his friend Spider man." No one expected this twist in the story!!

"Why?"

"Because there are lot of mountains between India and Srilanka.. but if we have Spiderman we can go easily with his rope..."

"But Hanuman can fly isn't it.. ?"

"Yes. But he is having Sanjeevi Mountain on one hand so he cannot fly very fast.!"

All is quiet, after a while Sarithra asked "Should I continue or not?.".

"Ok plz continue!"

"Hanuman and Spiderman flew to Srilanka and rescued Sita. Sita said Thanks to both!"

"Why"

"When you are helped you should say Thanks!"

So Sita requested Hanuman to call Hulk..."

All were surprised.She realized our curiosity and said " Now Sita is there, so to take her safely back to Rama she called Hulk"

"What??? "Hanuman can carry Sita right?"

"Yes. But he has Sanjeevi Mountain in one hand and has to hold spider man on the other"

No one could control thier smiles. " So when they all started to India they met my friend Akshay! "

"How come Akshay there now?"

"Because its my story and I can bring any one there!"

The principal didn't get angry but waited for the next twist

Then all started to India and landed at Chennai Velechery bus stop!

Now I asked,"Why they have landed In Velechery bus stop?

"Because they forgot the way..& Hulk got an idea and called Dora!"

I came to know about Dora only there...!

"Dora came and she took Sita to Velechery Venus Colony...that's all!"

She finished the story with a smile.. 😀

The principal asks "Why venus Colony...?"

"Because sita lives there & i am Sita!!!"

The principal was impressed and embraced the child. She has been admitted in UKG & was gifted with a Dora doll...
😊☺👍👍👏👏☺😊

Kids can really amaze... but we clip their wings (creativity) expecting them to do things as we see it right & not from their viewpoint.

Let's give every child freedom to do their own thing & watch their dreams come true...

👆 it is One of the good posts I've seen

Friday, 25 December 2015

Death

~DEATH~

WHAT A WONDERFUL WAY TO EXPLAIN IT!!!!!




A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, “Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side.”

Very quietly, the doctor said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You do not know what is on the other side?”

The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.
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Turning to the patient, the doctor said, “Did you notice my dog? He’s never been in this room before. He didn’t know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing…
I know my Master is there and that is enough.”

May today there be peace within you.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

Saturday, 12 December 2015

A child's wish




 A Primary School teacher asks her pupils to write an essay
 "what wish do you want from God?" At the end of the day, the teacher
 collects all the essays given by her pupils. She takes them to her
 house, sits and marking them. while marking the essays, the teacher
 sees a strange essay written by one of her pupils. That essay made  her very emotional. Her husband comes and sits beside her and saw her crying. The husband asked her wife "What happened?"
 .
 She answered "Read this. It is one of my pupil's essay."
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"Oh God, Make me into a Television.
 I want to live like the TV in my house.
 .
 In my house, the TV is very valuable. All of my family members sit around it. They are very interested in it.
 When the TV is talking, my parents listen to it happily and calmly.
 They dont shout at the TV. They dont quarrel with the TV.
 They dont slap at the TV. So I want to become a TV.
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 The TV is the center of attraction in my house.
 I want to receive the same special care that the TV receives from  my parents. Even when it is not working, the TV has a lot of value.
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 When my dad and mom come home, immediately they sit  in front of the TV, switch on it and spend hours.
 The TV is stealing the time of my dad and my mom.
 If I become a TV, they will spend their time with me.
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 While watching the TV, my parents laugh a lot and they smile  many times. But I want my parents should laugh and smile with me.
 So please make me into a TV. .
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 And last but not least, If I become a TV, surely I can make my parents happy and entertain them. Lord I don't ask you anything. I just want to  live like a TV. Please make me into a TV."
 .
 The husband completed reading the essay.  He said "My God, poor kid. He feels loneliness. He did not receive
 enough love and care from his parents. His parents are horrible".
 .
 The eyes of the primary School teacher filled with tears.  She looked at her husband and said "Our son wrote this essay".

Tuesday, 8 December 2015

Failures - APJ Abdul Kalam




Let me tell you about my experience. In 1973 I became the project director of India’s satellite launch vehicle program, commonly called the SLV-3. Our goal was to put India’s “Rohini” satellite into orbit by 1980. I was given funds and human resources — but was told clearly that by 1980 we had to launch the satellite into space. Thousands of people worked together in scientific and technical teams towards that goal.

By 1979 — I think the month was August — we thought we were ready. As the project director, I went to the control center for the launch. At four minutes before the satellite launch, the computer began to go through the checklist of items that needed to be checked. One minute later, the computer program put the launch on hold; the display showed that some control components were not in order. My experts — I had four or five of them with me — told me not to worry; they had done their calculations and there was enough reserve fuel. So I bypassed the computer, switched to manual mode, and launched the rocket. In the first stage, everything worked fine. In the second stage, a problem developed. Instead of the satellite going into orbit, the whole rocket system plunged into the Bay of Bengal. It was a big failure.
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That day, the chairman of the Indian Space Research Organization, Prof. Satish Dhawan, had called a press conference. The launch was at 7:00 am, and the press conference — where journalists from around the world were present — was at 7:45 am at ISRO’s satellite launch range in Sriharikota [in Andhra Pradesh in southern India]. Prof. Dhawan, the leader of the organization, conducted the press conference himself. He took responsibility for the failure — he said that the team had worked very hard, but that it needed more technological support. He assured the media that in another year, the team would definitely succeed. Now, I was the project director, and it was my failure, but instead, he took responsibility for the failure as chairman of the organization.

The next year, in July 1980, we tried again to launch the satellite — and this time we succeeded. The whole nation was jubilant. Again, there was a press conference. Prof. Dhawan called me aside and told me, “You conduct the press conference today.”

I learned a very important lesson that day. When failure occurred, the leader of the organization owned that failure. When success came, he gave it to his team. The best management lesson I have learned did not come to me from reading a book; it came from that experience.


The Vision

I climbed and climbed
Where is the peak, my Lord?
I ploughed and ploughed,
Where is the knowledge treasure, my Lord?
I sailed and sailed,
Where is the island of peace, my Lord?
Almighty, bless my nation
With vision and sweat resulting into happiness

Thursday, 3 December 2015

Managing Anger by Gurdjieff




When Gurdjieff's father died Gurdjieff was only nine years old. The father was poor. He called Gurdjieff close to him and told him, "I have nothing to give you as your inheritance. I am poor, and my father was also poor, but he gave me one thing that made me the richest man in the world, although the outside poverty remained. I can only transfer the same to you.

"It is some advice. Perhaps you are too young and you may not be able to do it right now, but remember it. When you are able to act according to the advice, act according to it. The advice is simple. I will repeat it, and because I am dying, listen carefully and repeat in front of me what I have said so I can die satisfied that I have transferred the message that may have come down from father to son for centuries."
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The message was simple. The father said, "If somebody insults you, irritates you, annoys you, just tell him, ? I have received your message, but I have promised my father that I will answer only after twenty-four hours. I know you are angry, I have understood it. I will come after twenty-four hours and answer you.' And the same with anything. Give a gap of twenty-four hours."

The nine-year-old boy repeated what the father said, and the father died, but because it was such a moment the message became engraved. As he repeated the message, the father said, "Good. My blessings will be with you, and now I can die peacefully." He closed his eyes and died. And Gurdjieff, even though he was nine, started practicing what was given to him. Somebody would insult him, and he would say, "I will come after twenty-four hours to answer you because that's what I have promised my dying father. Right now I cannot answer you."

Somebody might beat him, and he would say, "You can beat me right now, but I cannot answer. After twenty-four hours I will come and answer you, because I have promised my dying father." And later on he used to say to his disciples, "That simple message transformed me totally. The person was beating me but I was not going to react at that moment so there was no question except to watch.
There was nothing I had to do: now the person was beating me, I just had to be a spectator. For twenty-four hours there was nothing to do.

"And watching the man created a new kind of crystallization in me. After twenty-four hours I could see more clearly. At the moment when he was beating me it was impossible to see clearly. My eyes were full of anger. If I was going to answer at that moment I would have wrestled with the man, I would have hit the man, and everything would have been an unconscious reaction.

"But after twenty-four hours I could think about it more calmly, more quietly. Either he was right - I had done something wrong and I needed, deserved, to be beaten, to be insulted - or he was absolutely wrong. If he was right, there was nothing to say to him except to go and give him thanks.
If he was absolutely wrong... then there was no point at all in fighting with a man who is utterly stupid and goes on doing such wrong things. It is meaningless, it is wasting time. He does not deserve any answer."

So after twenty-four hours everything settled down and a clarity was there. And with that clarity and the watchfulness of the moment, Gurdjieff changed into one of the most unique beings of this age.
And this was the basic foundation of the whole crystallization of his being..

Monday, 30 November 2015

Heaven and Hell by Master Lin Chi



A Japanese king went to see Master Lin Chi. He touched the feet of the master and before he could say anything, Lin Chi said, “You idiot! You don’t know even manners.”

The king completely forgot for what he had come. He pulled out his sword, and Lin Chi laughed. He said, “You have forgotten your question. Now I remind you” — because the king had sent his prime minister before him to inform Lin Chi that he is coming and his question is, “What is hell and what is heaven?” Now, when the sword was just about to fall on his neck, Lin Chi said, “Wait a minute! This is the door of hell.”

The king was shocked. His hand stopped. He put back the sword in the sheath, and Lin Chi said, “That is the door of heaven. You had forgotten your question, but your prime minister told me. It was good that he told me before, otherwise you would have killed a poor man unnecessarily, and you would have suffered hell — because hell is not anywhere else but in your ego. When I said, `You idiot!’ what was the trouble? Why did you become so angry? Who was hurt? It is your ego that was hurt.”
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If you don’t have any ego, it doesn’t matter whether somebody says you are an idiot or somebody says you are a genius. It does not matter… they are their opinions. You know who you are — you don’t depend on other people’s opinions. Your ego depends. Your ego keeps you a slave of the society in which you live. Ordinarily people think that their ego is something very precious. It is nothing but their slavery.

A man becomes independent and free and individual only when he has dropped his ego, when he is just a silent being, without any idea of “I” — just a pure silence… THIS silence. And if in this silence you look inward, you will not find any “I,” any ego, any self, but just a pure space.
This pure space is your spirituality. This pure space is your enlightenment. This pure space is your ultimate ecstasy.

The ego is preventing everything. Ego is making you a beggar, while you are an emperor of a great empire. Of course, that empire does not belong to the outside world; it is in your own being, but its vastness is as big as the universe itself. Your ego is keeping you encaged, imprisoned. Don’t nourish it… and I am saying it because I know it is everybody’s possibility not to nourish the ego and to get out into the open sky. Nivedano, learn to laugh at your own ego. The moment you are gripped by your ego, relax and have a good laugh.

And don’t be worried… and I know you are crazy, you will not be worried what people think about you. But if you can laugh at your ego, that is the best way to kill it. Don’t be serious about your ego, because that is very nourishing food for the ego. That’s why all egoists are serious people.
The people who can laugh and enjoy and be playful are never egoists. It is on this particular point that I disagree with all the religions of the world. They have made people’s egos very strong by teaching them to be serious about life.

My effort is to erase the tremendous impact of millions of years of religious training. On the one hand they say, “Drop the ego,” and on the other hand they don’t allow the childlike playfulness…. On the one hand they go on insisting, “Drop the ego,” and on the other hand they don’t have any sense of humor.

No religion in the world has accepted a sense of humor as one of the fundamental religious qualities. I accept it, and I want that no religion can possibly exist in the future unless it has as a fundamental quality the sense of humor. A religion without laughter… a God who cannot laugh and dance and sing is not worthy of being God. Send him to hell!

A Great Thief




There once was a man who went to a computer trade show. Each day as he entered, the man told the guard at the door:
“I am a great thief, renowned for my feats of shoplifting. Be forewarned, for this trade show shall not escape me unplundered. ”
This speech disturbed the guard greatly, because there were millions of dollars of computer equipment inside, so he watched the man carefully. But the man merely wandered from booth to booth, humming quietly to himself.
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When the man left, the guard took him aside and searched his clothes, but nothing was to be found.
On the next day of the trade show, the man returned and chided the guard, saying, “I escaped with a vast booty yesterday, but today will be even better.” So the guard watched him ever more closely, but to no avail.
On the final day of the trade show, the guard could restrain his curiosity no longer. “Sir Thief,” he said, “I am so perplexed, I cannot live in peace. Please enlighten me. What is it that you are stealing?”
The man smiled. “I am stealing ideas,” he said.

Sunday, 29 November 2015

Tortoise and the Hare




Once upon a time a tortoise and a hare had an argument about who was faster. They decided to settle the argument with a race. They agreed on a route and started off the race.

The hare shot ahead and ran briskly for some time. Then seeing that he was far ahead of the tortoise, he thought he’d sit under a tree for some time and relax before continuing the race. He sat under the tree and soon fell asleep. The tortoise plodding on overtook him and soon finished the race, emerging as the undisputed champ.

The hare woke up and realized that he’d lost the race.

The moral- “Slow and steady wins the race. This is the version of the story that we’ve all grown up with.”

THE STORY DOESN’T END HERE

there are few more interesting things…..it continues as follows……

The hare was disappointed at losing the race and he did some soul-searching.

He realized that he’d lost the race only because he had been overconfident, careless and lax.

If he had not taken things for granted, there’s no way the tortoise could have beaten him. So he challenged the tortoise to another race.

The tortoise agreed. This time, the hare went all out and ran without stopping from start to finish. He won by several miles.

The moral – ” Fast and consistent will always beat the slow and steady. It’s good to be slow and steady; but it’s better to be fast and reliable.”
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THE STORY DOESN’T END HERE

The tortoise did some thinking this time, and realized that there’s no way it can beat the hare in a race the way it was currently formatted.

It thought for a while, and then challenged the hare to another race, but on a slightly different route. The hare agreed. They started off. In keeping with his self-made commitment to be consistently fast, the hare took off and ran at top speed until he came to a broad river. The finishing line was a couple of kilometres on the other side of the river. The hare sat there wondering what to do. In the meantime the tortoise trundled along, got into the river, swam to the opposite bank, continued walking and finished the race.

The moral – “First identify your core competency and then change the playing field to suit your core competency.”

THE STORY STILL HASN’T ENDED

The hare and the tortoise, by this time, had become pretty good friends and they did some thinking together.

Both realized that the last race could have been run much better. So they decided to do the last race again, but to run as a team this time.

They started off, and this time the hare carried the tortoise till the riverbank. There, the tortoise took over and swam across with the hare on his back. On the opposite bank, the hare again carried the tortoise and they reached the finishing line together. They both felt a greater sense of satisfaction than they’d felt earlier.

The moral – “It’s good to be individually brilliant and to have strong core competencies; but unless you’re able to work in a team and harness each other’s core competencies, you’ll always perform below par because there will always be situations at which you’ll do poorly and someone else does well.

Teamwork is mainly about situational leadership, letting the person with the relevant core competency for a situation take leadership.

Note that neither the hare nor the tortoise gave up after failures. The hare decided to work harder and put in more effort after his failure. The tortoise changed his strategy because he was already working as hard as he could.”

In life, when faced with failure,

sometimes it is appropriate to work harder and put in more effort.

Sometimes it is appropriate to change strategy and try something different.

And sometimes it is appropriate to do both.

The hare and the tortoise also learnt another vital lesson

When we stop competing against a rival and instead start competing against the situation, we perform far better.

Friday, 20 November 2015

Sudha Murthy on Infosys




It was in Pune that I met Narayan Murty through my friend Prasanna who is now the Wipro chief, who was also training in Telco. Most of the books that Prasanna lent me had Murty’s name on them, which meant that I had a preconceived image of the man. Contrary to expectation, Murty was shy,
bespectacled and an introvert. When he invited us for dinner, I was a bit taken aback as I thought the young man was making a very fast move. I refused since I was the only girl in the group. But Murty was relentless and we all decided to meet for dinner the next day at 7.30 p.m. at Green Fields
hotel on the Main Road, Pune. The next day I went there at 7 o clock since I had to go to the tailor near the hotel. And what do I see? Mr. Murty waiting in front of the hotel and it was only seven. Till today, Murty maintains that I had mentioned (consciously!) that I would be going to the tailor at 7
so that I could meet him…And I maintain that I did not say any such thing consciously or unconsciously because I did not think of Murty as anything other than a friend at that stage. We have agreed to disagree on this matter. Soon, we became friends.

Our conversations were filled with Murty’s experiences abroad and the books that he has read. My friends insisted that Murty was trying to impress me because he was interested in me. I kept denying it till one fine day, after dinner Murty said “ I want to tell you something”. I knew this was it. It was coming. He said, I am 5’4″ tall. I come from a lower middle class family. I can never become rich in my life and I can never give you any riches. You are beautiful, bright, intelligent and you can get anyone you want. But will you marry me? I asked Murty to give me some time for an answer. My father didn’t want me to marry a wannabe politician,(a communist at that) who didn’t have a steady job and wanted to build an orphanage… When I went to Hubli I told my parents about Murty and
his proposal. My mother was positive since Murty was also from Karnataka, seemed intelligent and comes from a good family. But my father asked: What’s his job, his salary, his qualifications etc? Murty was working as a research assistant and was earning less than me.He was willing to go dutch with me on our outings. My parents agreed to meet Murty in Pune on a particular day at 10 a. m sharp. Murty did not turn up. How can I trust a man to take care of my daughter if he cannot keep an appointment,asked my father.At 12 noon Murty turned up in a bright red shirt! He had gone on work to Bombay, was stuck in a traffic jam on the ghats, so he hired a taxi (though it was very
expensive for him) to meet his would-be father-in-law. Father was unimpressed. My father asked him what he wanted to become in life. Murty said he wanted to become a politician in the communist party and wanted to open an orphanage. My father gave his verdict. NO. I don’t want my daughter to marry somebody who wants to become a communist and then open an orphanage
when he himself didn’t have money to support his family. Ironically, today, I have opened many orphanages something which Murty wanted to do 25 years ago. By this time I realized I had developed a liking towards Murty which could only be termed as love. I wanted to marry Murty  because he is an honest man.  
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He proposed to me highlighting the negatives in his life. I promised my father that I will not marry Murty without his blessings though at the same time, I cannot marry anybody else. My father said he would agree if Murty promised to take up a steady job. But Murty refused saying he will
not do things in life because somebody wanted him to
. So, I was caught between the two most important people in my life. The stalemate continued for three years during which our courtship took us to every restaurant and cinema hall in Pune. In those days, Murty was always broke. Moreover, he
didn’t earn much to manage. Ironically today, he manages Infosys Technologies Ltd,one of the world’s most reputed companies. He always owed me money. We used to go for dinner and he would say, I don’t have money with me, you pay my share, I will return it to you later. For three years I
maintained a book on Murty’s debt to me. No, he never returned the money and I finally tore it up after my wedding. The amount was a little over Rs 4000. During this interim period Murty quit his job as research assistant and started his own software business. Now, I had to pay his salary too! Towards the late 70s computers were entering India in a big way. During the fag end of 1977 Murty decided to take up a job as General Manager at Patni Computers in Bombay. But before he joined the company he wanted to marry me since he was to go on training to the US after joining. My father gave in as he was happy Murty had a decent job, now.  

WE WERE MARRIED IN MURTY’S HOUSE IN BANGALORE ON FEBRUARY 10, 1978 WITH ONLY OUR TWO FAMILIES PRESENT. I GOT MY FIRST SILK SARI.THE WEDDING EXPENSES CAME TO ONLY RS 800 (US $ 17) WITH MURTY AND I POOLING IN RS 400 EACH. I went to the US with Murty after marriage. Murty encouraged me to see America on my own because I loved travelling. I toured America for three months on backpack and had interesting experiences which will remain fresh in my mind forever. Like the time when I was taken into custody by the New York police because they
thought I was an Italian trafficking drugs in Harlem. Or the time when I spent the night at the bottom of the Grand Canyon with an old couple. Murty panicked because he couldn’t get a response from my hotel room even at midnight. He thought I was either killed or kidnapped.

IN 1981 MURTY WANTED TO START INFOSYS. HE HAD A VISION AND ZERO CAPITAL… initially I was very apprehensive about Murty getting into business. We did not have any business background. Moreover we were living a comfortable life in Bombay with a regular pay check and I didn’t want to rock the boat. But Murty was passionate about creating good quality software. I decided to support him. Typical of Murty, he just had a dream and no money. So I gave him Rs 10,000 which I had saved for a rainy day, without his knowledge and told him, This is all I have. Take it. I give you three years sabbatical leave. I will take care of the financial needs of our house. You go and chase your dreams
without any worry. But you have only three years! Murty and his six colleagues started Infosys in 1981,with enormous interest and hard work. In 1982 I left Telco and moved to Pune with Murty.We bought a small house on loan which also became the Infosys office. I was a clerk-cum-cook-cum-programmer. I also took up a job as Senior Systems Analyst with Walchand group of Industries to support the house. In 1983 Infosys got their first client, MICO, in Bangalore. Murty moved to Bangalore and stayed with his mother while I went to Hubli to deliver my second child,
Rohan. Ten days after my son was born, Murty left for the US on project work. I saw him only after a year as I was unable to join Murty in the US because my son had infantile eczema, an allergy to vaccinations. So for more than a year I did not step outside our home for fear of my son contracting
an infection. It was only after Rohan got all his vaccinations that I came to Bangalore where we rented a small house in Jayanagar and rented another house as Infosys headquarters. My father presented Murty a scooter to commute. I once again became a cook, programmer, clerk, secretary, office assistant et al.Nandan Nilekani(MD of Infosys) and his wife Rohini stayed with us. While Rohini babysat my son, I wrote programmes for Infosys. There was no car, no phone,just two kids and a bunch of us working hard, juggling our lives and having fun while Infosys was taking shape. It was not only me but the wives of other partners too who gave their unstinted support.

We all knew that our men were trying to build something good. It was like a big joint family,taking care and looking out for one another. I still remember Sudha Gopalakrishna looking after my daughter Akshata with all care and love while Kumari Shibulal cooked for all of us. Murty made it very clear that it would either be me or him working at Infosys. Never the two of us together… I was involved with Infosys initially. Nandan Nilekani suggested I should be on the Board but Murty said he did not want a husband and wife team at Infosys. I was shocked since I had the relevant experience and technical qualifications. He said, Sudha if you want to work with Infosys, I
will withdraw, happily. I was pained to know that I will not be involved in the company my husband was building and that I would have to give up a job that I am qualified to do and love doing. It took me a couple of days to grasp the reason behind Murty’s request. I realised that to make Infosys a
success one had to give one’s 100 percent.One had to be focussed on it alone with no other distractions. If the two of us had to give 100 percent to Infosys then what would happen to our home and our children? One of us had to take care of our home while the other took care of Infosys. I opted to be a homemaker, after all Infosys was Murty’s dream.It was a big sacrifice but it was one that had to be made. Even today, Murty says,Sudha, I stepped on your career to make mine. You are responsible for my success. I might have given up my career for my husband’s sake. But that does not make me a doormat… Many think that I have been made the sacrificial lamb at Narayan Murty’s altar of success. A few women journalists have even accused me of setting a wrong example by giving up my dreams to make my husbands a reality. Is’nt freedom about living your life the way you want it? What is right for one person might be wrong for another. It is up to the individual to make a choice that is effective in her life.I feel that when a woman gives up her right to choose for herself is when she crosses over from being an individual to a doormat. Murty’s dreams encompassed not only himself but a generation of people.It was about founding something worthy, exemplary and honorable. It was about creation and distribution of wealth. His dreams were grander than my career plans, in all aspects. So, when I had to choose between Murty’s career and mine, I opted for what I thought was a right choice. We had a home and two little children. Measles, mumps, fractures, PTA meetings, wants and needs of growing children do not care much for grandiose dreams. They just needed to be attended to. Somebody had to take care of it all.Somebody had to stay back to create a home base that would be fertile for healthy growth, happiness, and more dreams to dream.I became that somebody willingly.I can confidently say that if I had had a dream like Infosys, Murty would have given me his unstinted support.The roles would have been reversed. We are not bound by the archaic rules of marriage.I cook for him but I don’t wait up to serve dinner like a traditional wife.So, he has no hassles about heating up the food and having his dinner.He does not intrude into my time especially when I am writing my novels.He does not interfere in my work at the Infosys Foundation and I don’t interfere with the running of Infosys. I teach Computer Science to MBA and MCA students at Christ college for a few hours every week and I earn around Rs 50,000 a year.I value this financial independence greatly though there is no need for me to pursue a teaching career. Murty respects that.I travel all over the world without Murty because he hates] travelling.We trust each other implicitly. We have another understanding too. While he earns the money, I spend it, mostly through the charity. Philanthropy is a profession and an art… The Infosys Foundation was born in 1997 with the sole objective of uplifting the less-privileged sections of society. IN THE PAST THREE YEARS WE HAVE BUILT HOSPITALS, ORPHANAGES, REHABILITATION CENTRES, SCHOOL BUILDINGS, SCIENCE CENTRES AND MORE THAN 3500 LIBRARIES. Our work is mainly in the rural areas amongst women and children.I am one of the trustees and our activities span six states including Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Andhra, Orissa, Chandigarh and Maharashtra.I travel to around 800 villages constantly. Infosys Foundation has a minimal staff of three trustees and three office members. We all work very hard to achieve our goals and that is the reason why Infosys Foundation has a distinct identity. Every year we donate around Rs 5-6 crore (Rs 50 – 60 million). We run Infosys Foundation the way Murty runs Infosys in a professional and scientific way. Philanthropy is a profession and an art. It can be used or misused. We slowly want to increase the donations and we dream of a time when Infosys Foundation could donate large amounts of money. Every year we receive more than 10,000 applications for donations. Everyday I receive more than 120 calls. Amongst these,there are those who genuinely need help and there are hood winkers too. I receive letters asking me to donate Rs five lakh to someone because five lakh is, like peanuts to Infosys. Some people write to us asking for free Infosys shares.Over the years I have learnt to differentiate the wheat from the chaff, though I still give a patient hearing to all the cases. Sometimes I feel I have lost the ability to trust people. I have become shrewder to avoid being conned. It saddens me to realise that even as a person is talking to me I try to analyse them: Has he come here for any donation? Why is he praising my work or enquiring about my health, does he want some money from me? Eight out of ten times I am right. They do want my money. But I feel bad for the other two whom I suspected. I think that is the price that I have to pay for the position that I am in now. The greatest difficulty in having money is teaching your children the value of it and trying to keep them on a straight line…. Bringing up children in a moneyed atmosphere is a difficult task.  

EVEN TODAY I THINK TWICE IF I HAVE TO SPEND RS 10 ON AN AUTO WHEN I CAN WALK UP TO MY HOUSE. I cannot expect my children to do the same. They have seen money from the time they were born. But we can lead by example. When they see Murty wash his own plate after eating and clean the two toilets in the house everyday they realise that no work is demeaning irrespective of how rich you are. I DON’T HAVE A MAID AT HOME BECAUSE I DON’T SEE THE NEED FOR ONE.When children see both parents working hard, living a simple life, most of the time they tend to follow. This doesn’t mean we expect our children to live an austere life. My children buy what they want and go where they want but they have to follow certain rules. They will have to show me a bill for whatever they buy.My daughter can buy five new outfits but she has to give away five old ones. My son can go out with his friends for lunch or dinner but if he wants to go to a five star hotel, we discourage it. Or we accompany him.So far my children haven’t given me any  heartbreak. They are good children. My eldest daughter is studying abroad, whereas my son is studying in Bangalore. They don’t use their father’s name in vain. If asked, they only say that his name is Murty and that he works for Infosys.They don’t want to be recognised and appreciated because of their father or me but for themselves.  

I DON’T FEEL GUILTY ABOUT HAVING MONEY FOR WE HAVE WORKED HARD FOR IT. BUT I DON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE FLAUNTING IT …IT IS A CONSCIOUS DECISION ON OUR PART TO LIVE A
SIMPLE, SO- CALLED MIDDLE CLASS LIFE. WE LIVE IN THE SAME TWO-BEDROOM, SPARSELY FURNISHED HOUSE BEFORE INFOSYS BECAME A SUCCESS.


Our only extravagance is buying books and CDs.MY HOUSE HAS NO LOCKERS FOR I HAVE NO JEWELS. I WEAR A STONE EARRING WHICH I BOUGHT IN BOMBAY FOR RS 100 . I don’t even wear my mangalsutra until I attend some family functions or I am with my mother-in-law. I am not fond of jewellery or saris. Five years ago, I went to Kashi where tradition demands that you give up something and I gave up shopping. Since then I haven’t bought myself a sari or gone shopping. It
is my friends who gift me with saris. Murty bought me a sari a long time ago. It was not to my taste and I told him to refrain from buying saris for me in the future.I am no good at selecting men’s clothes either. It is my daughter who does the shopping for us. I still have the same sofa at home
which my daughter wants to change. However, we have indulged ourselves with each one having their own music system and computer. I don’t carry a purse and neither does Murty most of the time. I do tell him to keep some small change with him but he doesn’t. I borrow money from my secretary or my driver if I need cash. They know my habit so they always carry extra cash with them. But I settle the accounts every evening.

MURTY AND I ARE VERY COMFORTABLE WITH OUR LIFESTYLE AND WE DON’T SEE THE NEED TO CHANGE IT NOW THAT WE HAVE MONEY. Murty and I are two opposites that complement each other… Murty is sensitive and romantic in his own way. He always gifts me books addressed to From Me to You. Or to the person I most admire etc. We both love books. We are both complete  opposites. I am an extrovert and he is an introvert. I love watching movies and listening to classical music. Murty loves listening to English classical music.I go out for movies with my students and secretary every other week. I am still young at heart. I really enjoyed watching “Kaho Na Pyaar Hai” and I am a Hrithik Roshan fan. It has been more than 20 years since Murty and I went for a movie. My daughter once gave us a surprise by booking tickets for “Titanic”. Since I had a prior engagement that day, Murty went for the movie with his secretary Pandu. I love travelling whereas Murty loves spending time at home. Friends come and go with the share prices… Even in my dreams, I did not expect Infosys to grow like the way it has. I don’t think even Murty envisioned this phenomenal success, at least not in 1981. After Infosys went public in 1993, we became what people would call as rich, moneyed people. I was shocked to see what was happening to Infosys and to us. Suddenly you see and hear about so much money. Your name and photo is splashed in the papers. People talk
about you. It was all new to me.

SUDDENLY I HAVE PEOPLE WALKING UP TO ME SAYING, OH, WE WERE SUCH GOOD FRIENDS, WE  HAD A MEAL 25 YEARS AGO.THEY CLAIM TO HAVE BEEN PRESENT AT OUR WEDDING (WHICH IS AN UTTER LIE BECAUSE ONLY MY FAMILY WAS PRESENT AT MY WEDDING). I DON’T EVEN KNOW ALL THESE PEOPLE WHO CLAIM TO KNOW MURTY AND ME SO WELL.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have true friends. I do have genuine friends, a handful, who have been with me for a very long time. My equation with these people has not changed and vice versa. I am also very close to Narayan Murty’s family, especially my sister-in-law Kamala Murty, a school  teacher, who is more of a dear friend to me. I have discovered that these are the few relationships  and friendships that don’t fluctuate depending on the price of Infosys shares. Have I lost my identity as a woman, in Murty’s shadow?… No. I might be Mrs Narayan Murty. I might be Akshata and  Rohan’s mother. I might be the trustee of Infosys Foundation.  

But I am still Sudha.. I play different roles like all women. That doesn’t mean we don’t have our own identity. Women have that extra quality of adaptability and learn to fit into different shoes. But we
are our own selves still.
And we have to exact our freedom by making the right choices in our lives, dictated by us and not by the world.
SUDHA MURTHY

Monday, 2 November 2015

Appro JRD by Sudha Murty



Sudha Murty* was livid when a job advertisement posted by a Tata company at the institution where she was completing her post graduation stated that ‘lady candidates need not apply’. She dashed off a postcard to JRD, protesting against the discrimination. It was the beginning of an association that would change her life in more ways than one

There are two photographs that hang on my office wall. Every day when I enter my office I look at them before starting my day. They are pictures of two old people. One is of a gentleman in a blue suit and other is a black-and-white image of a man with dreamy eyes and a white beard.

People have asked me if the people in the photographs are related to me. Some have even asked me, “Is this black-and-white photo that of a Sufi saint or a religious guru?” I smile and reply “No, nor are they related to me. These people made an impact on my life. I am grateful to them.” “Who are they?” “The man in the blue suit is Bharat Ratna JRD Tata and the black-and-white photo is of Jamsetji Tata.” “But why do you have them in your office?” “You can call it gratitude.”

Then, invariably, I have to tell the person the following story.

It was a long time ago. I was young and bright, bold and idealistic. I was in the final year of my master’s course in computer science at the Indian Institute of Science [IISc] in Bangalore, then known as the Tata Institute. Life was full of fun and joy. I did not know what helplessness or injustice meant.
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It was probably the April of 1974. Bangalore was getting warm and red gulmohars were blooming at the IISc campus. I was the only girl in my postgraduate department and was staying at the ladies’ hostel. Other girls were pursuing research in different departments of science. I was looking forward to going abroad to complete a doctorate in computer science. I had been offered scholarships from universities in the US. I had not thought of taking up a job in India.

One day, while on the way to my hostel from our lecture-hall complex, I saw an advertisement on the notice board. It was a standard job-requirement notice from the famous automobile company Telco [now Tata Motors]. It stated that the company required young, bright engineers, hardworking and with an excellent academic background, etc.

At the bottom was a small line: “Lady candidates need not apply.” I read it and was very upset. For the first time in my life I was up against gender discrimination.

Though I was not keen on taking up the job, I saw it as a challenge. I had done extremely well in academics, better than most of my male peers. Little did I know then that in real life academic excellence is not enough to be successful.

After reading the notice I went fuming to my room. I decided to inform the topmost person in Telco’s management about the injustice the company was perpetrating. I got a postcard and started to write, but there was a problem: I did not know who headed Telco. I thought it must be one of the Tatas. I knew JRD Tata was the head of the Tata Group; I had seen his pictures in newspapers (actually, Sumant Moolgaokar was the company’s chairman then).

I took the card, addressed it to JRD and started writing. To this day I remember clearly what I wrote. “The great Tatas have always been pioneers. They are the people who started the basic infrastructure industries in India, such as iron and steel, chemicals, textiles and locomotives. They have cared for higher education in India since 1900 and they were responsible for the establishment of the Indian Institute of Science. Fortunately, I study there. But I am surprised how a company such as Telco is discriminating on the basis of gender.”

I posted the letter and forgot about it. Less than 10 days later, I received a telegram stating that I had to appear for an interview at Telco’s Pune facility at the company’s expense. I was taken aback by the telegram. My hostel mates told me I should use the opportunity to go to Pune free of cost and buy them the famous Pune saris for cheap! I collected Rs 30 each from everyone who wanted a sari. When I look back, I feel like laughing at the reasons for my going, but back then they seemed good enough to make the trip.

It was my first visit to Pune and I immediately fell in love with the city. To this day it remains dear to me. I feel as much at home in Pune as I do in Hubli, my hometown. The place changed my life in so many ways.

As directed, I went to Telco’s Pimpri office for the interview. There were six people on the panel and I realised then that this was serious business. “This is the girl who wrote to JRD,” I heard somebody whisper as soon as I entered the room. By then I knew for sure that I would not get the job. That realisation abolished all fear from my mind, so I was rather cool while the interview was being conducted.

Even before the interview started, I reckoned the panel was biased, so I told them, rather impolitely, “I hope this is only a technical interview.” They were taken aback by my rudeness, and even today I am ashamed about my attitude.

The panel asked me technical questions and I answered all of them. Then an elderly gentleman with an affectionate voice told me, “Do you know why we said lady candidates need not apply? The reason is that we have never employed any ladies on the shop floor. This is not a co-ed college; this is a factory. When it comes to academics, you are a first ranker throughout. We appreciate that, but people like you should work in research laboratories.”

I was a young girl from small-town Hubli. My world had been a limited place. I did not know the ways of large corporate houses and their difficulties, so I answered, “But you must start somewhere, otherwise no woman will ever be able to work in your factories.”

Finally, after a long interview, I was told I had been successful. So this was what the future had in store for me. Never had I thought I would take up a job in Pune. I met a shy young man from Karnataka there, we became good friends and we got married.

It was only after joining Telco that I realised who JRD was: the uncrowned king of Indian industry. Now I was scared, but I did not get to meet him till I was transferred to Bombay. One day I had to show some reports to Mr Moolgaokar, our chairman, who we all knew as SM. I was in his office on the first floor of Bombay House [the Tata headquarters] when, suddenly, JRD walked in. That was the first time I saw ‘appro JRD’. Appro means ‘our’ in Gujarati. That was the affectionate term by which people at Bombay House called him.

I was feeling very nervous, remembering my postcard episode. SM introduced me nicely, “Jeh (that’s what his close associates called him), this young woman is an engineer and that too a postgraduate. She is the first woman to work on the Telco shop floor.” JRD looked at me. I was praying he would not ask me any questions about my interview (or the postcard that preceded it). Thankfully, he didn’t. Instead, he remarked. “It is nice that girls are getting into engineering in our country. By the way, what is your name?” “When I joined Telco I was Sudha Kulkarni, Sir,” I replied. “Now I am Sudha Murty.” He smiled that kindly smile and started a discussion with SM. As for me, I almost ran out of the room.

After that I used to see JRD on and off. He was the Tata Group chairman and I was merely an engineer. There was nothing that we had in common. I was in awe of him.

One day I was waiting for Murthy, my husband, to pick me up after office hours. To my surprise I saw JRD standing next to me. I did not know how to react. Yet again I started worrying about that postcard. Looking back, I realise JRD had forgotten about it. It must have been a small incident for him, but not so for me.

“Young lady, why are you here?” he asked. “Office time is over.” I said, “Sir, I’m waiting for my husband to come and pick me up.” JRD said, “It is getting dark and there’s no one in the corridor. I’ll wait with you till your husband comes.” I was quite used to waiting for Murthy, but having JRD waiting alongside made me extremely uncomfortable.

I was nervous. Out of the corner of my eye I looked at him. He wore a simple white pant and shirt. He was old, yet his face was glowing. There wasn’t any air of superiority about him. I was thinking, “Look at this person. He is a chairman, a well-respected man in our country and he is waiting for the sake of an ordinary employee.”

Then I saw Murthy and I rushed out. JRD called and said, “Young lady, tell your husband never to make his wife wait again.”

In 1982 I had to resign from my job at Telco. I was reluctant to go, but I really did not have a choice. I was coming down the steps of Bombay House after wrapping up my final settlement when I saw JRD coming up. He was absorbed in thought. I wanted to say goodbye to him, so I stopped. He saw me and paused.

Gently, he said, “So what are you doing, Mrs Kulkarni? (That was the way he always addressed me.) “Sir, I am leaving Telco.” “Where are you going?” he asked. “Pune, sir. My husband is starting a company called Infosys and I’m shifting to Pune.” “Oh! And what you will do when you are successful?” “Sir, I don’t know whether we will be successful.” “Never start with diffidence,” he advised me. “Always start with confidence. When you are successful you must give back to society. Society gives us so much; we must reciprocate. I wish you all the best.”

Then JRD continued walking up the stairs. I stood there for what seemed like a millennium. That was the last time I saw him alive.

Many years later I met Ratan Tata in the same Bombay House office, occupying the chair JRD once did. I told him of my many sweet memories of working with Telco. Later, he wrote to me, “It was nice hearing about Jeh from you. The sad part is that he’s not alive to see you today.”

I consider JRD a great man because, despite being an extremely busy person, he valued one postcard written by a young girl seeking justice. He must have received thousands of letters every day. He could have thrown mine away, but he didn’t do that. He respected the intentions of that unknown girl, who had neither influence nor money, and gave her an opportunity in his company. He did not merely give her a job; he changed her life and mindset forever.

Close to 50 per cent of the students in today’s engineering colleges are girls. And there are women on the shop floor in many industry segments. I see these changes and I think of JRD. If at all time stops and asks me what I want from life, I would say I wish JRD were alive today to see how the company we started has grown. He would have enjoyed it wholeheartedly.

My love and respect for the House of Tata remains undiminished by the passage of time. I always looked up to JRD. I saw him as a role model for his simplicity, his generosity, his kindness and the care he took of his employees. Those blue eyes always reminded me of the sky; they had the same vastness and munificence.

* Sudha Murty is the chairperson of the Infosys Foundation. She is involved in a number of social development initiatives and is also a widely published writer.