Necessary but not Sufficient

 It is difficult, nay impossible, to remain unmoved by the accounts of sexual misconduct outed in the last few days. As a woman leader and for a daughter who has just embarked on her career, I had to absorb and make sense of all that is being shared.

#MeToo is a powerful movement. More power to those brave enough to have come forward. A year after Harvey Weinstein was accused of being a sexual predator, women who speak out are taken more seriously and men who abuse are more likely to pay a price. At the cost of sounding cliched, though, with great power comes great responsibility. The conversation is about sexual harassment and respecting consent. It is not about naming and shaming. That can be a manner of addressing the behaviour but one has to get to the root and change the mindset.

My moment of epiphany was on reading a tweet by a senior women professional. She was reflecting on how we got us (women) through the door, to the table and to being taken seriously. At the same time she rued not having done enough for the basic right to freedom and decency.

That, seriously got me to look back at my own career in what has all through been in traditional male bastions. Moreover, in a career in sales and marketing, I have toured extensively through Indian states and internationally. However, it was different in "our times". 

Firstly, it was our conditioning - you are accountable for your safety. So one traveled, worked, checked into a hotel and stayed put in the room. The one odd time you tried to have a drink at the bar (leave alone hotels but also in your Club) you ended up being propositioned. Over the years, you realised that you have been to great cities but hesitated to discover its culinary delights or many sights as you chose to be "careful".

What is even more important is that you sacrificed on networking and will never know whether it resulted in missed opportunities.

Secondly, as a real minority you did not present a threat. This is borne out by the fact that in areas like education, entertainment and journalism (where there has been a larger number of women for years) is where we are seeing the momentum on #MeToo. 

Thirdly, it was somewhat difficult to connect in the pre-mobile age. Permission had to be sought in person, or through the hotel house-phones. Landlines did not provide direct access to an individual. When technology changed, the need to seek permission could not be controlled.

Times have changed. 

As more women opt for a career and many despite family pressures, they will insist on equal opportunities. Not just on the job but the right to be out in public places, be seen and heard outside the confines of an office space or a single organisation. They will also have their right to unwind after a day's work in a place and in a manner that does not restrict freedom. The same that is a given for their male colleagues.

An issue that cannot be overlooked is the threat perception. The exercise of power is a game. Sexual overtures send the message that you (the lady) are weak and need me to help or promote your career. You marginalise her performance by hinting she needs your support. Further, it is not uncommon to brag about achievements and many times a particular lady gets branded as "available". Sexism is a larger bane. The men who wait on the fringes, do not predate but reserve a right to be judgmental. So, she "slept her way to the top" is a comment you may easily spread without any knowledge of the person.

It is not, therefore about controlling behaviour, it is about changing the mindset which is not restricted to men alone. The assumption that if she is out of home, opting to drink, going single to a party or staying back late -she is "available".  Naming, I fear might superficially mask behaviour but at the same time open up a host of problems for working women. As has been seen in the case of the 'moms unite for Kavanaugh', there will be many irate wives, mothers and the boy's club who would unite to berate and victimise. Also, such high profile failures will be touted as examples of sexual harassment being used as a weapon. The superficial contriteness of those called out  is threatening to trivialise the issue.

There is already intense debate on whether consensual relationship between people in a reporting relationship falls within purview of workplace harassment. An actress is contesting the sexual harassment claim made by another.  Many are opting to remain silent, while at the other end of the spectrum with television joining the fray there is much noise. Then again, one must reflect that between the Weinstein movement and the current #MeTooIndia there has been almost a year of silence. Knowing the fickle social media, the forthcoming elections might anytime divert all attention. 

Men's predation of women, risks becoming yet one more battlefield. In this battle the advantage as of now is to the men - by their sheer numbers in positions of power. It is the Sun Tzu moment for women, to step back, unite and strategise. 

The Hills Are Alive - A Holiday Offline

                          "The hills are alive with the Sound of Music
                           My heart wants to sing every song it hears"

This opening number from The Sound Of Music is a particular favourite in our family. 

My son was in grade l , when we bought this CD. Every afternoon, he would return from school, listen to this song and switch off just before the nuns made their entry. Once, a close friend borrowed the CD. My son would gently remind us to bring it back but as tends to happen in our busy lives, we fail to estimate the joy from little things for our dear ones. Anyways, there came a day when our friend hailed us out on the road, rolled down the glass of his car and thrust the CD into our car. The next day, my son sat down to watch the song, opened the CD cover, only to find it was empty! The five year old mentioned very solemnly to my husband that evening, "Papa, Bappa Uncle liked the movie so much, that he kept the CD for himself". There was wise understanding in his eyes. After all who could resist the warm story of love, family and endurance and those very hummable, foot-tapping numbers.

My boy is a young adult, today and my daughter is married. After many years, the five of us decided to take a break in the hills. The place was Wales but the rolling hills were just like in the movie. "Are you sure you can do it, Mama?". My daughter asked me this question for the third or fourth time before going ahead with the bookings. The concern was Cwmwr Uchaf (rough Welsh translation being farmhouse at the top) where we had booked ourselves had no internet connectivity - poor signal, no wifi. The children keep teasing me about my tweeting and instagram. This also entailed being cut-off from contact with the office. I decided to ignore that funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and endorsed the plan.

glow across the hills

We took the long winding road up and arrived at our cottage a little past seven in the evening. Daylight stays long in August and there were still a couple of hours before the hills got engulfed in the dark. There was this mild glow across the hills and alternating hues of green and gold. The sheep had done their grazing for the day and some were hanging around the fence, observing us lazily. The only sound you could hear for miles was an occasional bleat or moo.

We dropped our bags and went for a short stroll. My husband stayed back to prepare dinner. We had this fully furnished cottage with all amenities to ourselves - just that. No more souls around. Later that evening, we explored the house, figuring out what to do for the next five days. 

The weekend, my son-in-law's parents joined us. There was a grand barbecue planned for the evening and they arrived with a variety of marinated meats. Also, lots of Perroni. The day was spent in intermittent walks, setting up the barbecue pit, lazily chatting as we sat overlooking the hills and doing some good justice to the Perroni. While the sun went down at 10 pm and we all went indoors, we were still not sleepy. The children pulled out a scrabble board (the place had a wide selection of books and board games. Also, a baby piano, which I insisted on pounding industriously with two fingers much to the irritation of others). The moment took us back many years (count lost) when carrom and scrabble used to be our foursome evening engagement. 

The evening was nippy, offering us a good excuse to light the fireplace. I will always remember that family evening, huddled around the fireplace, chatting, playing. The warm glow about us, for sure, didn't have to do with just the fire.

Ploughman's platter

The next day was Monday. Ah-ha, the weekend was over! Back in India, office was well into midday while I was just waking up. My son-in-law's parents were driving back into a new working week. I must admit to a vague discomfort and feeling of being cut-off. Maybe, honestly, some anxiety and moments of boredom. We decided to just stay back in the cottage and laze. There was a good bit of leftovers from the previous barbecue and little reason to cook. My daughter, always innovating, laid out a Ploughman's platter which would have done any star rated pub proud! 

In the evening, my son and I sat up till way past midnight. We chatted about uni, his room mates, his course and career options, my work and our common bonding point - exercise and fitness. He has been helping me manage my diabetes and between teasing and gently chiding, manages to keep me on track. A chat, which for a year had happened only on Skype. What was special (and very different from Skype) was not the moments we engaged in active conversation but more the silence in between. The sense of being close to someone you love. Letting the mind flit gently over the many subjects you want to discuss. Picking and dropping these, basis our mutual interest to pursue further. Time stood still. We were in no hurry to finish the conversation and retired at a certain point, knowing there would be more time the next day.

Tuesday morning was a little more difficult. I waited impatiently for the family to get ready. We were doing a day visit to Hay-on-Wye, a quaint book village. This was to be another really long drive. My immediate interest was to take a peek at my mailbox and get up-to-speed with happenings back in the office. That evening, as we drove back, a quietness engulfed all of us. Not of a peaceful kind but a little impatience to get back to the cottage and some bickering as the cramped feeling inside the car began to drag down our mood. Just at that moment, we took a certain turn in the hills and noticed the sun going down behind a cottage. We still had a couple of hours drive ahead of us but I insisted we stop to take a few pictures. We piled out of the car, stretched and watched in silence as the sky took on varied hues. The sun was setting on another day and our hearts filled with a sense of peace and the need to treasure these moments of togetherness.

I write here, not a day to day travelogue. It was necessary to give a little backdrop before I get back to my purpose. To share with you that feeling, being "offline". What is a holiday if you are not posting pictures on Facebook and checking out the "likes". The kind of holiday that we are getting increasingly used to. The next few days, for me, settled into a routine of one visit a day to the nearest town, where I could access the internet, while the family picked up the provisions for the day. I connected on video call with my colleagues, handled some urgent mail and then returned to a device-less day.

rainbow

We shared many sunsets for the rest of our holiday. We noticed that the sheep in Scotland have black faces, spotted two Llamas (unexpectedly in a farmhouse we drove by) and came within hand shaking distance of yaks. We picked up fleece and sat by little brooks with our toes dipped in icy cold water. We stopped by lakes and lochs and saw purple heather covered hills. Scrabble and carrom, preparing beautiful meals, long walks and standing by in awe to watch a full arch of a rainbow - touching the Earth at both ends! Of course, we returned to full connectivity for the rest of the trip but I noticed that I had comfortably settled down to the new routine of "connecting" two to three times, daily. 

I have been back for nearly three weeks now. In the evenings, I browse through some lovely photographs and have been posting a thing or two. My exercise and reading has settled into a better disciplined routine. There is greater consciousness about the quality of engagement on social media, with a shift from opinions to knowledge developing feeds. There is actually a physical change as I am carrying my phone, itself, a lot less. What used to be in my hand or pocket, is today waiting for me on a desk or cabinet. 

Capturing the spirit of the English countryside and taking a little liberty with one of my favourite poems, I would say :

                       For the present, when on my couch I lie, 

                        In vacant or in pensive mood, 

                        There is more that fills the inward eye 

                         And less do I seek out my phone.

The last word on Rafale

Taking a purely marketer's view on the Rafale communication battle, I'd say "Advantage BJP" for three good reasons :

The first mover advantage :

Be the first one out there. BJP took the lead through an innovative piece of communication to tell its version of the Rafale deal. In a country where many probably don't even know how to pronounce the name (I have faced the marketing challenge of getting channel members, influencers and consumers to pronounce the cement brand Lafarge) a slick video, clear diction, comfortable delivery by a controversial (in this context) actor is sure shot for eyeballs. 

Simple message :

While the first impression is why this bizarre lock analogy, on reflection it does make a lot of sense. Power deals, French Company (equally challenging to pronounce Dassault), VVIPs are difficult to relate to. Put it in the context of the tension, bickering and backbiting of a residential society and you have a picture everyone is somewhat familiar with. What, over and above, can be more symbolic than a lock for security? The first principle of communication is clearly visible; keep the message simple and and comprehensible.

Instigate reaction from competition :

This is where you round off the advantage by putting your competition on the slippery ground of a rebuttal. As the claims have already been made, these cannot be ignored. Do you breakaway and tell your own version or do you take on the argument in the manner of a high-school debate? Rebuttals only reinforce the original message and sound like beefing about, in contrast. While the original had a slick reference to potato factory (must say Pallavi's ravishing smile lent additional finesse) , the rebuttal goes OTT with many words like mitr, pakora seller, gutter gas and chowkidar. A clear error in this occasion was to rush in with the 'real explanation'. The real story should have been executed in a fresh setting and without reference to the first film.

This is clearly not the last of what we shall see and hear on the subject. Whatever follows, though, will only enhance advantage to the first mover.

Put it in the Oven

It was a summer afternoon. My friend Meena & I were comfortably ensconced in her room, just back from college and talking incessantly. All that chatter, so important then but so little of which one remembers, today. Meena's mother must have known this or she must have been a tad fed up of our afternoon routine, while she worked hard to run a popular cookery class from home. "You lazy girls join my class and learn a new skill. Madhu, I will have a word with your mother", she chided us. An afternoon I have looked back upon, fondly and thanked Aunty in the quiet corner of my heart.

My story, however, goes back a few years prior to that afternoon. It is so important to start on a learning journey with the right words of appreciation and encouragement. My first attempt at baking was in school in our vocational training class. Our Principal, a distinguished Welsh lady looked at the texture of my cake and called it perfect. You have to have a "light hand for mixing the ingredients", or something similar, she said. Her lovely smile, twinkling eyes, have stayed tucked away in some corner of my mind.

It was from Aunty, though, I learnt every type of traditional cakes - Victorian sponges, Swiss rolls, meadlines, éclairs, fruit cakes, gateaux, shortbreads and more. When she had shared all that she knew, she put us in for a professional training on icings - royal, butter, glaze, fondant & marzipan.

Training was one part of it - I learnt. Encouragement, was what made it stick. Rustling through my academic documents, a few days back, I came across this neat handwritten note (embedded picture) from Dad’s colleague. "....very frankly the cake, apart from being very delicious in taste, it could be compared to ones made by professionals like Macronell’s.....". No wonder this very important certificate has been gently saved over the years.

Another time Dad was making a Bombay to Calcutta tour and I baked a cake for my Aunt's family. The praise appeared a little disproportionate for my efforts, even after discounting for doting relatives. On prodding Dad, he mentioned that the icing had got messed up in transit. He handed it over to the Chef at Oberoi's who obviously did more than a touch-up!

Friends’ birthdays, sister's wedding anniversary, a thank you to Mom's doctor after an operation, house parties, calling at a friend’s, whatever the occasion, I baked. My interest got further sealed with some early orders. Particularly, in those days, a swiss roll was not common. I used to keep the earnings (a princely Rs 25/- for an eight inch roll), the ingredients and electricity charged to parents.

Then came the children's birthdays. When I look back at the photos of my nephew's first birthday, the cakes sure look amateur. As the family extended, birthdays and anniversaries helped me perfect the art. However, somewhere, along the journey, the work and travel pressures slowly relegated this interest to the background. We turned towards bought out cakes, as I rushed in and out of the city on multiple sales tours. One year, probably on my daughter’s 12^th birthday, she refused to have a cake ordered out and that became a turning point. A cricket bat, Noddy or Spiderman for my son and dainty Barbie doll dresses to jewel boxes for my daughter; I returned to baking birthday cakes.

The daughter is a perfectionist

There comes in life moments of deep stress, abject boredom and career plateaus. Baking has helped me to navigate through such times. Then there is the satisfaction of inspiring my daughter to follow in my footsteps, those many mother-daughter things that hold special memories. Like Aunty, I too pushed her to train from a professional. A keen learner, in fact, a perfectionist, she knows many more tricks than I do now. Though the miles separate us, this is one thing we share over WhatsApp photographs and exchanged recipes.

 

Today, we are empty nesters and I read cakes as calories! Life, though, has made a full circle to house parties and friends’ birthdays and anniversaries. I specialize a little, these days in low calorie cakes and dessert gateaux.

There is a lot of joy in such gifting!

Giving Salesmen their daily read

The other day our CEO spoke to one of our sales team members and urged him to be an 'inspirational leader'. A senior member in the team, my colleague reached out to me to help him understand the what and the how of turning inspirational. I urged him to look back on his career and identify the seniors who had inspired him. His response " the boss who chatted with me about many things but never found it necessary to tell me how to do the job", set me thinking.

Salesmen are put through many formal training programs. These encompass time management, goal setting, effective habits, selling skills, product training and more. Good formal principles and important for development. What is missed out though, is that engaging with customers requires knowledge over and above the product and the selling skills.This, in turn requires a lot of reading, being actively curious and gathering knowledge from different fields. Sadly, it is only an exceptional salesman who makes the effort to read. With the current disruptive pace of development, this is a matter of greater worry.

Having been an itinerant salesman, I relate with this. The sheer exhaustion of travel, wrong kind of food and also at the wrong times, the pressures on one's time from the family and a few more good reasons to put off that daily reading.

Observing many salesmen and their supervisors and senior bosses, though, I found that salesmen are quick to learn by role modelling. A wealth of experience is exchanged during sales calls. This, then, becomes something like a game of chance. How does one find a boss with good reading habits, an ability to share this knowledge over a cup of tea or as is more often a glass of whisky and who treats you like a mentee and not an errant student? A boss who has more than targets and numbers on his mind and can in an un-harried manner stop to share that inspirational story or experience that educates without the boredom of formal learning.

Working with and studying many salesmen I have also, sadly, seen many bad habits perpetrated. Inhibiting ego, misplaced sarcasm, brusqely interrupting the customer, indifferent and one-sided pitches are also picked up consciously or sub- consciously. Further, many good salesmen get promoted to being bad bosses, when the learning cycle totally collapses.

A salesman's read should be able to create that ambience of a fireside chat. One should be able to smell the aroma of a favourite tipple or cuppa chai listening to stories. Stories that inspire, provide fresh insights to satisfy customers, excel in one's profession and emerge as better leaders.

Case Study published in Strategic Marketing - Economic Times Brand Equity

A to Z Work Travelogue : Carefree in Colombo

"Mita, when you firm up your plans, do make sure you keep a day for Kandy". That was my good friend and colleague, Bandara, from Colombo. His ever smiling face would only be punctuated by a spontaneous guffaw but more about that and his famous quips, later in this piece.

In those days, with both my children under 10 years, I followed a simple formula of first flight out and last flight in, trying to pack all in a day's work. International tours were different and some destinations I had to necessarily put in an extra day or two, given the flight frequency. Colombo, by that measure was not too bad. I planned the tour over three days. We had our office there and I was visiting more for a strategic partnership between two group companies and was not bogged down with the pressures of customer visits and negotiations. 

Top right - an aerial view of Kandy Lake

Hanging on the wall, in prominent view, was a framed degree of law. Bandara quipped, it was to remind visiting overseas Bosses that he had an alternative profession. Our conversation began with the Kandy visit and he summarily brushed aside any suggestion that it would not be possible. "Let us focus on what work we need to get done, work late and squeeze out a half day for your visit".

Wattalappa
 

This settled, next on the agenda was dinner The fact that I loved seafood was a very important detail in my favour. This was further sealed when I asked for Wattalappa for dessert. Memories of that evening at Beach Wadiya are slightly fading now, but for the smiling faces of my host and hostess. "Every man accepts his wife as the Minister of Home Affairs. I give her the formal title", quipped Bandara, as he introduced me to his wife, Mantri.

The first impressions of Colombo are the different drape of the saree and either gently smiling or inscrutable faces - never a frown. Despite being a bustling metro, it retains the charm of a beach town. On that first visit, I covered a fair number of dealer counters traversing winding roads, lined on both sides by single storey houses with a fair green cover. One particularly long stretch between two counters, I figured was also a detour as the sales manager had a personal errand! Such is the gentle pace of life and work, as I witnessed in Colombo.

I made three more visits; the last one a lovely holiday when we stayed at the Colombo Swimming Club (featured in my blog Club-a-Holiday). In between, we had a dealer conference and returning to the city after a ten year gap one saw the normal progression of freeways and better connectivity to the airport. Today, we do have Noritake outlets in India but not the variety and definitely not the almost 40% lower prices. Tea is celebrated as a priced tourism offer and you can pick up some lovely souvenirs of tea pouches housed in tiny copper kettles to gilted china elephants or cups. Equally interesting are the wooden masks. 

If you care for the local flavour, take a bus to the fresh foods market and pick up some dry semi-sambol spice powder,cloves, cardamom and mace. There is a very good chance that an apparently helpful stranger outside your hotel or a three-wheeler taxi, will take you to a gems outlet where equally smiling and persistent salesmen will try to sell you gemstone. Just look interested and remember to wear your smile, even if you are not interested in making a purchase. A dealer from Motihari, grumbled about the long travel time to Colombo with two transit stops but then grinned and thanked me for his bargain buy - a yellow sapphire.

Finally, a word for the local cuisine. A Sri Lankan's pride in their local dishes is unmistakable. For a non-vegetarian it is a difficult choice between seafood and mutton ishtew with hoppers. Seafood is not just about lobsters and crabs. There is a wide variety of fish, particularly the cuttlefish. The Wattalappa is probably a colonial legacy, a kind of caramel custard made with coconut milk.

Sun, scenic, seafood and smiles would sum up my Colombo memories.