Making Gossip an Art

 “He had a way of fishing for information – he’d throw out something he’d heard, casually looking for confirmation or further details while implying that he already knew the facts.”

These lines from Rajat Gupta's autobiography caught my attention. An over garrulous and attention grabbing gossip can be a put-off. Rarely do you come across the skill mentioned above. Yet, I have seen this in the workplace pass off in the garb of "seeking feedback".

A nonchalant remark on somebody’s character or fishing out the details on an incident where one was not present. The trick lies in never dwelling too long on the discussion point or showing too much interest in going into the details. Pick up and store, retrieve on demand. Never, a “tell me more” as that would put the narrator on guard. This rests on an understanding of the human psyche and need to be clairvoyant. Tell a person “I heard so and so” and leave her to join in the dots. Then take that half-processed information for collaboration to others.

The accompanying body language is also important. Avoid eye-contact, if possible, appear engaged in some other activity (mobile is a good prop in these days), and appear generally indifferent. One has to be very adept at dodging these hooks.

Despite the age old adage, "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all"; to gossip is human. In any formal organizational program on communications skills they teach you the importance of informal communication or the grapevine. As we read in Gupta's book, Rajaratnam developed the skill to a fine point of being able to make (a lot of) money off what he heard. He is believed to have said that, "his best ideas came from frequent visits with the companies in which he invested and from conversations with executives who invested in his funds" (source: Wiki).

Social and psychological studies actually put up a case in favour of gossip. It is believed to stave off loneliness, facilitate bonding and closeness and as a form of entertainment, release tension. Most gossip, again, is just plain boring and not salacious. It is equally true, though, that gossip is even less positive or informative.

In choosing this subject, I do not plan to pontificate on the perils of gossip, nor recommend it as a survival skill. I leave it to the judgement of the Reader, gently reminding him or her, "be careful who you vent to. A listening ear can also be a running mouth"

The Dining Table

 

“Memories are made when gathered around the table” – Unknown

“Families that eat together, stay together” – Unknown

 

With the children settled in the UK, we have fallen into a routine of summer holidays. There is a great joy, between my husband and me, in just the planning. Every summer we return to plan for the next holiday. At the same time, given the nature of our work, there is always this nervousness about last-minute cancellations or rescheduling.

Last summer was a little different. Just two weeks prior to travel, I needed to be hospitalized due to some excruciating pain. What added to our worries is that while the pain persisted, I was discharged with an uncertain diagnosis. Should one take the long 14 hours flight and go so many miles away from home, was the question. The smart thing to do given our lifestyle is selecting the right family physician. This is something we did over a decade back. Our family GP’s favorite statement is “surely you will go on holiday. We shall duly equip you with a jhola (bag) of medicines. That’s why I am here”!

The children had been planning a road-trip but immediately adjusted to the new situation and changed plans. We promised ourselves a lot of family time, with a one-off visit to London. I have always been pampered by a husband who enjoys dishing up meals – from the fancy to the regular daily chore. I knew for sure that this had rubbed off on my daughter but must take the credit for initiating her, first, into baking. Luckily the son-in-law shares this passion, but more about that later.

The absolute surprise in this tour was my son. He used to send me an occasional slow-cooked lamb curry or some fried fish photographs of dinner that he had cooked but that he had imbibed the ‘spirit of homecooked’ was the discovery for me. After a day tour to Buxton (a spa town close to Manchester with its highpoint being the Poole’s Cavern, an extensive limestone cave with stalagmites and stalactites), I returned exhausted and fell into a deep slumber. Waking up about ten in the evening, I figured that the father and son were waiting to go out for dinner. We were in Manchester and staying at an Airbnb. 

On a weekday, you may very well catch a glass of whiskey or wine at a pub or restaurant, at that hour, but not food. After checking out a couple of nearby places, I suggested that we grab some pre-cooked at the convenience store and return to our home-stay. My son said, “what rubbish! Let me make you a Spaghetti Carbonara”. We picked up the provisions and returned. He insisted that we relax with a drink, while he chatted with us and effortlessly turned out the dinner.

We had gone to Manchester for his graduation ceremony and a couple of days after this dinner, moved towards my daughter’s. She had prepared for our visit with attention to every detail in our room. An uber-comfortable bed overlooking her planned and affectionately nurtured garden. I was still coping with the pain and announced that wild horses would not drag me out from her home.

Thereafter began our very own week of Masterchef evenings. Food is not just about eating, it is a ritual. In my previous tours to countries as far removed as Japan or Armenia, this ritual began around the table and, fairly, early in the evening. Either, we, colleagues (Japan), or my distributor and his entire family (Armenia) would sit down at the table. Food and wine, well paired, would be continuously served as we discussed the politics of the country, matters of business, heard the children’s poetry, shared jokes, and laughed – a lot!

Such were our summer evenings. The delight, additionally, is the long summer evenings in the UK. We looked at options such as making our meals at the table. So, a hotpot or a barbeque was about sitting out on the lawns and chatting while the batches of meats and greens either boiled slowly or were roasted to perfection.

An Abbott Pharmaceuticals survey showed that the one thing that makes Indians feel most fulfilled in the family. And, the one loved icon of family unity, the shared meal, is the source of numerous benefits. In my early childhood, it was at the table that we sisters sought permission for out-of-station school tours, my elder sister checked out how well I was prepared for my exams (typically ended in my Mother pushing me to after-dinner study-time) discussed books we were reading and caught up on the latest from my father’s official tours.

A homecooked meal, they say, is a labor of love. Particularly, when you are making pasta from the scratch. Here I digress a little to touch upon the very important role a spouse plays in supporting gender diversity. My daughter, fortunately, is lucky like me. In fact, theirs is a good partnership in the shared hobby of cooking together. As parents, we watched affectionately the day the young couple decided to give us an all-Italian meal. Beetroot pasta, pulled pork and pepperoni pizzas meant frenetic action and heavenly aroma. Dough flying in the air, the red pasta strips rolling out of the pasta-maker, three-cheeses being grated or sliced, pulling apart the pork shoulder, and no rationing of the pepperoni!

That night we sat out on the lawns and watched the lunar eclipse. As the earth’s shadow partially engulfed the moon, a quietness set in. The quietness of confidence, shared love, togetherness, family time; those moments when silence is its own conversation! 

Hung-curd Fun (Lockdown cooking)

After a short struggle over working-from-home, life settled down to a good pace. The sweet shops were closed during the initial weeks but one couldn’t ‘lockdown’ the sweet tooth! In the initial days, one went back to the tried and tested recipes – custards, puddings, crème caramel, and cakes.

The traditional shrikhand

Dairy products being an essential commodity, together with our Amul milk we were getting the Amul curd. Suddenly we realized that the curd packs were piling and one odd afternoon I hung out a pack to drain the whey. The first time it was the regular cardamom flavoured shrikhand. This makes a nice and mildly chilled dessert for a summer evening. The only catch is that it is not versatile enough to go well with a Chinese or a Continental meal. Growing up in Bombay meant a childhood of many bought out or homemade shrikhand. In my first sales job, which entailed a good bit of travel, the standard dessert at our company guest house used to be the Amul shrikhand.



The curd packets set in my mind (pun intended). Each morning as my hubby planned dinner, my mind dwelt on possible hung-curd dessert variety. The cues were picked up from regular shrikhand or its fruity and most popular mango variant. The outcome was from indulgent to healthy.

 Alphonso - good rich colour and flavour

Himsagar - I was satisfied with the dressing.

Aam shrikhand was the obvious choice when a friend sent across the season’s Alphonso. While we did try a version with our very own Himsagar – the richness of colour, texture and flavour of the former remained unmatched. Once again it brought back memories of a Bombay girl spending her summer vacations in Calcutta. There would invariably be the regular teasing from the Uncles and cousins about which was the better mango. As a little girl I would get very upset, arguing a strong case in favour of the Alphonso and being ragged and outnumbered hopelessly. Now I am older and wiser and keep my beliefs to myself.



When there were a few slices of pineapple leftover after making the pineapple upside-down cake, these found its way into a black raisin and pineapple yoghurt dessert. This is the first time that I tried folding in some pineapple bits into the dish, giving it an almost pudding-like texture. Pineapple and yoghurt goes very well as anyone who has made or tasted a pineapple raita would know.

The pineapple variant would pass off as a pudding, any day!

The star of the series, however, was the apple-cinnamon bowl. The apples were grated and lightly stewed in a brown sugar syrup, with a dash of Sri Lankan cinnamon. This was blended into the hung-curd and a handful of black raisins were added for that perfect accompaniment to a Continental pie. 

As the days went by and lockdown got extended, one looked aghast at the slowly growing girth. Meals were more carefully planned with an eye on the calorie counter. Honey appeared on the breakfast table. It made me innovate that evening. I soaked some finely chopped walnuts and raisins in warm honey and blended this into the hung-curd. Some extra honey topping and a little more on the side to add as per taste absolutely did the trick!

The healthy honey-nut bowl

Every home must have faced a situation of over-ripe bananas. The internet was full of solutions from cakes to caramelized bananas and bread. Here, I was bananas over hung-curd and so the home got an innovative spin on the fruit. The good part about this dessert is that it has a body and you can decorate it to your liking with sliced fruits.

Now, one is back in the office and I have a dessert solution that is simple, healthy, versatile and actually very tasty.

#lockdowncooking #desserts #innovativedesserts #puddings #chilleddesserts

Step at a Time

Dad was about 55 years of age, when he woke up one morning and figured he was having vertigo. The family doctor was summoned and he was diagnosed with high blood pressure. The doctor understandably recommended rest, apart from medication. Dad had to call up the office and excuse himself from work. He didn’t like it – at all!

That day defined two things about me and my life. I turned out to be a workaholic and a regular at Yoga. So, where does yoga fit in this story?

A somewhat medication and rest fortified father, soon after the incident, took off for a weeklong program at The Yoga Institute, Santacruz, Bombay. He returned, armed with a dozen books and immediately enrolled for some evening classes at a nearby yoga school. My mother, his partner for life, fell in-step. There can be nothing like a shared passion between couples. The home slowly began to represent a yoga school with books, posters and my parents challenging their aging bodies and each other into various contortions. I was asked to check the correctness of the postures from the reference books. I was sixteen, finding all this somewhat easier and wanting to show-off. I started self-training.

My Teacher - a well-thumbed copy and companion

That’s where my journey began. Apart from my parents, I had my teacher – Sitadevi Yogendra (Yoga – Physical Education for Women). Through two late pregnancies, frequent travel related interruptions, plain laziness and a few times just outgrowing the interest for other new pursuits; I left yoga every once-in-a-while, but yoga didn’t leave me. That, I believe leaves me rightfully qualified to reflect upon some good reasons to do yoga.

A little tongue-in-cheek; if you have managed, by eight in the morning, to balance on one leg (ekapadasana), to lift your body on your shoulders (sarvanangasana) or bend over like a plough (halasana), you simply have to feel braver at facing the world. Following this if you are in a meeting and being mansplained you look the concerned man directly in the eye and silently tell yourself “poor man, he cannot do the ekapadasana”.  Believe me, it will bring you back to the table to dominate the discussions or help you to pass off the bloviate bits as too irrelevant to tackle. 

On a more serious note, if you have worried about worrying, experimented with meditation and not quite found your rhythm, even a mild form of yoga is a good start. Simple movements, with balanced breathing and the very process of counting while inhaling, exhaling or holding your breath engages the mind. I have found it easier to adapt to this process than try other forms of meditation that require concentrating on the breath itself.

As we went into lockdown, one of my first thoughts was stretching (pun unintended) myself a little more in my yoga exercises. Many developments on the personal and professional fronts and a little health triggered interruption, last year, found me struggling to get back into my routine. I decided to do just ‘one extra’ Suryanamaskara, each day. Yesterday, I touched ten. I have to take a decision whether to keep going till twenty-one or stabilize here, so that even when work resumes, I continue at it.

A couple of years back, I have also started a ‘walk at home’ routine. Brisk, a tad bit of cardio and some sweat is a good transition. These are simple steps and easy ten to fifteen-minute routines that one can follow on the net. My lockdown-leadership advice for the first couple of days was shooting off these links to my colleagues. My sister and one colleague have taken this up. Much encouraged, I am reaching out to all of you through this blog.

After all, healthy living can only begin with that first step!

The 21-day Rule

“Excellence……is not an act but a habit” – Aristotle

I have often joked with friends and colleagues, that I am a compulsive goal-setter. Be it the new year (for a Bengali, this is twice in the year – well spaced out in January and April), the start of a month, the start of a week or sometimes a landmark date like say, Diwali. Collectively, I stay resolutions-ready for ten to fifteen times in a year!

So, when the government announced a lockdown, it was too good an opportunity to lose. Vaguely, I remembered reading that 21 days of repetitive behavior could be habit-forming. I found myself a relatively new and neat notebook (thanks to a daughter with a penchant for pretty notebooks; in my possession, since she left home) and firmly put down the date – March 25, 2020. The resolutions list is a little too personal to share, so we shall leave it out of this space.

With the good intention of reinforcing my resolve, I decided to do a quick check on the net about this 21-Day rule.  A study carried out at University College, London (chosen by default and not design, as often happens in internet searches) was not particularly encouraging. In the study group, 96 participants were asked to choose an everyday behavior that they want to turn into a habit. For 84 days of the study, they logged a report each day on whether they practiced the behavior and how automatic this felt. Without going into the details, suffice to say that 21-days is probably right if all you want to do is drink a glass of water immediately on waking up.

My resolutions list, surely, is a little more challenging than that! This after-all is day one, so one shall not feel daunted by such research findings.

Speaking here a little more about the number 21. In the world of Tarot, the number is symbolic with success and fulfillment of desires. Not being an expert on numerology, I will not attempt to support this fact (or otherwise) with an explanation but would welcome some knowledgeable insights from my dear readers.

The number 21 finds many references in the Bible and it is mainly associated with change - in the sense of moving from a state of “evil” to a state of “goodness”. It is believed that Jesus Christ appeared in 21 places in Palestine, in order to confirm to all his believers that he was resurrected. Borrowing from Greek philosophy, wisdom is believed to have 21 attributes. In the same way, we bestow adulthood at the age of 21 by recognizing maturity and responsibility in an individual.

On a significantly different note, I am also reminded of a Bengali rhyme – Ekushe Ain from Sukumar Ray’s collection of Abol-Tabol (The Nonsense Rhymes). Translated, literally, it means ‘(The) 21 Rules’. At its satirical best, it is a reflection on the arbitrariness of British Rule. For my non-Bengali friends, I would recommend checking out the English translation in Wordygurdyboom by Sampurna Chatterjee and, while you are at it, read up on some of his other rhymes, too. These nonsense rhymes are highly recommended to cut-out any sense of doom or ennui.

Finally, our PM has said winning the war against coronavirus will take 21 days as opposed to the 18 days taken to win the epic war of Mahabharata, underlining the enormity of the challenge posed by the disease. We are all struggling with an indefinite, indescribable and, for now, an indestructible virus that has brought the world to its knees. While this is a sobering thought, in many ways it is also a reminder to make each day count.

Stay safe, respect lockdown!

#Covid_19 #21dayslockdown #coronavirus #self-quarantined

Rewind : Remembering Marcel Hickman

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be;

 But she is in her grave, and oh,

 The difference to me!

 From Lucy Poems by William Wordsworth

After many years, I remembered Marcel Hickman. I was interviewing a male assistant of some advanced years and probably something in his profile or mannerism took me back to those years.

There are many people who contribute significantly in our lives but other than a “thank you” is never acknowledged when you look back on life or career. Marcel Hickman was the first person to receive me in the Exide office. He was assistant to the Sales Department. To call him a secretary (that is what his designation read), would be limiting our understanding of his capabilities to shorthand, filing, and typing. For that matter, calling him an assistant, is also setting the understanding that he waited to be instructed or worked to a specific job description. Marcel was the sales anchor in Head Office. In the days before mobile phones, it was even more difficult to catch the always elusive salesmen. Marcel ensured that the sales machinery remained well-oiled. He was the man you went to for sales numbers at month-end and also the first person to catch your ire if the numbers did not meet the expectation.

There were no “working days” in his calendar, so long as you spared him time for Sunday church. I had the first-hand experience of this. Charged with some extra work during the budget period (being a multi-national in those days budget documents to exacting standards had to be sent to UK headquarters), I landed up in office just assuming that MH would be there, but he was not! Overcoming a paralyzing fear, I checked with the security and figured out the hostel where he stayed. With single-minded determination, I charged through the compound, asked a set of dumbstruck gentlemen playing handball his room number and proceeded up the stairs. A visibly disturbed Marcel was most unwilling to listen to me, insisting I should leave the hostel immediately and demanding to know how I got past the security. I extracted a promise that he would reach the office in under an hour and proceeded back. Apparently, the hostel had a strict “no ladies” policy!

Starting-off in MIS, my early career impetus came from a readiness to work 24x7. Budgets and QPR required detailed planning. The documentation involved a lot of wasteful work as edits had to be re-typed and checked. Here I would be hanging outside the Sales Director’s office waiting for each set of updates, new analysis, and numbers. There are fond memories of many warm cups of coffee arranged by the Director’s EA. They rallied around with me, never complaining even if the final edits took us well past midnight. They worked to exacting self-standards and taught me early in life to set my own goals and principles.

Then came a day when I had my own chamber and secretary. Can't say I did it right from the start. My first feedback from a lady was that I did not forward-share my plans, keeping her in the dark and the workload did not come in a uniform flow. Other feedback was that I was a workaholic and failed to bond. One learned, improved but most importantly had the very good fortune to have some amazing persons, in this journey. I would not like to take specific names here but I trust I have improved over the years to hold them as friends, confidantes and remembered to contribute in many little meaningful ways. So, there came a delightful time, when my assistant and I were both pregnant, just a trimester apart. Bonding got re-defined to another level and to date, we may not connect often but know we are there for each other.

Over the years, I have interviewed many persons for this position. The skill-sets have changed from dictation to MS Office. Maybe it is the generation that I belong to, but many times when several ideas are jostling in the head, I wish for that old competency of a shorthand speed of  80, and the presence of a  person with whom I am completely comfortable. There is something in that free-flowing dictation and its edits. I don’t want to bring a frown on the reader’s face but must be honest to state that my assistants have helped me cope by allowing me the luxury of releasing pressure like a safety-valve. This job is not just a defined skill-set but the ability to be parenting the boss.

I bow today, to all of you who have walked with me and hope I have added value in your lives, in some small manner.

Thank you!

Play Ball

It is IPL season and stealing an early share of controversy was Kings XI Punjab captain and bowler Ravichandran Ashwin who dismissed Jos Buttler in a run out popularly called ‘Mankading’. Named after legendary Indian bowler Vinoo Mankad, ‘Mankading’ is a method of run out where a bowler dismisses a non-striker by hitting the bails before bowling when the latter is outside the crease. Immediately, social media took up the debate on whether this was in the "spirit" of the game. Much has been said and meme-ed on the subject and, no, I am not writing another piece about the moral dimension. Suffices, to note hear, though, "mankading" can only happen when the batsmen is slightly away from the crease and fully concentrating on supporting the striker with a quick run.

In 30+ years in my career, I have often seen this cricketing trick (for want of a better word) being played out in corporate life. If you are only concentrating on the task in hand, the quick wins and functional objectives, be sure there are some silent career-derailers at work. I would identify three types of bowler-colleagues to watch out for.

The Smiling Assassin :

Normally a subordinate or peer, this person is always very respectful in meetings. Will accept your suggestions and even at times applaud these. She is careful to keep on very good terms with the Top Management but slows down the execution of ideas perceived as "yours" and not "hers".

The Faulty Friend :

He is the one who will single you out as a like-minded colleague. You will be invited to his house parties, find that the families are blending well and a common outside circle of friends is evolving. This may actually begin out of a genuine shared interest like a club membership, reading habits, tastes in food or golf. It is an accepted fact that official friendships get highly challenged when both parties are talented and corporate eventuality of the pyramid would favour only one of them moving ahead.

The Silo Sultan :

This type is not uncommon. In most organisations, silo-working is identified as the main reason for loosing momentum in execution of strategy. In fairness to this person, the competitive corporate culture, sets us out to protect first the interests of our own functions. The Silo Sultan never leaves an opportunity to catch the Boss' ears on what the other function-head is doing incorrectly and / or given a chance how he would do things differently. 

Like in cricket, when something like this happens in corporate life, the talk by the cooler turns to "unfairness " v/s "foolhardiness". The important point to note, here, is that as per the Laws of Cricket 41.16 if a Non-striker leaves his/her ground early, the bowler is permitted to attempt to run him/her out. Further, whether the attempt is successful or not, the ball is not to be counted as one in the over.The law also states that if the bowler fails in an attempt to run out the non-striker, the umpire shall call and signal "dead ball" as soon as possible.

The corporate analogy is not hard to find. If the Organization culture sets a high premium on "fixing" the individual rather than correcting the process, it helps to have some ready cues to explain overall performance. Fault-finding gets unconsciously encouraged and a mankading colleague might actually be "permitted" in his act, like the bowler. The reason behind a sudden switch in roles or a transfer remains silent, like that uncounted or dead ball. 

Both, the spirit and letter of this law makes the act fully legitimate. In a country where "cricket is a religion", Mankading gets established as par for the course. Better, therefore, to stay at the crease, keep a good eye out over the entire field and recognise the colleagues who could be "mankading without a qualm". After all, like cricket, "big boys" play the corporate game. 

Finally, as Sanjay Manjrekar tweeted : 

"Dear coaches, 

train your batsmen at the non strikers end, to keep watching the bowler till he releases the ball. Mankading is a legitimate mode of dismissal. Be wary of it. 

As far as ‘spirit’is concerned, that’s for after the game, that you can pour in your glass.😋"

The same applies to corporate after-parties, where you applaud each other, raise a toast to teamwork and dance a jig to those "balle-balle" numbers.