A to Z Work Travelogue : Enchanting Egypt

 “I thought she was unmarried because she laughs a lot”!

This was wisdom from our day guide in Cairo. We were a small group out sightseeing on our last day in Egypt. The guide took great pains to explain to me that I could marry and stay back in his beautiful country, given their favorable laws. To support his case, he also tried to impress me by talking about how he was pursuing a PhD. After quite a bit of this throughout the day, a colleague decided to inform the guide that I was married and had two children, leading to his comment.

 

Of all the countries I have traveled to on work, the romantic disposition of the Egyptian male beat others hollow. I got a total of 3 marriage proposals over a five-day visit! At the same time, I met one of the Group’s smartest production heads and the only lady I have seen in that role in the lead-acid battery industry. There is no intended social commentary here, as the sample size was too small, but the stark contrast was not to be forgotten.

 

Egypt is one country where it was difficult to balance work and leisure. It is the only country in my work visits where I had planned sightseeing. It helped that some programs like the sound and light show at the Giza pyramids and the Nile River cruise were end of day activities. It is also true that like the Sri Lankans in Egypt, the locals took a lot of pride in showcasing their sights and lifestyle.

Shopping was a glorious ritual. Firstly, there were many touristy souvenirs to take back home, and you couldn’t rush through the purchase. The shopkeeper would refuse to engage early on any discussions on price, opting to first display all his wares. This would be followed by generous praise for my smile. Finally, a lot of haggling and one would necessarily walk away with some delicate glass item wrapped carefully for its long journey back.

 

In fact, this cultural disposition for bargaining is something I learnt the hard way some months after this visit. One of the prospective customers and a rich investor at that, returned our visit. While business meetings were all in Kolkata, he had asked to arrange a visit to the Infosys campus. After this, we went to a high-end saree store in Bangalore, where he liked many pieces. He explained how these would make unique dresses for the ladies of the house. Confident that his large selection would entitle him to some discount he was very disappointed to be read out the store policy. By then we were getting late for our flight and quickly had to close the purchase and leave. Our customer was irate and did not speak to me till we got on to the flight. Luckily, the in-flight magazine was carrying a centerspread advertisement on the same store with much mention about its unique sarees (none having duplicates) and celebrity clientele. Our guest chose to concede the point and with a grin said that bargaining is a sport, and a little concession would have made him much happier with his purchase.

Most of my international work travel happened when the children were very young and I was focused on pushing for more distributor meetings and returning home quickly. It was well before the Instagram era and with sketchy memories and lost photographs these few social moments remain. The buyer I spoke about was a Moroccan businessman settled in Egypt. I treasure the book on Moroccan cooking that he gifted to us. Most of all, I treasure the lessons learnt in relationship building, high voltage emotion-led negotiations and the subtle art of business being sealed over a hearty meal!

 

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A to Z Work Travelogue - Dazzling Dubai (& Rest of UAE)

Dubai was business nerve centre for us. A critical gateway to CIS countries and North Africa and with a reasonably good local demand, it was very important for our international business vertical. I made several visits, there, over a four year period from 2001 - 2005 for bulk-purchase deals, enroute to CIS countries, to catch up with other distributors from Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, a local dealers' conference, part of a CII business delegation and also for an Auto major's vendor conference. Every time, I went back to the city I marveled at the change, the energy and the vision shared by our business partners and local administrators.

 

The desert safaris, dune bashing, belly dancing, stroll along the Abu Dhabi Corniche, the white sands of Al Fujairah, sunset cruise at Dubai Marina, the Burj Al Arab, Jumeirah beach, indeed, there is a lot to see. Given my several visits, I was able to phase all this out.

Strolling down the streets of  Bur Dubai, it is hard to remember that the city is built on a desert. Vision lay strong in conceptualizing, whether it was the Al Jumeirah to be built such that it could be seen from space or the falcon symbolizing Abu Dhabi's virtual drive. This was brought home to me while accompanying a government delegation and some industrialists from Kolkata. The then Eastern Region CII director suggested that business visitors to Dubai might like to enjoy tourism with their families in a Jaipur or Delhi, suggesting a probable area of cooperation. A very senior official we were meeting, gave a gentle smile and responded,

"We are in agreement that in years to come, business and recreation will increasingly merge. We are also clear that business will only go to those countries where there are recreation options and we are focused on creating such an ecosystem". 

I saw a lot of this change pan out over the 5 years UAE was my market.

 

Dubai, however, is one place I will remember for business first. In the battery trade there are a large number of dealers from Bangladesh and market visit actually made sense. The dealers were candid and one received useful insights. Our product carried a six-month (from date of sale) warranty and to monitor misuse we implemented a settlement mechanism of 9 months from date of manufacturing with our distributors. Obviously there was a push back (as dealers wanted a clear settlement of cases within six months of sale) and I went to understand if it was actually affecting the dealer. At one counter with dis-arming frankness a dealer showed me some tally marks on the last page of a copy book. 

"I face no problems, he said". "Mostly the rich Sheiks do not bother to check on the warranty terms and if a battery fails under 9 months they simply buy a new one. I keep these discarded batteries aside and that is the top line of tally marks. Sometimes I face a sticky customer and have to provide a free replacement i.e. the bottom row of tally marks. I simply substitute one for the other as a claim. Company is happy as replacement is within agreed date code and I am happy knowing that I have played fair"! 

 

Amidst such business nuggets, one met customers from various countries. One buyer from Afghanistan, joined us for lunch at an Indian restaurant. We had ordered a biryani, which to our palate was bland with a capital B! Our buyer, however, was sweating profusely and had found the dish pungent. His story was that in his village they dressed a kid goat with some oil and salt and buried it several feet under the sand for some days. When baked to perfection, the same was largely eaten with local bread and dry fruits. 

 

I remember well the magnetic presence of the founder of  Easa Sales Al Gurg, our distributors in the UAE (and regret deeply having misplaced the photographs with him taken on the rooftop of the ESAG towers with the Dubai skyline in the background). A dynamic personality into business, politics and diplomacy, he was the Ambassador to the UK for over a decade. When he stepped down, his daughter Dr Raja Easa Sales Al Gurg picked up the reins of the business. She embraced me warmly as one of the tribe and we had an engaging conversation about women leadership.

Matching, equally, such exotic stories, one had the opportunity to sample world cuisine. You could be seriously spoilt for choice, here. 

My last trip was in 2015, after a 10-year gap, taking our cement dealers for the Annual Conference. By popular choice, the main event was at the Atlantis. The dealers were chuffed over the experience of arriving at the Atlantis in limousines. This, probably is the last few memories I carry about the UAE. As mentioned before, I changed companies thrice and, somewhere misplaced a host of photographs. In fact, my first digital camera was picked up at the Carrefour in Dubai!

Forgetting

I was to take a flight back last week and luckily checked my purse that morning, only to find I was not carrying my house keys. It would have been a disaster arriving past 11 pm and not being able to let myself into the flat. As it happened, there is a duplicate in my office and I asked a colleague to send it across through the driver, saving myself some hassle and much embarrassment. 

I have always had a curiosity or call it fascination about the act of forgetting. From a literary point of view, an early recall is a Marathi poem we learnt in junior school called “Mama ki ainak” or Uncle’s spectacles. Uncle turned the house upside down one day and scolded all and sundry for not knowing where he had kept his spectacles. Most of the family kept a safe distance fearing his temper. At the end, the spunkiest and the youngest child pointed out that his spectacles were resting on his head! Robert Lynd’s essay on the subject is another piece I had saved for many years in a scrap book and would return to reading it occasionally. In the wonderland of Wodehouse, there was the forgetful Lord Emsworth whose mind had space for only two worthy causes – his gardening and his prize pig. All else he was susceptible to forget, providing the delightful plots for the Blanding’s series. Of the many Wodehouse stories, the one I remember best is Money in the Bank. Here Lord something-something, turned the family wealth into a stash of diamonds and hid it away, leaving a cryptic note in his diary – “money in the bank”. This in normal course would not have been a problem but, the Lord explicitly did not trust the Banks. Many delightful, Wodehouse style incidents later the true location of the diamonds turns out to be the bank of the pond at the Lord’s mansions. 

I am not a stranger to forgetful situations. I remember once, driving in for petrol at the AAEI petrol pump on Ballygunge Circular Road, topping up the tank, only to realize that I was not carrying my purse. Luckily, in those days I was working with Exide and had launched a battery branded specifically for taxis at AAEI. One of the attendants recognized me and we agreed that the money could be paid when returning from work that evening. Such an incident should have ensured that I never forgot to take my purse, but this didn’t happen. I went on to avail of services at my parlor, only to figure out I was carrying my purse but sans cash. I drove down a good five kilometers in lunch break to pick up our wedding photographs and, guess what? Again, without purse or cash! This time I wasn’t as lucky. The horrible owner refused to part with the photos till paid in FULL! 

Some days back, a lady posted on Twitter that she cannot figure out how her customers of bespoke sarees, who take a lot of effort to work out unique designs with her, manage to forget the same in the hotels they visit. Well, I have a host of stories in that line. The happier ones have been where I came home and checked immediately and could retrieve the same. Most times, I have realized only when I wanted to wear that outfit, many days later. Trident holds the gold standard in hotels for me. I once left a T-shirt there and they were kind enough to tag this to my husband’s privilege account and hand it over to him on his next visit. My pet peeve is that all Hotels should provide chargers. I am sure there are many like me who leave behind chargers that can easily provide for a back-up bank at no extra cost. 

What probably even my family doesn’t know, I once almost set a prestigious Club on fire by leaving the dry kettle on. This was in early days when kettles did not have reliable cut-offs and the room had a little note requesting that it be unplugged when not in use. They tracked me down and I had to pay damages – kettle and burnt-out socket. I considered that my lucky day!

Seasonal Flowers

 

“A flower’s appeal is in its contradictions – so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect.” – Terry Guillemets

 

Impatiens tended to by the hubby

Another winter is here. The Impatiens are in full bloom. I sit here, marveling at the range of colors. Science teaches us that a flower absorbs all other colors in the light spectrum, except for the color we see. So, the red flower is absorbing the VIBGYO, except for red and the yellow flower is absorbing VIBGYR and reflecting the yellow. Now visualize a flower bed; each flower exhibits individualism in absorbing a unique set of colors and at the same time exhibits teamwork in lending a different color in the bunch. Would we not want to be the same as human beings? Bring color, absorb the unwanted vices, reflect the wanted virtues and add color to this world in a state of harmony.

 

Petunias

Last year we had only Petunias in our balcony garden. All flowers bloomed in a purple and wore a monotonous look. This year, we did not want to take a chance and added Impatiens for variety. The Petunias are now in full bloom and their burst of colors is jostling with the Impatiens for attention. We would like to believe that a little competition brought out the best in the Petunias.

The Sunflower standing tall

Seasonal flowers evoke many memories. I grew up in a small but beautiful and open south-west facing flat in Bombay. In one corner of the balcony, Mom had a deep and wide concrete flowerbed. Through the year, Mom worked to tease green shoots from seeds and tend the plants to grow the season’s flowers. Sunflowers, Zinnias, Balsam, Flocks, Verbena, Petunias, Chrysanthemums, Marigolds are some I vividly remember. As the season got over, she neatly snipped off the flowers just before they started to whither and these went into a variety of vases in all our rooms. I recall one birthday (in July), when she made me a hairband with colorful Balsams. At the same time, I remember a day when she toppled over her most favorite vase (Czechoslovakian crystal and a wedding gift) and stayed quiet and withdrawn for the greater part of the day. Such happy and sad memories, together make our lives. Mine are intertwined in this array of colors.

The fragrant lilies with nestling insects

We changed many homes between Bombay, Calcutta and Delhi but seasonal flowers remained a constant in our lives. So much so that my sister and daughter are nurturing this hobby with full acknowledgement to the passion that Mom inculcated in them. Some blooms, like this red Dahlia, I have photographed in Mom's garden almost three decades back. Lilies find their way from garden to vases, as they have done in the family for generations. 

Dahlias across the generations

Cherry Blossoms

The Wistful Wisteria

The daughter has taken this love many miles away and sends us pictures of Primroses as we had only read in Enid Blyton's books. Her garden has many rare flowers like Wisteria, Anemones, Morning Glory, Tulips and Daffodils. The sister, occasionally, sends a good morning message with some rare flowers from her balcony garden.

In all its Morning Glory

 

Enid Blyton and the Primroses

I continue to stand by and take pleasure. In my teenage years I used to take photographs and make out handmade greeting cards with prints of the flowers. Now, I doff my hat to the husband and ladies and put up a post or two on Instagram. In the rush of life, it is important to take those moments to appreciate beauty and thank those who bring it so endearingly in our lives.

Pansies from Daughter's and Sister's gardens

Old Dog and New Tricks

My father was a great one for repeating the adage – “you don’t grow old. You become old when you cease to grow”. Couple that with the other one that goes, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” and you have just about summarized the conflicts of “becoming” old.

Doing some random reading on dementia, I learnt that physical exercise plays a good part in keeping dementia at bay. This is another dimension to our earlier understanding that mental agility requires new learning and reading.

“Studies show that people who are physically active are less likely to experience a decline in their mental function and have lower risk of developing Alzheimer’s disease. Physical activity is one of the known modifiable risk factors for dementia”  - Dr Jonanthan Graff-Radford, M.D.

He goes on, in his response, to explain that better blood flow and chemicals circulation improve cognitive responses. Also, physical activity slows down some of the natural reduction in brain connections that occur with aging.

In Okinanwa, the fountainhead of the life philosophy “ikigai”, it is believed that a key component of staying healthy is to “keep moving” throughout the day. Okinawans believe that hectic exercise can many times be a deterrent and therefore, recommend gentler forms of continuous movement. There is a form of such gentle exercise popularized by radio and called Radio Taiso (you might like to check this out on YouTube). With simple exercises, like lifting your arms above your head and bringing them down again, Radio Taiso is an easy to repeat form of exercise for the Japanese.

At a personal level, I have followed a regular exercise and swimming routine. With Covid, the latter came to a halt, and I did notice a little lethargy and of course some weight gain. This first led to diversifying the routine and introducing some weights. I was still looking for some fun factor in the routine when someone sent to me a hula-hooping video. Eshna Kutty was in this video for Exide Batteries under their #WhatDrivesYou online promo.

Hula hooping? At my age? I kept following Eshna and other hoopers and just grew to love what I saw. They were blending music and movement with a lot of opportunity for improvising. It appeared like easy and fun. Last January, I finally subscribed to Eshna’s online classes It was very difficult at the start and I had to overcome shyness to demonstrate my utter incapability in front of young ladies easily half my age, with the youngest being barely nine! Eshna only encouraged me to set small goals. “If you are now managing up to a count of ten, try to keep it for 20 counts”, she said. Note, we are practically talking seconds here.

Many more days of struggle followed till I had my moment of epiphany. Revisiting the online videos, I figured that music played an important role in the routine. It probably takes your mind off the fear of dropping the hoop and nudges you to enjoy the moment. I picked up a couple of cheerful songs to help me in my journey and took up a small goal of keeping the hoop going for just the length of one song. That meant getting into a three to five minutes routine.

 

Da-da-di-dum, I am now doing an easy 12-15 minutes with three to four songs playing in a string. The old dog has learnt a new trick, with a little inspirational reading, experimenting and much persistence.

What will it be next, belly-dancing? 

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!