After Ratan, who?

The business sections of the newspapers, the general news and the conversations in coffee shops and streets alike are abuzz with discussion on this question – after Ratan Tata, who? Those who are old enough to know, remind us of the early 1990s, when the reign of JRD Tata was coming to an end and the discussion centred around if Ratan Tata will be able to step into the mammoth-sized shoes of JRD.

Ratan’s period at the helm of the Tata Group has been short compared to the reign of Jamshedji and JRD, but he has nevertheless created as deep an impact as his illusory predecessors. Ratan’s quiet demeanour, dignified conduct of himself and his affairs and the able steering of Tata group laid to rest doubts on the little-known Ratan of the 1980s. True to his name, he has both been a gem and a Tata. The most recent example of the dignity with which Ratan Tata held himself and the Tata group is the Nano project at Singur. As his dream project ran into troubled waters stirred by political ambitions, Ratan Tata with a cool head worked out a practical solution to the problem. He focused on his business and refused to be stirred by the political currents swirling around the issue.

In his unique style, he has now stated that ability and not blue blood of any sort will be the consideration deciding upon his successor. The interest in the successor to the Tata group is largely due to the Tatas being a pride of India. People want someone not fancy or flashy, but someone they can trust to carry forward the shining legacy of the Tatas. And one cannot blame people for wanting a Tata to be the successor, for that is the name they have come to trust and love. They are justified in believing the humility, philanthropist mindset and devotion to the motherland that has always set the Tatas apart cannot easily be matched by an outsider. They would very much prefer a Tata groomed with the same qualities in the family to take the baton from Ratan Tata.


Noel Tata, who is touted to be leading the race faces a different scenario from what Ratan faced in 1991. Ratan’s entry was watched with suspicion, even bordering on disdain, while Noel Tata’s possible reign is being welcomed already. After Ratan established his credentials of being an able “Tata” confidence seems abound that a Tata would indeed be the best-suited for the job, and hence Noel Tata would carry forward the legacy well.

All the talk about the search committee doesn’t impress me much or inspire me with great confidence. I would very much prefer Ratan Tata sat down to think and came out with the person best-suited. But the man in question apparently prefers an all-round assessment and discussion of merits/demerits of candidates by more than one head. Frankly, speaking for myself, I am not very happy with the names making the rounds as possible successors – Indra Nooyi, Arun Sarin, etc. I hope it is just a figment of the media's imagination(very limited one at that, at times).

Steering a group as big and diversified as the Tata Sons requires, above all, setting the vision, preparing the ground to some extent and delegating the responsibility to the right man arming him with all necessary authority. And none of the names seem to me that they can create a vision – for a vision here means much more than profit margins and market share. The vision of the Tatas has always been centered on Indian society not just the Tata Sons. And delegation is as important, one should know when to step back and handover charge, for one can do only so much when managing such a diverse range of interests. For instance, someone concentrating on Steel production cannot focus on Chemical business at the same time and do justice to both with ease.

Knowing the right mix of direct and indirect leadership is the key. And I cannot but feel only someone who has firsthand experience with the Tata group can do that effectively.

As for the Parsi question, though Ratan Tata hastened to dismiss that, noone really minds a fellow Parsi succeeding him, for they would look to the Parsi values to guide the successor. And I doubt anyone will actually accuse the Parsi community of wanting to keep the Tata reigns within their community.

All said and done, a head, that is disproportionately small to the large feet to fill the huge shoes, is what will complete the definition of the Captain of the Tata ship.

A Monsoon Dusk

It was nearly dusk and fluffy grey cumulonimbus clouds were scurrying across they sky carried by the strong Southwest monsoon winds. Actually, I should say racing, they were definitely moving at 80 km an hour at the very least. As I watched they darkened the horizon and blocked out the last rays of the setting sun. In a matter of minutes they were overhead darkening the blue sky, ushering in the night quicker than usual. With the light fading, the grey-tinged clouds seemed to darken more and hang lower, perhaps as they are closer now. There was a sudden break in the clouds and the sinking red orb dazzled like a ruby for a split second before sinking from view. More clouds crowded in and the gap at the horizon where the sun peeked out was no more. The cheerful looking cumulonimbus now resembled foreboding nimbus. The last vestiges of blue were fast disappearing


The clouds did not seem to be in a hurry now, they seemed to halt and wait for the stragglers to join them. Lights flickered on in the houses and apartments nearby, I thanked the stars I did not have an apartment building right next to block my sky-viewing. Then came the first moist gusts of wind, gentle at first, sporadic, as though teasing. Its feel on my arms was a pleasant caress, the coolness refreshing. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the freshness it brought in. The sporadic flow steadied, then came along a little strongly, slowly picking up speed and rhythm. In a couple of minutes the breeze had turned into a strong wind. The clothes on the clothesline in the balconies and terraces nearby flapped. The few winged creatures in the neighbourhood took flight, presumably to their nests. My eyes strained to follow them in the twilight.


Then suddenly, as if a tank had burst, the rain came down, fast and furious. It jerked me out of my reveling. For all my observation of the preparatory rituals, the rain still came as a mild shock. The downpour seemed a stern contrast to the play of the clouds. My hand stretched out on its own accord, the feel of water on my arm was heavenly. In the semi-darkness I watched the water drip off my fingers. It was lost in the torrent just a second after it left my fingers. I overturned my hand and caught the rain in my palm, then I slowly tilted my hand and let the water flow off. It held its identity only marginally more than the water dripping off my fingers had. I was absorbed in my little game for a few seconds. Suddenly the wind changed course and rain caught me full on. I stepped back quickly and laughed. The wind was back on course now. The monsoon rain had been affronted with my assumption about it being a staid lady. It was her way of saying, “Who said I am not playful?” It was completely dark; the night had fallen.

Birdwatch

I sat in my cubicle at work which is probably one of the better ones for it gives me a view of the world outside even if a blue-tinted picture. As I glanced up from my world of pixels and absent-mindedly looked through the floor to ceiling blue panes which are kept spotlessly clean by our house-keeping personnel, my eyes lazily followed the two specks tracing a pattern against the blue and white canvas that is the sky.

As my mind slowly slipped away from trying to wangle a solution for the problem I was working on, my nerve cells diverted their energies to the two tiny specks. And the ignored signals from my optic nerves got their due.

The two specks grew steadily larger as the two white-necked eagles that often rest on the balcony rails outside our blue-tinted windows flew nearer. I threw back my head and rested my neck on the backrest of my chair and stretched my legs, all the while continuing to watch the soothing rhythm of the eagles flying in circles. How come one doesn’t get dizzy watching them fly round and round I wondered lazily. As their flight-dance sequence moved closer to the building, I could make out the slight bends of their wings and the gentle tilts of their bodies as they fly. Their movements are graceful and seemingly effortless.

I noticed their heads were bent facing down, then I realized they were looking for/stalking their prey from above. I couldn’t but marvel at their sync even as they kept their eyes on the ground.

“What did their sharp eyes spot on the concrete roads and mosaic pavements in the IT campus when I haven’t spotted a single seed or stone in all my three years here?” I mused.“Maybe some rats on the garbage dump behind the foodcourt.”

One of the pair disappeared out of view suddenly as it swooped downward, probably zeroing in on its target. The other continued to circle even as it moved slightly further away. The first one had probably scared away the other potential targets as it stealthily and in one swift motion grabbed its unsuspecting prey.

“Ah! To fly! To spread one’s wings and glide!” I thought wistfully. “You aren’t the first to wish that dear”, said another part of me with a slight chuckle. I smiled to myself.

Pondering on my chain of thought a few seconds back, “The life of an eagle probably isn’t as romantic as it looks”, I thought. “Food wouldn’t appear as if by magic every mealtime. Every morsel of food has to be hunted out, probably flying for hours under the hot sun. Its nest requires even more labour.”

But then, the eagle does have something to show for its efforts. All the grueling hard work goes towards gaining something solid, something tangible and something meaningful.

Even to the unintended spectator, it gave a stunning show and a relaxing break from the mundane. Wonder how many of us can claim of such an achievement!

Cryptic Runes: Sons of the Soil

Dr. Venkataraman Ramakrishnan - he is the toast of the Indian media at the moment. Let us take a look at some of his christenings in the media. “Sikaram thota Chidambara Tamizhar” (Tamizhan from Chidambaram who scaled the peak) claims a Tamil magazine. Educated at Baroda is the claim of proud Gujarat media. “He is also Bangalore’s own” claims the Times of India, the reason being that he spent an amount of time at the IISc.

And here are the facts – he was born in Chidambaram, the family moved to Baroda when he was three where his parents worked at the MS University. He was educated in the same University. After graduation, he moved to the US and completed his doctorate in Physics and later studied Biology in the Ohio Univ and Univ of California respectively.

Of the earlier claims, probably Baroda has the most sensible one. After all, he schooled there and completed his graduation there as well. But then, why did a brilliant student with obvious liking for research leave the University and the country is what we have to look at. The usual answers – sub-standard higher education, lack of opportunities for research, lack of monetary benefits, dearth of research facilities, etc. Yes, the problems are commonplace, but that doesn’t make them any less significant.

But the crux of this column is not to rant about the appalling nature of our scientific and research establishments and universities, it is the hypocrisy of claiming as our own someone who apparently is not.

I don’t blame Dr. Ramakrishnan, it is unfair to expect him to give up opportunities to work on cutting edge research in some of the top-class institutions on the basis of a crude notion of patriotism, forget the money. We will have to accept the fact that brilliant as he is, he might not have scaled these heights had he pottered around the highly bureaucratic institutions in India.

Not only is he no longer our citizen, we played little role in his scientific endeavours. Why then puff our chests in pride that an Indian is the recipient of the Nobel? The claim goes to the institutions he is affiliated with, the organizations that sponsored his work and the nation that nurtured these establishments.

Given all these, I feel thoroughly ashamed to read the pious “son of the soil” reports by the media. It sounds absolutely pathetic. I cringe when I imagine what the American citizenship authorities or whatever they are called must think when they read such articles. They must probably be laughing their heads off. The US citizens will probably be reading them with a sceptic and knowing smile.

And this is just one instance. There are numerous other examples. Here are a couple of them I can pick off the top of my head – reports of the Indian-Americans(not even Indian by birth) in Obama’s administration, Bobby Jindal – the Governor of Louisiana.

We can indeed congratulate them and wish them well with dignity. Shashi Tharoor sounded the right tune when he tweeted “Congrats to Dr. Ramakrishnan. Wish he still held an Indian passport though”.

We have a lot to be proud of as a nation – our Space programme is no mean achievement nor is the fact that we remain a united nation under a democratic rule more than half a century after independence given the fact we were(and still are to some extent) a largely illiterate nation. I can mention many more achievements. And individuals we can be proud of too – Indians, in the sense that their travails and success stories were enacted here in our motherland. Also, we need not seek endorsement of the reputed Indian intellect, it is well-known.

I do not fault the NRIs or NRI-turned-US-citizens for leaving the nation. I do not complain of betrayal or something equally crude and rude. I just wish we were sensible enough not to sound so pathetic and thick-headed so as to lay claims on something not ours. And I am not speaking of a mere technicality such as not holding an Indian Passport. We have remained an upright nation during our 62 years of independence and a proud race throughout history. Let us not start sounding humbug now.

P. S: Yest was a national holiday, you know J. Ok, I did get the column written, I swear. I was just too sleepy to look up some facts and revalidate before posting. Blame my mother’s delicious cooking and my over-energetic pets.

Starting a column

Why and How. That is what I am going to write about in this column of mine today along with a self-styled definition of my column. The Why translates to why a column? Cos people don’t listen to me and I desperately need a way to jabber? Cos I am plain bored? Cos I have so much stuff in my head and I need a way offload it or record it? Well, maybe… But the truth is, I have been trying to write for sometime now and needless to say I have not had much success. Or rather I have been too sporadic to say I actually write. So I decided I will do a column. Now you are probably thinking Ok, I get the picture – it is a fancy name for her ramblings cos she doesn’t really have anything solid to write about. No, you are wrong. I do have lot to write about. Honestly. Or atleast I have a lot of ideas or topics to write about. So that brings back the question Why. The answer is, this is going to be a regular column, meaning I have to write regularly. Great idea, huh? So you are now asking how did I get such a brilliant(??) idea. That is the How. I was thinking of a way to make myself write as I glanced through the papers this morning. I looked at Paul Krugman’s column and Bingo! - got my answer.

So now having gotten the Why and How out of the way, I am pondering on other questions – is a column supposed to be about something - atleast some wide area? And there is supposed to be a word limit right? Or a range atleast? I know the newspaper columns do have them, but you do have these online publications these days… :D Alright, I am going to answer these questions myself and that way set some ground rules for this self–published column. This column is going to be generic. And the word limit ____. I will fill in the blank when I am done with this first column.

There is yet another question I cannot wiggle my way out of, the definition of my column will be incomplete without that – frequency. How frequent is this column going to be? Twice a week – Tuesday and Saturday. Biting off more than I can chew? Maybe, but then anything to make me write.

If you are wondering whether I am dreaming to make it big as a columnist and starting off on you unsuspecting readers here as a sounding board of sorts. You are a little off the mark. I am perfectly honest when I say I am just trying to write. Right now I prefer fiction and serious essays to free-flowing columns. But since I am yet to get my inspiration for a great character or plotline and not finding time to research in depth for any of my essay topics(I do have a list of them), I have settled for a column.

If you contend that a series of articles uploaded on a blog cannot be deemed a Column, call it what you will. I am going to call it a Column.

So we have a deal, a regular column -Tuesdays and Saturdays, on anything I ponder about. If you insist on a title, it is going to be Cryptic Runes, same as my blog. Oh, and the word limit will be 500 –750 words. (In case you are wondering, this one is 590 words long).

P. S: Look for Cryptic Runes in the title and “Column” and “Cryptic Runes” in the tags.

Any pilots out there?

One cannot miss all the talk about the modernization of Indian Defence forces, especially the Air Force – which has been going on for quite sometime I might add. With the aircrafts in commission with the forces running out of their lifetime and our indigenous aircraft manufacturers struggling to produce even basic airborne machines, various foreign players have been vying for lucrative contracts (forget the fact that the deals already signed are getting perennially delayed and facing numerous other integration issues).

Ok, forget modernization, are we equipped with even the basic tools? A couple of days back I was seriously surprised to read about the grounding of the Basic Jet Trainer fleet from HAL. It is common knowledge that we are on the look out for, or rather have been for quite sometime, on the lookout for Intermediate Jet Trainers. And I don't even want to know what the scenario is with the Advanced Jet trainers.

I should probably add a mention here about these trainer aircraft. The training of pilots for fighter aircraft is a complex job. The pilots are trained in successively more complex aircrafts – Basic, Intermediate, Advanced and then the actual fighters. This progressively fastens their reflexes and makes them capable of flying the high-end machines. So bottomline - the Trainer aircraft are indispensable for the training of Air Force pilots.

So now that we know the fundas of Jet trainers, the picture emerges – we don’t have the aircraft to train our pilots. So how are our pilots getting trained? Good question, maybe we should ask, are they getting trained at all? And my friend who is my source of info on all matters defence-oriented, says we have been operating at a deficiency of pilots for atleast a couple of years now. No wonder.

Note: I am not faulting the actual grounding of the fleet. I don’t like to have our defence personnel on unreliable machines either. One life lost is one too many.

Priorities

On watching the astounding series “Planet Earth” from the BBC stables, it struck me that in the enthralling variety that is nature, there is one theme that is recurrent. From the Hump-backed whale to the brittle starfish, there are four priorities for every living being – self-defense, food, courting, parenting. One may argue that the third and fourth are part of a single priority – an urge for propagation of one’s species. But I prefer to keep the classification this way.

The mechanisms of the living being, its features, its way of life and choice of habitat are all dictated by these four factors. So much so that these are the defining factors of a living being. Study of any organism will be comprehensive once these four are covered.

Pondering on these lines, it seems it is us humans who have complicated our priorities way too much. Probably because these four priorities do not pose as big a challenge to us as they do to our fellow creatures.