Monday, June 25, 2007

Life Lessons from Narayana Murthy


N R Narayana Murthy, chief mentor and chairman of the board, Infosys Technologies, delivered a pre-commencement lecture at the New York University (Stern School of Business) on 09 May 2007. It is a scintillating speech, Murthy speaks about the lessons he learnt from his life and career:

Dean Cooley, faculty, staff, distinguished guests, and, most importantly, the graduating class of 2007, it is a great privilege to speak at your commencement ceremonies. I thank Dean Cooley and Prof Marti Subrahmanyam for their kind invitation. I am exhilarated to be part of such a joyous occasion. Congratulations to you, the class of 2007, on completing an important milestone in your life journey.

After some thought, I have decided to share with you some of my life lessons. I learned these lessons in the context of my early career struggles, a life lived under the influence of sometimes unplanned events which were the crucibles that tempered my character and reshaped my future.
I would like first to share some of these key life events with you, in the hope that these may help you understand my struggles and how chance events and unplanned encounters with influential persons shaped my life and career. Later, I will share the deeper life lessons that I have learned. My sincere hope is that this sharing will help you see your own trials and tribulations for the hidden blessings they can be.

The first event occurred when I was a graduate student in Control Theory at IIT, Kanpur, in India. At breakfast on a bright Sunday morning in 1968, I had a chance encounter with a famous computer scientist on sabbatical from a well-known US university. He was discussing exciting new developments in the field of computer science with a large group of students and how such developments would alter our future. He was articulate, passionate and quite convincing. I was hooked. I went straight from breakfast to the library, read four or five papers he had suggested, and left the library determined to study computer science.

Friends, when I look back today at that pivotal meeting, I marvel at how one role model can alter for the better the future of a young student. This experience taught me that valuable advice can sometimes come from an unexpected source, and chance events can sometimes open new doors.

The next event that left an indelible mark on me occurred in 1974. The location: Nis, a border town between former Yugoslavia, now Serbia, and Bulgaria. I was hitchhiking from Paris back to Mysore, India, my home town. By the time a kind driver dropped me at Nis railway station at 9 p.m. on a Saturday night, the restaurant was closed. So was the bank the next morning, and I could not eat because I had no local money. I slept on the railway platform until 8.30 pm in the night when the Sofia Express pulled in. The only passengers in my compartment were a girl and a boy. I struck a conversation in French with the young girl. She talked about the travails of living in an iron curtain country, until we were roughly interrupted by some policemen who, I later gathered, were summoned by the young man who thought we were criticising the communist government of Bulgaria.

The girl was led away; my backpack and sleeping bag were confiscated. I was dragged along the platform into a small 8x8 foot room with a cold stone floor and a hole in one corner by way of toilet facilities. I was held in that bitterly cold room without food or water for over 72 hours. I had lost all hope of ever seeing the outside world again, when the door opened. I was again dragged out unceremoniously, locked up in the guard's compartment on a departing freight train and told that I would be released 20 hours later upon reaching Istanbul. The guard's final words still ring in my ears - "You are from a friendly country called India and that is why we are letting you go!"

The journey to Istanbul was lonely, and I was starving. This long, lonely, cold journey forced me to deeply rethink my convictions about Communism. Early on a dark Thursday morning, after being hungry for 108 hours, I was purged of any last vestiges of affinity for the Left. I concluded that entrepreneurship, resulting in large-scale job creation, was the only viable mechanism for eradicating poverty in societies. Deep in my heart, I always thank the Bulgarian guards for transforming me from a confused Leftist into a determined, compassionate capitalist! Inevitably, this sequence of events led to the eventual founding of Infosys in 1981.

While these first two events were rather fortuitous, the next two, both concerning the Infosys journey, were more planned and profoundly influenced my career trajectory.

On a chilly Saturday morning in winter 1990, five of the seven founders of Infosys met in our small office in a leafy Bangalore suburb. The decision at hand was the possible sale of Infosys for the enticing sum of $1 million. After nine years of toil in the then business-unfriendly India, we were quite happy at the prospect of seeing at least some money. I let my younger colleagues talk about their future plans. Discussions about the travails of our journey thus far and our future challenges went on for about four hours. I had not yet spoken a word.

Finally, it was my turn. I spoke about our journey from a small Mumbai apartment in 1981 that had been beset with many challenges, but also of how I believed we were at the darkest hour before the dawn. I then took an audacious step. If they were all bent upon selling the company, I said, I would buy out all my colleagues, though I did not have a cent in my pocket. There was a stunned silence in the room. My colleagues wondered aloud about my foolhardiness. But I remained silent. However, after an hour of my arguments, my colleagues changed their minds to my way of thinking. I urged them that if we wanted to create a great company, we should be optimistic and confident. They have more than lived up to their promise of that day.

In the seventeen years since that day, Infosys has grown to revenues in excess of $3.0 billion, a net income of more than $800 million and a market capitalisation of more than $28 billion, 28,000 times richer than the offer of $1 million on that day. In the process, Infosys has created more than 70,000 well-paying jobs, 2,000-plus dollar-millionaires and 20,000-plus rupee millionaires. A final story: On a hot summer morning in 1995, a Fortune-10 corporation had sequestered all their Indian software vendors, including Infosys, in different rooms at the Taj Residency hotel in Bangalore so that the vendors could not communicate with one another. This customer's propensity for tough negotiations was well-known. Our team was very nervous.

First of all, with revenues of only around $5 million, we were minnows compared to the customer. Second, this customer contributed fully 25% of our revenues. The loss of this business would potentially devastate our recently-listed company. Third, the customer's negotiation style was very aggressive. The customer team would go from room to room, get the best terms out of each vendor and then pit one vendor against the other. This went on for several rounds. Our various arguments why a fair price -- one that allowed us to invest in good people, R&D, infrastructure, technology and training - was actually in their interest failed to cut any ice with the customer.

By 5 p.m. on the last day, we had to make a decision right on the spot whether to accept the customer's terms or to walk out. All eyes were on me as I mulled over the decision. I closed my eyes, and reflected upon our journey until then. Through many a tough call, we had always thought about the long-term interests of Infosys. I communicated clearly to the customer team that we could not accept their terms, since it could well lead us to letting them down later. But I promised a smooth, professional transition to a vendor of customer's choice. This was a turning point for Infosys.

Subsequently, we created a Risk Mitigation Council which ensured that we would never again depend too much on any one client, technology, country, application area or key employee. The crisis was a blessing in disguise. Today, Infosys has a sound de-risking strategy that has stabilised its revenues and profits.
I want to share with you, next, the life lessons these events have taught me.
1. I will begin with the importance of learning from experience. It is less important, I believe, where you start. It is more important how and what you learn. If the quality of the learning is high, the development gradient is steep, and, given time, you can find yourself in a previously unattainable place. I believe the Infosys story is living proof of this. Learning from experience, however, can be complicated. It can be much more difficult to learn from success than from failure. If we fail, we think carefully about the precise cause. Success can indiscriminately reinforce all our prior actions.
2. A second theme concerns the power of chance events. As I think across a wide variety of settings in my life, I am struck by the incredible role played by the interplay of chance events with intentional choices. While the turning points themselves are indeed often fortuitous, how we respond to them is anything but so. It is this very quality of how we respond systematically to chance events that is crucial.
3. Of course, the mindset one works with is also quite critical. As recent work by the psychologist, Carol Dweck, has shown, it matters greatly whether one believes in ability as inherent or that it can be developed. Put simply, the former view, a fixed mindset, creates a tendency to avoid challenges, to ignore useful negative feedback and leads such people to plateau early and not achieve their full potential. The latter view, a growth mindset, leads to a tendency to embrace challenges, to learn from criticism and such people reach ever higher levels of achievement (Krakovsky, 2007: page 48).
4. The fourth theme is a cornerstone of the Indian spiritual tradition: self-knowledge. Indeed, the highest form of knowledge, it is said, is self-knowledge. I believe this greater awareness and knowledge of oneself is what ultimately helps develop a more grounded belief in oneself, courage, determination, and, above all, humility, all qualities which enable one to wear one's success with dignity and grace. Based on my life experiences, I can assert that it is this belief in learning from experience, a growth mindset, the power of chance events, and self-reflection that have helped me grow to the present. Back in the 1960s, the odds of my being in front of you today would have been zero. Yet here I stand before you! With every successive step, the odds kept changing in my favour, and it is these life lessons that made all the difference.
My young friends, I would like to end with some words of advice. Do you believe that your future is pre-ordained, and is already set? Or, do you believe that your future is yet to be written and that it will depend upon the sometimes fortuitous events? Do you believe that these events can provide turning points to which you will respond with your energy and enthusiasm? Do you believe that you will learn from these events and that you will reflect on your setbacks? Do you believe that you will examine your successes with even greater care?

I hope you believe that the future will be shaped by several turning points with great learning opportunities. In fact, this is the path I have walked to much advantage. A final word: When, one day, you have made your mark on the world, remember that, in the ultimate analysis, we are all mere temporary custodians of the wealth we generate, whether it be financial, intellectual, or emotional. The best use of all your wealth is to share it with those less fortunate. I believe that we have all at some time eaten the fruit from trees that we did not plant. In the fullness of time, when it is our turn to give, it behooves us in turn to plant gardens that we may never eat the fruit of, which will largely benefit generations to come. I believe this is our sacred responsibility, one that I hope you will shoulder in time.

Thank you for your patience. Go forth and embrace your future with open arms, and pursue enthusiastically your own life journey of discovery!

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Lohagad, Lonaval, Maharashtra, India






Mumbai bedraggled


Ever seen a blollywood beauty standing under a shower or a waterfall, or getting soaked in rain?

If you haven't, then better do!

Hordes of them - Vayjantimala to Esha Deol trying to look coy yet enjoying the tingling feel of droplets on the skin - quiet like cows in a desert, washing all the ticks off in first seasonal showers.

Yes, Mumbai is like this at the moment.

Water, water, everywhere and still you end up in a bar. (Just Joking, of course!)

I mean, the city is coy and shivering, yet it's confusingly gay. People milling out off local trains, auto rickshaws zooming past you and giving you a bath you never again want to have, Traffic Cop sipping a cup off tea under the teeny weeny roof of a tapri, kids swimming in the middle of road, aunties wringing the edges of their sarees under the downpour and then hurrying along with lesiure, couples entwined with one another under a small umbrella in empty gardens ... I mean people (if at all they come) feel overjoyed when they get a break from office on pretext of municipal warning 'Heavy downpour expected in next 24 hrs', instead of worrying about how to head back home - just the thrill of being a witness to impending doom keps them hanging onto their windows and gates of a local train.

An absurd joi de vivre.

Watch the TV news ,and people are more thrilled in their misery than overawed.

What the hell is happening.?

Well, I am cynic and shall forever complain.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

I
I sipped on tea
An old woman peeked
through the windows
of the coffee house
Old and Haggard
Misery dripped
from the folds of
her wrinkle-ridden face
II
It is tough
to shrug of ghoulish dreams
like habits that cling
and suck every ounce
of self esteem
But the fragrant flowers
that dangled from her braid
and touched my sleepy face
when she bowed down on me
with joy brushed straying strands of hair
and kissed my head
that used to be my wake up call
III
Demons pulled eyelids down
staggering, with flailing hands
tried to stay afloat
through the rancid air
I breathe
Gathered himself
out of fear
to look at the shadow
that appears
when washes his face
Eyes read
sleepless night, shameless day
or just a night of fright
lips sealed
lest the unspoken is said
the secrets unvieled

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Raging bull misses the ball, goes for the kill!

Imagine a suicide bomber about to strike his enemy, when suddenly he realises that he forgot his ammunition at home. What would he do? Don't ask me? Ask Zidane! Beloved Zizou has an answer. Forget everything and just ram your head into your victim! What a tragic way to end a great career! Zizou is poetry in motion, when in full flow. An uninhibited cadence of a melody oh so sweet and soothing. His moves don't begin and end in clumsy thursts of a body trying to defy itself. Instead, like a gymnast floating in vaccum, curling, flipping back and across in a rare impossible symmetry, Zizou is magic! But, it has all came to an end! Madness! Witches working their spell against a legend to seduce him into insanity! He could have won france an imporbable victory. It's Zizou alone who pulled the team together to the very verge of victory, and then pushed France into the depths of defeat. I hope he doesn't lose his head ever again.

Media is what?

- Priyanko Sarkar http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-XSqm3q0_dPf22BD4358GIKI-?cq=1&p=292 Media at its childish peak!! I wonder what has happened to our media these days. Either they don’t seem to find “news” or perhaps they think “tabloid” culture is more important than serious journalism. Today there was a news on IBN 7 showing footage of a girl hugging apna cricket star Mahendra Singh Dhoni. A channel like IBN 7, I thought would cover serious issues that we face in our country and not crazy fan tales. I mean CMON…….IS THAT A NEWS?? Now the channel would defend themselves by saying that they do show such news coz people want to see such sensational stuff. I would suggest them to make a different beat or timeslot to cover such news in a crispy and short way rather than showing their same footage again and again for hours. I wonder if they are running out of news items. WELL this is not the first time any channel has behaved in such a way. Recently our “Big Brother” winner Shilpa Shetty was targeted without reason. The whole Shilpa-Richard act caused rage among the public coz media covered it and showed it on their respective channels for almost a day or perhaps two. I think it is just cultural difference. PDA is quite common and acceptable in western countries. (Well….Richard bhaiyya should have known that “our” media just needs something spicy to make a news out of). PITY PITY… I agree that we Indians are not ready for public display, but harassing common man is something that’s getting too much. Political parties that portray themselves as the savers of Indian culture are simply Hippocratic. Vulgarity and cheapness are few terms that mean different for different people. There is no specific definition to it. Some things can be considered as cheap or vulgar by some people whereas others may think it is perfectly fine. Dumbness reached its peak when a magistrate from Jaipur filed a case against Richard. I hope our media will mature soon and educate people by showing “NEWS” and not stupid tales. Why cant they cover serious issues like Global Warming, Energy conservation etc and educate people GOD SAVE US FROM SUCH PATHETIC JOURNSLISM!! MY RESPONSE - 1) I agree with you on most issues you've diligently filed here. Being a journalist of some note (Amrita Arora's words, not mine) I think you failed to recognise the "commercial" aspect of news .. news has to covered but in a country of rapidly shrinking democracy .. it gets increasingly difficult to bring hard news. The print media (Indian Express and to some extent The Hindu) are still doing the best they can to stand as the fourth estate of the nation, but its going to be difficult to maintain it .. 2) You must also note the efficient handling of cases which would have got buried if the media had not taken it up .. not just jessica lal or manjunath .. even recent cases like alistair pereira and vanzara .. our judiciary seems hell bent on entertaining cases like gere-shetty than these heinous criminal cases .. its not all media's fault then, is it? 3) 24 hr "news" is a hoax .. even bbc admits it .. you cant hv news everyday which leads to trivial issues becoming newsy .. and it has to be done .. the channel bosses need the revenue now, dont they? ... and dont forget .. sometimes trivial issues tend to make great differences in people's life .. like prince who's getting free education thanks to a news channel! 4) The world over .. paparazzi journalism has taken over .. esp in the West .. you should be thankful we havent reached those pitiful levels yet .. although paparazzi is coming to town .. the recent launch of Hello magazine (covering the Liz-Nayyar wedding with 1$ mn rights) and the Abhi-Ash wedding are proofs of this culture .. 5) And lastly, journalists know they're dishing out trash most of the times .. but they're not in a position to "educate" that average middle-class person watching him .. it wouldnt make much sense .. there is a quick saturation point for hard news like rape.. murder .. unethical businesess..fake encounters .. etc etc. .. so he simply "entertains" him .. so that he feels better about his life ..I hope i dont stoop to such levels but if my boss tells me to cover the mad dhoni fan, i dont think i'd have a choice now, would i?

Monday, June 11, 2007

The man called child wailed, when the darkness turned into light... The day blossomed into a wide-eyed sun Burning bright with the fury of a wretched pun. I bring the curtains down and paint a golden ember on the walls, till the shadows stand and dance to a distant call. The lilting cadence of a cukoo's song fills the misty terrains of my mind. They say, the metaphor's gone all wrong, the worst parable of its kind. I fidget and now I am just three hundred years old. Silver carpets beneath my feet, I bask in the millenial cold. Come, let us go... to the golden gates to the hallowed meadows where heaven waits For none.

Heaven and Hell

Heaven and hell are not far but in my heart Paradise was never lost But I chose not to see Just a single twitch of my finger shall twist the fate There is no difference between love and hate The one I loved was 'me' 'You' was what I failed to see Paradigms are lost and formed but why shall I destroy humanity May god fill my heart with one desire drench me in love and douse the fire Let him alone decide who shall live and who shall die Who are you and me - nothing but fragile pieces of eternity...

Showers of joy come in handsful

Being wet all over I crossed the churchgate again... Moving towards the horizon Of blues, greys, reds, and a distant lighthouse - I was drenched by the showers Of eternal Joy That lasted just a minute, Leaving me with a fist full of pain! Drops that Chisel night and day on my lonesome face and Flow down the alleys as wasted tears... Thats the essence of bygone years That's the golden rule... Showers of joy come in handsful!

Legend of the Fangs of the Scorpion and the Friendly Dog

As the train chugged away towards Lonavala, the legend of the friendly dog silently resonated through the coach number SC7. No one in his or her senses would ever believe the anecdote of the friendly dog narrated by one of the roadies on a previous occasion. However, the roadies soon laughed away the dog story as a joke. As the train gathered momentum, the hearts began to beat in rhythm to the joyous rattle and buzz of the train speeding towards its destination. Only a few roadies had been to Lohagad Fort. In fact, hardly anyone knew the exact route beyond Lonavala Railway Station. What a good omen to begin an adventure trip! After getting down at Lonavala Station, the 14 Roadies packed two six seaters to Karla. Barring a few misadventures, all reached Malvali village by 9.00 a.m. At the village, there was no sign of the famous dog. As the legend goes, generations of Malavli dogs have ferried trekkers to and from the mountain in exchange for loving pats and occasional cuddle. What one could see was the famous tail of the scorpion from the village. For the uninitiated, the fort was designed to make the fort look like a scorpion. The fort straddles the top of a mountain and a long ramp like tail juts out of the southern periphery of the fort. Lohagad is one of the very few forts under Shivaji Maharaj, which was never conquered by the enemy. The village rang with the unbridled laughter of the roadies, as they moved along the unpaved winding alleys of this small village. Long stretched of ploughed field welcomed the roadies as the Sun blazed the morning sky in full glory. The sight of the welcoming arms of the mountain on both sides increased the excitement. Roadies then began their long climb towards Lohagad, as it beckoned the world with arrogance and nonchalance. They laughed, they sang and they sweat under the burning sun. Every now and the clouds would come riding the merry breeze and provide the much-needed respite. After two hours of climb on a rocky terrain, drained and exhausted, the group reached a patch of grass, formed by a natural breach into the mountain. It acted as a bridge between two great forts. If you stood on it, you would see vast expanses of the valley on both sides of the mountain. It is an amazing experience. The wind is firm but beautiful, a nice spot to catch some breath and sip on delectable lemonade served by an elderly aunt, who was delighted to serve a thirsty lot of chirpy and jovial youngsters. There it stood, the magnificent Lohagad (Impregnable) Fort. The peculiar design on the walls of the fort is known as Vindhukata (fangs of a scorpion). It is said that Shivaji Maharaj had kept the treasures he looted from Surat in this fort for some period. On the right, there was crevice in the mountain, sculpted by merciless winds in the shape of an elephant’s eye. Six centuries ago, great Maratha warriors and workers from the surrounding villages chose this high plateau as the site for constructing a fort, which could withstand the onslaught of marauding armies consisting of thousands of hostile soldiers. Roadies looked at the fort in awe and moved on, carrying on a march towards the mighty steps that lead to the entrance towards the fort. These huge steps deceive to flatter. They are tougher to climb then the whole trek beginning at the village. However, the sights are amazing. The first glimpse of the neighboring reservoir and the huge circle of small and big mountains is breath taking. Egged on by the winds the roadies continued the climb and entered the fort. There are three gates one after the other. The third gate especially is very exquisite. This gate was constructed in such a way that the gunfire from gates above would reach the enemy at the first gate. The first steps into the main fort area bring in a surge of such excitement that one feels like a mighty conqueror. There were claps of joy as the uphill trek ended in time for lunch. You have to be there to believe it! The view from the top is nothing like you would expect to see in the daily routine of life in Mumbai. It is as if one is swimming in the froth of a humongous coffee mug. Walk on the edge of the fort and there is a straight fall all around. The walls of the fort have been withered down. On all sides, the world exists as insignificant detail. What matters is the surge of the wind and the distant mountains and the huge reservoir, clouds reflected on its surface like the silky strands of hair on an old woman’s face. After finishing lunch, there was a debate over whether the roadies should move on or spend some more time exploring the fort, especially the tail of the fort. Someone at the village had predicted that it would rain at 3.00 p.m. and the dark shadows of bulky clouds over the distant mountains seemed to confirm the prophecy. Arguments and counter-arguments floated across at a rapid pace. Manoj was quite sure, that the return journey would be difficult with rain lashing on all sides. But, fellow roadies seemed to be drunk on a wine from another planet and begged till the president relented and allowed an hour and not more to be spent before we left. The announcement was lapped up with an uproar and thunder of the clouds nearing inch by inch. The wind gathered speed, so did the enthusiasm at the sight of the long tail of the scorpion. Dog was still nowhere in sight. The biggest adventure of the trip waited. One has to climb down 20 feet on the edge of the mountain and there is no room on either side. It is a thin strip of rock that leads towards the tail. As one roadie climbed down, the rest watched with concern and anticipation. It was not easy and, then and there, it was decided that whoever did the climb down would do it at hi or her own risk. Thankfully, sense prevailed and only five roadies managed to climb down, as the clouds were inching closer and closer. Five roadies ran down the ramp, jubilant and eager. Scorpion’s tail was conquered and there was no better adventure to come. That very moment, there was another storm catching up at the climb-down. A group of brazen monkeys joined in the part and latched on to an unattended bag. They tore it apart and made away with the contents. At the other end, at the tip of the scorpion’s tails, when no one expected it, the legendary dog turned up, much to the echoes of surprise and disbelief. Apparently, the dog was busy helping another group of trekkers who had come to get a fill of their share of sights. There is no other experience better than being at the very edge of this end of the fort. It is scary and beautiful! Charming splendor of the scenery around makes you go speechless. Alas, it was time to head back. One wished to spend more time and let the beauty sink in, but the clouds were dangerously close and winds were merciless. So, the roadies ran and ran. The climb back to the fort was tough as the winds began to turn into a storm. There was hardly any time to catch a breath. Wind literally wept everyone off their feet, but roadies held on, huddled together they began a slow trek back. Then, the first shower of the rain lashed hard, like a mother slapping a mischievous kid. Roadies bid adieu to the wonderful fort, tired but reinvigorated with fond memories, enough to last a long time.

Songs of Boredom

Fragile Chores of humdrum Go on endlessly Punctuated by a helpless yawn breed my melancholy Every hapless moment drums up a listless band I see fortune flicker on my empty hand How many storms a slow moving fan can brew when nghitmares lay seige in monstrous hue Motions of stifling anxiety bulid a sea of perilous thoughts Would Noah come to bear the burden of clumsy pile of useless noughts The drops of falling rain explode in a frenzied song Boredom has built a brood in my wavering heart, for long

... to live as a legend!

Let not the winds get a wind, of the secret that smoulders in embers of our passion unbound Let not the waters hum the forbidden song, that we sing Let no flowers steal the fragrance that holds you and me under a mystic spell Lest the whispers set rolling the mills to churn out a flow of a story That's ours, still Destiny plays truant till we reel under the storms - and be dead and violated to live as a legend!

August 05, 2006

'Life's so much fun - I must get a tan under the sun' She cooked pasta at noon I saw a pizza in the moon 'You cranked your shafts too hard' They laugh at a bawdy tale Who throws the answers to the questions one never asks They build a castle a day - With smoke and ash!

August 5, 2006

Caught a cat napping twisting her leg in a dreamy yawn While friends and family yapped! The world crumbles Who has ever seen the time fly by Sleeping on the tatters of history She dreams of Oprah Winfrey "What a thought ..." The door bell rang Heard the post man say "Life is God's gift, better keep it under wraps"