When Free Market is Not Good Enough

I am a supporter of free market and unrestricted competition. It delivers high quality products at low prices. However, there are areas, especially in the service sector, where, a strong regulator is required to ensure a fair deal to the customer. Anyone, who has had a child suffer in school, a dear one in a hospital or has been at the receiving end of an indifferent mobile phone service provider will agree with me. 

SCHOOL:

Once your child gets into that famous school, you cede all your rights to the school management. Whether the child is molested, bullied, taunted, becomes a drug addict or even murdered, the parent has no say whatsoever. Schools are managed by powerful trusts often run by politicians, big business or by ultra-sensitive missionaries. They are not answerable to anyone. The police often sides with them and your grievances are scorned even by other parents until it is their turn to suffer. You have to put up with incompetent teachers, humiliation of your child at their hands and pay up arbitrary fees and charges. Free competition in the market does not help since you just can't take your child to another school. Even if you could, there would be no guarantee that the other school would be any better.

HOSPITALS:

Arguments that hospitals are doing a noble business and that medicare is naturally expensive are hurled at you when you question their extortionist ways. Nobody, except the government, opens a hospital for charity. A hospital is a business just like a superstore or multiplex. Unfortunately, once a dear one of yours is admitted to a hospital and is tethered to life-support, you can't just shop around for a better or cheaper medicare service. Horror stories of extortion, insensitivity and incompetence apart, a hospital is a service provider that keeps you completely in the dark about the treatment of a patient. As to why eight hundred pairs of gloves were used on a non-surgery patient in just seven days, or how a bill of one lakh Rupees is added up for a four-hour intervention on a dengue patient are never explained. You pay up without question, or they wouldn't release the dead body.

The Medical Council of India is a closed society and a private club. There has seldom been any case of an incompetent or a callous doctor being delicensed in India. When the media or an aggrieved person questions the dubious ways of hospitals, arguments like "to err is human", "hospitals are not doing a charity" and surprisingly and simultaneously, "hospitals and doctors are doing a noble job" fly thick and fast.

If a person wants to withdraw his ailing relative and demands a discharge, all life support is immediately disconnected from the patient. The process of discharge starts after this, which may take half a day or more. Meanwhile, the patient goes into further distress. Such practices amount to blackmail and no free market can address this criminality. Only a tough regulator and quick legal action can discipline the recalcitrant in the long run.

The Delhi Govenment has ordered shutdown of a corporate hospital in a first of its kind action. Statements such as this step will lead to a shortage of hospital beds in the Capital and will raise health care costs are made with impunity. Sorry folks, we will bear with a temporary shortage. And, why should there be an increase in costs? Aren't hospitals doing a noble job and would, therefore, refrain from cashing in on this "opportunity"?

CARS (Or other expensive hardware):

Once you buy a car, you have no option, but to bear with the "authorised service centre" for years of poor service, unnecessary tinkering and even fleecing. Behind those swanky showrooms, hide the real face of free-market business, which treats you as a source of never-ending revenue.

REGULATION, CONSUMER PROTECTION AND LEGAL REDRESS:

A child or a patient is not a mobile phone number that can be "ported" to another service provider. On the contrary, even easy portability has failed to discipline indifferent mobile phone service providers in spite of a fiercely competitive market. Consumer courts have become regular legal arena, where complaints can remain unredressed for years through tiers of appellate courts. Intervention to help a sufferer may be needed in a matter of hours. Do we have a mechanism that can deliver that?

Call me Mister, Yo Salesman!

 

I got a call today from a call centre. The caller asked, “Am I speaking with Shubhranshu?”

I said, “No, you are speaking with Mister Shubhranshu.”

The caller was stumped for a few moments. He stuttered, recovered his composure, and said, “Of course, Mr. Shubhranshu.” Then he went ahead in his carefully cultivated monotone, trying to sell me some insurance policy, holiday plan or credit card. I don’t remember what it was, since I had switched off mentally by then. His product had lost the sale before he had even begun his pitch. Not because it was bad, but because his manners were worse.

These call-centre guys and gals are called “executives”. Well, they may be executives on the company payroll, but they are certainly not trained or evolved enough to behave like ones.

I would expect an executive calling me in English to address me as Mister, as ji in Hindi, or as garu or moshai in Telugu or Bangla, respectively. Surely, this is not asking for the moon. It is only asking for a little courtesy, something that ought to come free with every sales pitch.

No, Mr. Executive, I am not your friend, your college buddy, or your long-lost brother. And no, I am not a resident of the United States, where addressing a complete stranger by his first name seems to have become a national preference. You may even have acquired a brand-new American accent, painstakingly drilled into you by some trainer who believes that replacing “How are you, sir?” with “Hey, Shubhranshu!” is the secret sauce of successful selling.

It isn’t.

I may be a small town person, but I know the difference between familiarity and disrespect. And if you want to do business with me, a little respect would be a good place to start. After all, I am the prospective customer, not your childhood chum. The fact that you have my phone number does not mean that we have been formally introduced.

You may have the best hotel discounts, the most comprehensive insurance policy, or the greatest credit card in the history of plastic money, with complimentary lounge access at every airport in the world. You may even throw in a free holiday on Mars, should Elon Musk finally get his act together. But do address me with respect if you want to sell me your wares.

I am quite capable of deciding whether your product is worth buying. I do not need you to teach me informality as a precondition for doing business.

Else, I am not interested. Don’t bother to call me again.

I have put you on the Call-Me-Mister Registry.

Membership of the registry is automatic. There is no annual fee, no lounge access, and absolutely no complimentary upgrades. And once enrolled, you may find it rather difficult to get off the list.

—-ooo—- 

मेरा राज्य बिहार

भारत के प्राचीन देश में मेरा राज्य बिहार

सबसे पहले यहीं बनी थी प्रजातंत्र सरकार

प्रजातंत्र सरकार विश्व की पथप्रदर्शिका

संस्कृति की औ' मानवता की मार्गदर्शिका

यही बिहार का राज्य रहा जो विश्वगुरु कहलाता था

विक्रमशिला और नालंदा, ज्ञान से गहरा नाता था

जब किंतु वे नष्ट हुए, उबर नहीं पाया अबतक

क्लांतिहीन हो गया राज्य जो ज्ञानपुंज का था रक्षक

नये देश ने उत्साहित हो बागडोर सँभाली थी

जैसे ही इस अँधियारे में राह निकलने वाली थी

तभी डँस गया नाग विषैला फिर घेरा अँधियारे ने

सूखा ठूँठ बस बचा जहाँ फूलों की सुंदर डाली थी

छात्र हुए हैं दिशाहीन, शिक्षक कर्त्तव्य से स्खलित हुए

मात-पिता अति चिंतित हैं, संतान-व्यथा से गलित हुए

याद करो मागध, वैशाली और जनक के वैभवकाल

गंगा से सिंचित ये धरती क्यों होती रहती बेहाल

लूट-खसोट और धमकी-बलवे दिनचर्या में आम हुए

अपहरण, फिरौती, बेदख़ली और कितने क़त्लेआम हुए

भ्रमित-भयातुर जन पशुओं की भाँति दुबके बैठ रहे

जातिवाद, लालच, हथियार प्रजातंत्र के दाम हुए

भ्रष्टाचार, निष्कर्म, निरर्थक शासन, कुछ ना होता है

बेबस, मूक नागरिक बस अपनी क़िस्मत को रोता है

भई किसान की भूमि सूखी जो वृष्टि ने आँखें फेरीं

हर ग़रीब और हर किसान क़र्ज़ों का बोझा ढोता है

बुद्ध, महावीर की धरती तनिक शांति को रोती है

मॉं अपने बच्चे की क़िस्मत पर जगती ना सोती है

रक्षक भक्षक बन बैठे, अपनी रोटी हैं सेंक रहे

जनता वहीं चिता से लगकर ख़ाली पेटों सोती है

NO FRILLS, AT WHAT COST?

Are the"no-frills" airlines, who charge you for the snacks and meals on board, really saving any money or simplifying their on-board services? Unlike the standard meal casseroles of a "full-service" airline, they actually offer your meals a la carte, much like first or business class of full-service airlines, hardly a no-frills feature.

This is how it goes:

The air-hostess, pushing the trolley, looks up a printout, "Hmm, 21A, Mr. Gupta Sir?" 

Mr. Gupta has dozed off and wakes up with a start, "Yes?"

"Sir, you have prebooked a veg meal, right?"

"No, I had booked a non-veg meal. There must be a mistake."

"No, Sir! The chart here says veg wonly."

Mr. Gupta loses his cool, "No, I want non-veg wonly."

Air-hostess gives up, "Okay, Sir! Non-veg is fifty rupees extra, but I will get you that."

Mr. Gupta is now happy at the fifty bucks profit he just made, "So, what-what do you have in non-veg?"

"Sir, chicken sandwich and chicken roll."

"What? This is a morning flight. Who eats chicken in the morning? Don't you have omelette?"

The air-hostess is now getting restless. She has spent over five minutes on just one passenger and has not even begun to serve him. Says, "Let me check, Sir."

She rushes to the pantry and comes back, " Sir, we have masala omelette and home-style omelette."

Mr. Gupta is now spoilt for choice, a privilege, which only business class passengers enjoy. Exclaims, "Get me masala omelette, then! No, no, wait! Who wants masala in the morning? Get me home-style omelette."

He is served and the hostess looks up the chart once again, "21D, Mr. Subramanian, Sir?"

Mr. Subramanian is deep in his thoughts. She says again, a little louder this time, "MR. SUBRAMANIAN, SIR!"

Mr. Subramanian is jolted out of his meditation and shouts, "Wh.., What happened?"

Air-hostess is taken aback, "S.., Sir! You are a corporate traveller. So, you are entitled to a complimentary snack. What would you like Sir?"

Mr. Subramanian is smiling on getting a free snack, "Get me medu vadai and sambhar, please!"

"Sir, we have only poha and vegetable pasta." She regretfully says. 

Mr. Subramanian's smile turns into a scorn, "Is poha even a snack? And, who wants pasta just before a meeting? No, no, I want medu vada, or idly wonly."

The air-hostess almost jumps out of her boots, "Idly, Sir? Yes, we do have idly. But, no sambhar, Sir. I can give you pudina chatni instead."

Mr. Subramanian, being a gentleman, surrenders, "Wokay, get me idly and pudina chatni, then."

He is served and the meals cart moves on.

Mr. Subramanian harks, "Madam, Do you have filter coffee?"

The air-hostess ignores the call, more due to being called madam than filter coffee not being available on board.

Then someone, who has not prebooked a meal, calls out, "Could I have a chicken roll please?"

"Sir, that would be three hundred rupees. If you had prebooked, you could have got it for just two hundred and seventy-five rupees."

"Okay, I will pay." the chastised and financially devastated passenger says.

"Sir, you need to give me three hundred rupees change." The seller of wares says.

"What do you mean by three hundred rupees change? I could understand if it was two hundred and seventy five." But, he fishes out three hundred from his wallet and the air-hostess smiles in gratitude.

And, this goes on and on, from either end of the aisle, two trolleys being pushed by four air-hostesses. The path to the toilets is blocked nearly for the entire duration of the two-hour flight.

Have they really done some calculations of their real costs of serving a la carte meals, a la business class, on payment? Wouldn't it be much simpler and far cheaper to just serve a single type of free meal to all passengers and earn some goodwill in return as well?

अनुस्वार की महिमा

आपने उर्दू ज़बान में नुक़्ते के हेर-फेर से होने वाले अनर्थ के बारे में सुना होगा। हिंदी में अनुस्वार के प्रयोग में वैसी ही सावधानी वांछित है। हिंदी भाषा के विशारद आपको बताएँगे कि किसी को बहुवचन में पुकारने में अनुस्वार लगाना अशुद्ध है। जैसे बच्चों को पुकारना है तो आपको कहना चाहिये, "बच्चो!" न कि "बच्चों!" ग़ौर करें कि सही शब्द में अनुस्वार नहीं लगाया गया है। यह मात्र वर्त्तनी का दोष नहीं है, व्याकरण का है।

यदि आप अपनी बिल्डिंग के निवासियों को सोसाइटी की किसी सभा में बुलाएँगे तो कहेंगे, "भाइयो और बहनो! कल चार बजे की सभा में अवश्य आइयेगा!" न कि "भाइयों और बहनों!" यह अलग बात है कि आप कई महिलाओं को बहन कहना नहीं चाहते। फिर आपका संबोधन होगा, महिलाओ और सज्जनो!" क्या कह आपने? कुछ लोग तो सज्जन कहे जाने योग्य ही नहीं हैं? चलिये छोड़िये, आप कौनसी बात ले बैठे? फिर उन्हें "पुरुषो" से पुकार लीजिये। अब पुरुष से भी कोई समस्या है क्या?

आशा है आप भाषा की यह यह शुद्धता समझ गये होंगे। अब यदि कोई ज़ोर से आपको पुकारे, "मित्रों!" चाहे सड़क चलते पुकार ले, या टीवी-रेडियो पर, तब आप क्या करेंगे? चुपचाप इस भावुकता भरी पुकार को व्याकरण का प्रमाद समझकर अनसुना कर दीजिये और वहाँ से खिसक लीजिये। इसी में आपकी भलाई है। अपना बटुआ भी संभाल लीजियेगा। कोई अनहोनी हो जाये तो यह मत कहियेगा कि मैंने व्याकरण का पाठ ठीक से नहीं पढ़ाया।

GREEN ACTIVISM or THE UNMAKING OF MAKE-IN-INDIA

During my interaction with a Chamber of Industries in Karur (Tamil Nadu) I came across the President of the Truck and Bus Body Builders' Association, people who build buses and lorries on bare chassis.

I asked the gentleman how his business was doing. He said that the business was down. Upon being asked the reason an alarming story of de-industrialisation and de-employment unfolded like layers of an onion.  It went on like this:

1. Bus body building was down since fewer buses were being brought into circulation.

2. The demand for buses had fallen since the number of intra-city travellers and commuters from nearby villages had come down.

3. The number of commuters had come down since the textile and garment industry in the Coimbatore-Tiruppur-Erode-Karur area was in decline.

4. The textile industry was in decline since they were being priced out in the market.

5. Their prices had gone up since they now had to send their fabric to Rajasthan for dying, which added to their costs. Trucking from Tamil Nadu to Rajasthan and back, attendant handling costs and managerial time was pushing them out of business.

6. They were forced to send the cloth all the way to Rajasthan since the TN State Pollution Control Board decided, one fine day, that the dying industry in the world famous textile belt of the State was a polluting industry. All the dying units were forced to shut down almost overnight sending thousands of labourers into unemployment and misery.

It appeared that most states in India were shutting down textile dying industry on account of pollution. They seemed to ignore that dying was an essential activity. Government's intervention was required to ensure that it was done in environment-friendly ways and not to shut down the industry.

I asked the people around what they would do when Rajasthan also shut down its dying industry, which was eventually inevitable given the shortsightedness of our government agencies, which increasingly work more like activists than enablers.

They said, "We will stop manufacturing, import Chinese or Bangladeshi fabric and trade in it." 

So, the writing on the wall in Tamil Nadu is clear - a few lakh artisans will lose their jobs and their families will be thrown into penury. It may happen in the short span of a few years. Since factories will close down, they will also have surplus electricity. So, they can also shut down some power plants making the air even cleaner and create some more joblessness. 

Soon, the artisans will either migrate to menial labour or, in any case, lose their traditional skills due to disuse. Our economic slavery to China will be complete. But, we will be able to breathe air as healthy as that in Switzerland and drink water as clean as that from Himalayan springs. 

CHAMBER vs CHAMBER

"See me in my office chamber!" Haven't we heard this statement often in government offices? Elsewhere a simple "see me in my office" would suffice, But a babu is more specific. It is his office chamber, no less.

Such qualification of the location is necessary. His office is either the entire building or a floor or a wing on a floor with all its broken furniture, unkempt surroundings, beetle-juice stains, gossiping employees and strewn paper and files. But the officer's office chamber is an oasis in a desert, with split air-conditioners, polished desk, swanky chairs, a PC, a multifunction printer that often performs no function, a laptop kept casually open to impress, a few English newspapers to keep the sahib busy and what have you. All behind a hermetically sealed door to keep the filth out.

What is a chamber anyway? Ask a municipal worker what he understands by a chamber and he will tell you that it is a manhole that is used for inspecting and cleaning the underground sewage gutter. Yes, it has all the features of a sahib' chamber - it has a door or a cover, it is insulated from its surroundings and has local climate control as well. As for the contents and the occupant, well .. ..

Why the Fax Machine Refuses to Die

The fax machine is now oh-so-old-fashioned! With electronic communication, such as email, workflow systems and collaborative platforms becoming commonplace, who would use the facsimile anymore? The answer is, government offices. The fax machine is basically a super high speed Speedpost, which sends a document in a few minutes against a day or two. Does it result in speedier working? Why do we need the printed paper out of the fax machine anyway, if we can print out an email and use it the same way? This has intrigued me for long.

In recent times I, as most of other Sarkari Babus, have been receiving letters through four separate channels, viz. the WhatsApp, email, Fax and Regular Post. The sender gets a letter typed out by his PA, takes a photo with his/her smartphone and sends it pat to the recipients in an instant. Sometimes the PA does the photography too. The sender expects a quick reply by “return WhatsApp”. But he is not sure if the receiver is responsible enough. So, he sends an email, then a fax and then again, the very same paper by surface mail. Then again, he calls up the recipient on phone and asks him if he has received WhatsApp, email and fax.

Why doesn’t a simple email work in the government office? The reason is that a government file understands only paper. So, whether it is a WhatsApp or an email attachment, it must be printed and “placed on file”. Fax is a friendly device since it gives a paper, ready to file. The letter or the document is placed on the “file side” or “letter side” then it is serially numbered. The clerk “puts up” the file to the sahib with his “noting” on the “noting side”. The clerk adds no value, except link some older correspondence placed earlier in the file. But “put up” he must. Without a file “duly” put up, the sahib is crippled. He can’t just pick up a letter and act on it. He must “pass his order” on the noting side and noting side alone. The noting side is where the government speaks.

In spite of multiple exhortations, we Babus have not taken to modern ways of working. The main reason is not our fear of technology. It is our inability to change the way a file is handled in a typical sarkari office. The file has a letter side and a noting side, both linked by manual referencing, “please see para A at F/119 and previous noting of 12-7-16 at ns/12” and so on. This is not amenable to computerisation and workflow. A workflow is efficient if it is linear, with as little branching-off enroute as possible. We must therefore design a workflow, which does not mirror the archaic file system. It must work efficiently from “desk to desk” or user to user. There will probably be no act of "putting up" by a clerk. Referencing to earlier documents should be automatic with hyperlinks and embedding. It requires that all new files be created online, the existing ones being closed as they outlive their purpose.

The fax machine must die. WhatsApp, as an official document handling medium, must die too. Sending documents by WhatsApp may appear a tech savvy act, but it is worse than a fax as there is very little you can do on that small screen. Sending letters by email is passé too, it still has to be printed and placed on the same archaic file.

A good workflow, therefore, requires that the documents be created online, not scanned or photographed. Natively created documents are easy to search and link. There will be no place for Office Superintendents and Section Officers. The Bada Sahib will have to learn how to type and read documents on a screen. There will be no opportunity for dictating a letter to the PA and asking the peon to fax it to the Head Quarters.

We must have a good computerised workflow system for collaborative working, nothing less.

Are we up to it? Not yet, I am afraid.

Airlines Khap Panchayat

Airlines have taken things a bit too far this time. In the manner of khap panchayats or rogue trade unions they have ganged up to bar a Member of Parliament from flying. It is sad that no airline has abstained from this cartel-like behaviour.

The traveller, as reported, had created a scene at the airport. Same reports also say that he flung a printer down, but there are no reports of any attack on an airline staffer. Misbehaviour, if any, at the Airport should be dealt under airport rules or under laws on vandalism, assault etc., but not by airlines rules.

The traveller had not even been issued a boarding pass. Merely buying a ticket doesn't make him a flyer. For being a flyer, he should be inside the aircraft. If misbehaviour at the check-in counter puts one on the no-flyer list, we can extend this argument to absurd limits - an argument with an airline porter over wages, an argument or misbehaviour over excess baggage, a scuffle in the car parking lot with an airline staff or a fight with him in the vegetable market.

The airlines have got emboldened by the way the earlier case was handled. But, that was an act of misbehaviour and assault INSIDE the aircraft, hence airlines rules applied. If every service provider starts putting customers on no-service lists, I don't know what the laws of the land would be used for.

I do not agree with the airlines this time.

साईकिल और मैनेजमेंट

एक सज्जन, उतावले से, परेशान से, सड़क पर दौड़े चले जा रहे थे। दाहिने हाथ में साईकिल का हैंडल पकड़े खींच रहे थे, दूसरे हाथ में एक पट्टेवाला डब्बा झूल रहा था जो बार-बार उनके घुटने से टकराता और वे उसे कोसते। कंधे पर एक काला बैग लटक रहा था जो बार-बार सरकता था और वे महाशय अपना बायाँ हाथ पूरा ऊपर उठाकर बैग को कंधे पर वापस चढ़ा रहे थे। सज्जन बुरी तरह हाँफ़ रहे थे, माथे पर पसीना चमक रहा था जिसे वे बायें हाथ की आस्तीन से रह-रह कर पोछ लेते थे।

मैं उनके बग़ल से अपने स्कूटर पर गुज़रा तो उनकी परेशानी देखकर मैंने स्कूटर की गति धीमी कर ली। थोड़ी देर तक मैं उन सज्जन के समानांतर चलता रहा, पर उन्होंने अपनी बदहवासी में मेरी ओर नज़र भी नहीं डाली।

आख़िर जब मुझसे उनकी परेशानी और नहीं देखी गई, तब मैंने पूछ ही लिया - भाई साहब, आप क्यों इतने परेशान दिख रहे हैं और कहाँ दौड़े चले जा रहे हैं?

वे बोले - दफ़्तर को देर हो रही है। दस बज गये, लगता है आज बड़े साहब से फिर डाँट सुननी पड़ेगी। 

मैंने पूछा - आपकी साईकिल ख़राब हो गई है क्या?

वे बोले - नहीं, क्यों?

मैंने पूछा - फिर आप साईकिल पर बैठ क्यों नहीं जाते, जल्दी पहुँच जाइयेगा।

सज्जन ने मेरी तरफ़ अजीब निगाहों से देखा, जो कह रही थीं ,"अजीब अहमक है, इतना भी नहीं समझता?" फिर बोले - साईकिल पर बैठने का टाईम किसे है?

हम मैनेजर लोग इसी उहापोह में फँसे रहते हैं। प्लानिंग का टाईम किसे है? अरे, ट्रेनिंग में क्यों पैसा और समय ख़राब करना? सब कुछ फटाफट जो करना है। बस साईकिल पकड़ी और दौड़ पड़े!

Requiem for Lal Batti (लाल बत्ती का शोक)

जब से उजड़ा है सरकारी वाहन का सिंदूर
ग़ायब नेता अधिकारी के चेहरे का है नूर
चेहरे का है नूर बड़ी मायूसी छाई
हाय कहॉं है रश्मि का रथ, कहॉं है कोहेनूर!

जब नेता जी कभी निकलते थे पिक्चर बाज़ार
छँटे रास्ते की सब भीड़ मिले सलाम हज़ार
मैडम जी की किटी पार्टी की रौनक़ भी तभी बने
जब वे आवें लाल बत्ती की गाड़ी भईं सवार

सरकारी साहब के बच्चे क्रिकेट खेलने जाएँ
या स्कूल के टीचर औ' बच्चों पर रौब जमाएँ
लाल घूमती बत्ती जब गाड़ी पर चकमक करती
क्लब रेस्तराँ होटल में जमकर डिस्काउंट पाएँ

करें पार्किंग मनमर्ज़ी की, ट्राफिक सिग्नल जंप करें
नहीं कभी जुर्माना होना, नहीं कभी चालान भरें
बिना लाइसेंस के भी बाबालोग घुमाते गाड़ी हैं
आम आदमी, बाक़ी ट्राफिक, फुटपथिये सम्मान करें

लेकिन जबसे बत्ती छिन गई मन है बड़ा उदास
वी आई पी ठप्पे के बिन जग ना आए रास
टोल पार्किंग देना भारी, गति जीवन की धीमी भई
चौराहे पर ठुल्ला रोके, मन में छाये त्रास

लाल बत्ती क्या भई तिरोहित मित्र सहेलियॉं व्यंग्य करें
नौकर-चाकर, माली और चपरासी ज़्यादा तंग करें
आसमान से गिरे अचानक कठिन धरा पर मन आहत
कैसे मैडम, साहब, नेता आम-जनों का संग करें

हे प्रभु मेरा सब हर लो, हर लो दौलत धन
मेरा घर, सब रिश्ते, शोहरत सब तुमको अर्पण
(जीवन सूना, व्यर्थ है लगे है, वाहन लगे कबाड़)
पर मोटर की बत्ती लाल लौटा दो, भगवन्!
                     ---०००---

My Lesson From the Gymnasium

Last few weeks of training in a gymnasium has taught me a few things about life and management.

1. Everyone needs motivation. I always thought that CEOs or Senior Executives did not need external motivation. Their position and responsibilities are enough to keep them charged. But, it feels good when the gym instructor tells me, "Yes, you can do it. Come on! Now, that is a good boy!" Yes, he calls me a boy and I feel elated when he gives me those small bits of praise. And, I get energised to go the extra bit - a few more pull-ups, extra leg curls, some more weight on the bar or a few more stretches.

2. Rest is a chimera. When he tells me to lie down on a mat I mistakenly think that he wants me to relax. But, he has something else in store - floor exercises. He never had any thoughts to let me relax. I often feel that the guy cheats; says that I can relax and then begins a new gruelling session.

3. Work can be relaxing sometimes, or most of the times. After a gruelling workout, the treadmill or the exercycle feels like relaxation! It was quite a chore earlier for me to walk on the treadmill for even ten minutes. But, once I have worked on the stretch targets given by my gym trainer and when I feel like I would drop dead, he tells me, "Now, you can do the treadmill for five minutes!" O! What a relief these words bring to me. Mere treadmill? Thank you, Master! Even a six kmph trot on the treadmill feels like a good spell of rest.

So, friends! Don't feel small if you secretly crave that pat on your back. And, do give one to those who silently work for you. Also remember, those stretch targets never hurt anyone - just give your people (or take for yourselves) an occasional break with some light assignments; a vacation can be taken but rarely.