In the Land of the Rising Sun

Pawan Verma

There was a time in the history of Asia, when, even though the Sun rose in the East, the light came from the South. The light that enriched the souls of millions of Indians since the 6th century BC, travelled from the South of Asia along the Silk route via China and Korea to the land of the rising Sun, during the Nara period (710-794) and illuminated the hearts and minds of the people in Japan with Gautam Buddha’s preaching of Non-violence and Nirvana. Today, while the Sun continues to rise in the East, the light also comes from the East only. The modern concepts of Quality, Innovation, Just-in-time, Kaizen, are all coming from the land of the rising Sun and enriching lives in India and across the globe.

I could not help reflecting upon the long historical and cultural relationships between the two great civilizations during my recent visit to Japan. The occasion was the Board meeting of our Company in Tokyo which led our Board members and senior Company officials to visit the Head Quarters of one of our promoters, the 110 year old Dai-ichi Life Insurance Co. of Japan.

A first look at the city of Tokyo is mesmerizing. Not the tall buildings and the aesthetic structures alone, but the cleanliness, the public discipline and the punctuality that pervades the entire spectrum of public life. You may try, but will not be able to find a trace of dust on a car or even on the roads. Buildings look as if they had been painted just yesterday. Taxi drivers may not know English, but they are invariably courteous and helpful.

Back to the Dai-ichi’s Head Quarters, what strikes most is the sense of discipline and the respect for time that has become part of the cultural ethos of the entire nation. Our morning meeting with the President of Dai-ichi Life takes place in the majestic conference hall overlooking the Royal Palace. The 20-minute meeting starts just in time and in spite of all the exchange of pleasantries and the business discussions; it is made sure that it ends well in time. Each event whether an official meeting or a lunch or a sight-seeing programme, is immaculately planned and skillfully executed. Quite refreshingly, the whole approach is more functional than ornamental and it runs across the entire organizational hierarchy. The icing on the cake is the superb hospitality and the high degree of modesty and humility that is characteristic of the nation and all its people.

The entire experience generates a feeling of happiness as well as a sense of loss. Happiness on seeing a nation limited by land mass and lack of natural resources, getting over its limitations and rising to the pinnacle of glory by sheer discipline, dedication and commitment of its people. A sense of loss on our own unrealized potential. Our professional interactions only reinforce the fact that we Indians match up to the best in the world in our professional knowledge and expertise. The variety of our professional exposure and our expertise in creating order out of chaos, can be a matter of other’s envy and our own pride. We can be as proud of our grass-root innovations called Jugaad as the Japanese are of their concept of continuous process improvement called Kaizen. If only we had the discipline, dedication and commitment of the Japanese society, we would have been leading the world today.

Finally, from the land of the rising sun, we are back to the land of the rising sons. My normal routine does try to overpower me. But there remains a strong urge to learn from the experience and exposure and bring about the much needed change in myself as well as in our environment to realize our full potential as a company as well as a nation. No doubt, the journey to a thousand mile starts with the first step. I have taken the first step. Are you coming along?

It is Official

Pawan Verma

MODERN TIMES are indeed complex. People who spend hours looking for work spend hours looking at it, once they get the job. In some cases this infatuation is so strong that the thin line dividing home and office, work and leisure is completely blurred. It was just the other day that my neighbor, a government employee, was sitting at the breakfast table, engrossed in the morning newspaper. As he asked for yet another cup of coffee, his wife shouted back, “what’s wrong with you? Look at the time. Are you not going to office today?” “Office?”, said my startled neighbor, “I thought I was in the office itself.”

A study of both the government sector and the public sector management would reveal one common inadequacy – they do not recognize talent. In both these sectors there are umpteen number of people whose talents are so rich and diverse that it makes them consider their routine jobs dull and drab and look for alternative channels of creativity. This realization dawned upon me a few years ago when I was interviewing some of our employees for promotion. When I asked one young girl if she had any exceptional talents, she was quite forthcoming in mentioning her achievements in solving crossword puzzles and slogan-writing contests. I interrupted her to say that I was talking about something which could be done during office hours. She was vehemently reassuring, “Believe me, sir, it was all during office hours only.”

And then there are people who claim to work for those who work for their institution. They are the conscience-keepers of the institution. They would not mind exploiting the management in order to prevent the management from exploiting them. If in their busy schedule, they forget to avail of even small work-breaks, it is because of their inherent belief that work is the refuge of people who have nothing better to do. The entire Indian working class owes its gratitude to them for the pioneering idea that pension could start even before retirement.

The greatest invention of today is – tomorrow. I am sure it must have been done either by a government official, or a public sector executive. For them one tomorrow is worth many todays. They would do anything to avoid thinking and expect you to do so as well. Consider, for example, the question on a job application form of a government office: “Have you or any of your relatives ever committed suicide?” But what is important is that they are happy within the empire built by them. As somebody who hopped over from the private business to a police job, remarked, “The hours are satisfactory, the pay is good and best of all, the customer is always wrong.”

Every new day brings home to me the realization that my education of the government and public sector is incomplete. Their agenda is still unfinished as I discovered while talking to a friend who works for a government software project. With vision in his eyes and jingle in his voice, he said to me, “We have developed a computer that’s almost human.” “You mean it can think like humans,” I said. “No” was his reply, “but when it makes a mistake, it can put the blame on another computer.”

(First Published in The Hindustan Times, Edit page, dated 14.12.1999)

Woman in Love

Pawan Verma

SHE WAS undoubtedly in love. There was an unmistakable wistfulness in her eyes and passion in her face as she talked of him. Her voice was full of emotion and she seemed to be completely possessed by the intensity of her feelings. And as I saw her skin glow with radiance, for a moment I thought it was ‘Dove’. But no, my wife said, it was decidedly love.

I knew that there is a certain madness in love and that it makes a deewana of an otherwise normal human being. But that it could happen to her at this stage in life, was difficult to believe. The mother of two school-going children, she looked far from the picture of a lady torn between love and life. She could beat any teenager in the depth and display of her passions. As she came to our house, introduced by a common friend, she kept on talking of her new-found love, his likes and dislikes, how sweetly he sings and how beautifully he dances with her and, above all, how lovingly he calls her ‘Suzie’, an endearment for Suzata.

Her husband, a renowned surgeon, is too busy a person healing others to take care of the loneliness in her life. He is blissfully unaware that there is someone else demanding her attention and that he is no longer at the centre-stage in her life. Her daughters are also too busy with their own studies to take note of the emotional upheaval in their mother’s life.

Out to cultivate a relationship with the family, my wife called on her one winter afternoon. Our lady was knitting a sweater for the new hero in her life. She had attempted at least half-a-dozen patterns from the design-book, but was far from being contented with the outcome. Over a cup of tea, she kept on talking about her new experience in love – her passion for him, his daily routine, his food habits and preferences, and so on. My wife came back home more amused and enlightened than ever before about the futility of cultivating our lady-in-live.

As days passed by, we almost forgot about Suzata and her love, till the day I saw her in the supermarket. She was buying a pullover for her darling love.

I was amused at the heap of pullovers stocked on the counter and the frustration writ large on the face of the salesgirl. Our lady was rejecting one sweater after the other. In some she didn’t like the design, in others she didn’t approve of the colour or pattern.

Finally, she selected one which could meet her taste in colour and shade, pattern and design. But as she continued to be doubtful about the correct size, the frustrated salesgirl suggested to her:

“Madam, why don’t you bring your dog here? We will give him the size that exactly fits him.”

“Oh, no, dear! Try to understand”, she said persuasively, “I want to give him a surprise.”

(First Published in Hindustan Times, Edit page, dated 29.06.1999)

Insured -----for Laughs

Pawan Verma

BEFORE I joined the life insurance industry, I had always believed that life insurance was a serious subject. For the simple reason that although we call it life insurance, we always deal with death and disabilities, trauma and accidents.

I discovered very soon that there was a lighter side to this otherwise serious business as well. On deputation to one of our overseas establishments on the very first day at office, I had a letter on my table for signature. Addressed to a customer who had just been insured for a big sum, it read, “It gives us immense pleasure to inform you that proposal for insurance has been accepted. The first premium under the policy has been adjusted by us and we note that the future premiums will be paid by the widows and orphans.”

Leaving aside the crudity of the message, I was wondering whether the life insurance industry in developed countries had moved so much ahead as to take as to take just one premium and leave the rest to the widows and orphans to pay! It was only when I demanded an explanation from the office assistant that I learnt that our customer was the Chief Executive of the Widows and Orphans’ Society, which had taken insurance on the life of its employee and was going to pay the future premiums.

The incident turned out to be only the beginning of the shape of things to come. As it happened one afternoon, when I was about to leave the office after a busy day, the telephone rang. There was a lady on the other side, saying in a rather concerned and nervous tone that she had just given birth to twins. She was enquiring if it would have any impact on her life insurance policy. Unable to hear her clearly because of a disturbed line, I asked her, “Will you repeat it, madam?” She was firm and decisive, “Not at all, Sir, if I can help it.”

It is not that the other side of insurance, that is, the non-life insurance, has any less life in it. The story goes that one wealthy lady, before going on a trip to Europe, got her entire wardrobe insured. After arriving in London, she found one of her gowns missing. So she sent a message to her insurance company, “Gown lifted in London”. The smart manager unwilling to entertain the claim immediately shot back, “Madam, what do you think our policy covers?”

What is interesting is that there is a lot of synergy generated between these two sides of insurance being managed by two different corporations in India. They immensely contribute to each other’s business. This is beautifully illustrated by the story of the rich farmer whose tractor was stolen. Since the tractor was insured, the insurance company’s manager came to help him fill in the claim forms.

As a value addition to the service provide by the company, the manager also offered the farmer another tractor, suggesting that he could use the same till the claim was processed and he could get the money to buy another one.

The farmer was too happy with the services offered. He said to the manager, “Well, if that is the way your company does its business, why don’t you insure my wife as well?”

(First Published in Hindustan Times, Edit Page, dated 14.02.2000)

Double Entry

Pawan Verma

I have always been fond of handling figures. Figures of speech, I mean. But when it comes to handling accounting figures I draw a complete blank. Some 15 years ago, when I was recruited for my present managerial job, I was one of the few in a group of 60, who constantly challenged the patience of our accounts professor – a chartered accountant of repute – who had taken upon himself the task of teaching us the “Double Entry” accounting system. We were not sure whether it was his way of showing his superiority or a source of sadistic pleasure, but every time we would say an account was to be debited, he would insist otherwise and would end up saying “I can take a horse to water but…..”

I sincerely believe that accounting is a simple job made difficult by chartered accountants to keep themselves in business. Old-time accountants say that there used to be the ‘Single Entry’ accounting system earlier. But people started learning it very fast. Hence the “Double Entry” system was developed by some chartered accountants.

Time rolled on and our five months’ theoretical training was followed by another five months of rigorous on-the-job training. Back to the college for a two-month refresher course, things were no better. So, in his final lecture, the professor condescendingly told me, “Don’t worry Pawan, I will give you a clue. Whenever you are faced with the question whether to ‘credit’ an account or ‘debit’ it, decide the matter from your common sense and then act against it. I’m sure, you will never be wrong.”

“If that was so, why did you waste your one previous year teaching me accounts?” I responded. But not to be outwitted, he was ready with an answer. “How else Pawan, would you have known the limits of your mental powers?”

Well, every dog has his day and I had mine. It was our farewell function at the training college. The chairman graced the occasion. Our accounts professor was again at his best. This time giving us a lecture on “Managers in shop floor situations.” He also managed the questions at the end, in his familiar witty style. Unfortunately for me, my first question was just cut out for him. His witty reply not only floored me completely but evoked laughter and applause from the audience as well. But determined to avenge myself, I was not to be outwitted this time. So, very innocently I got up and said, “Sir, I forget the second question you told me to ask.”

There was a deafening silence followed by roaring laughter. For the first time I had found the witty professor at his wits’ end. I don’t know how much was debited or credited to my career-account, but I was sure I had settled my accounts with the professor.

From the Mouths of Babes

Pawan Verma

There are many advantages of having children. They are a great help in old age and they help you attain it faster as well. Quite often, they help you learn the virtues of patience. They also help you realise that obedience to children is the best insurance against developing insanity.

Any experienced parent will tell you that there are two difficult periods during the parenthood. First, when your children start asking questions that have answers. The second period comes even earlier: when your children start asking questions that have no answers. In the search for an answer, you certainly can’t draw from your realm of reasoning.

As a parent, I realised this fact of life when our second child was born. It was one of those intimate family moments when myself, my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter Shweta, and my wife Neelima with new born baby in her lap, were sitting together choosing a name for the newborn.

As we were rejecting one name after the other, my wife came out with the name ’Harsh’. But before I could endorse the suggestion I discovered the horror and disbeliefs in my daughter’s face. As a sweet little girl who had started going to school and had just added up a few English words to her vocabulary, she instantly protested, “Dad, shall we call him horse?” No amount of reasoning would convince her, for the simple reason that this new word was just not there in her dictionary.

Years later, when the infant baby had grown into a cute little three-year-old, my reasoning was put to test once again. One evening, as the entire family was sitting around the study table, this young man suddenly startled up.

As I lifted my eyes from the book, I saw a twinkle in his eyes. Excited, he announced in the ‘Eureka’ style, “You know, I can switch off the lights sitting right here.” Amused I asked him to show me how. He closed his eyes and said, “See, now the lights are off.” I told him that I could also do the same, and closing my eyes I announced that the lights were off. But the young man, with his eyes wide open protested vehemently that they were not.

As he was quick to take the confirmation of those around him, I only realised what a fool I was making of myself in the eyes of my son. Once again, no amount of reasoning could convince him that by closing his eyes he could not put off the lights.

These small incidents in life have given me a lot of belated wisdom to face the world. For, as a public sector executive, when I am faced with a similar kind of logic and perception coming from my unions, I do not get agitated. I do not get perplexed when they open the windows and yet do not see the light outside. Their demands on the management quite often remind me of the story of the old man who was reading a newspaper in a park. A young man came up and sat near him for a while.

Moments later, the young man asked him if he could lend his specs for a while. After the old man had parted with the specs, the young man came out with another request, “I don’t think without the specs the newspaper has any utility for you. Can you give it to me?”

Managing the Boss

Pawan Verma

IT COULD very well have been a scene from an Amitabh Bachchan movie – the big droning fly moving from one bald executive head to the other, and everyone patting his head turn by turn in the process of swatting at the fly. The only difference was that it was happening live during a high-profile business conference being attended by the Chairman and the Managing Director of a big Japanese company. The Chairman and other senior executives of an Indian public sector undertaking were the hosts. Moments after the conference had begun, and the guest chairman had started addressing the audience, the big droning fly got into its act. Possibly, it was imported on to the dais through the bouquets of flowers presented to the guests. As it continued squatting from one bald head to the other, it was providing enough entertainment to the audience. In between, it would hide behind the bouquets, restoring peace and order on the dais. And again, it would come out of its hiding with its resonant music and declare its preference for the execute heads.

Possibly emboldened by its short-duration successes, the fly this time had decided to take a longer flight. But obviously it had run out of luck – as it elicited an urgent chorus from the executives present on the dais, calling the waiter for help. But before the waiter could come to their rescue, the lone Japanese got up, took out his handkerchief, caught the fly in his third attempt and handed it over to the waiter.

There was one more small little thing that caught people’s attention during the conference. As the managing director of the Japanese company was delivering his speech, his chairman got up, came to the audience and took a photograph of his managing director. The incidents reveal a lot about the way the Japanese management system functions. Not only are they less cadre-conscious, but they take pride in doing things themselves rather than merely ordering others about the same. A closer look demonstrates that hard work and quality of results are the hallmark of their system.

It is not that our own system of management here in India is less demanding, although in a different way. Here you must treat your boss as god, although you may treat a subordinate like a dog. The system, however, is so that it helps you develop an instant liking for your boss: if you don’t, you get fired. But having said that, it needs to be acknowledged that within the system, it is easy to manage the boss – just listen to him. You must not talk while he is interrupting you and if he needs your opinion, rest assured, he will not hesitate in giving it to you.

I remember the story of a friend of mine who was not fully initiated into the system yet. As he seemed to raise an eyebrow during one of the regular counselling sessions, his boss shouted at him,

“How dare you argue with me, young man”?

"I haven’t said a word, sir,”  the young man protested.

“You were listening in a very aggressive manner”, said the boss in the final judgement.

(First Published in Hindustan Times Edit Page dated 05.10.1999)