69. WHY HIS WINGS WERE CLIPPED? (1998)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 69 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

In my room, I heard a screaming female voice from the banking hall. Promptly, I came out and found a frail petite woman shouting furiously at the top of her voice at Deepak, the Fixed Deposits Assistant. The poor man looked highly embarrassed. He was apologizing to her repeatedly, but she would not relent. The Section Incharge also stood there, watching helplessly.

As the head of the branch, I approached her and tried to calm her down, but would she pay any heed to me. She was a local school teacher who had come to collect her Fixed Deposit Receipts. She enquired from the Fixed Deposits Assistant whether the receipts were ready. He smiled courteously and quipped informally, "Yes, of course, Ma'am. I am so scared of you. I wouldn't ever delay your work."  This comment enraged her, and she exploded, "What do you mean you are scared of me? Am I a witch or a demon? How dare you say such things to a customer?"

With great difficulty, I managed to cool her temper and sent her back.

I recalled meeting Deepak, the Fixed Deposits Assistant, for the first time when I had joined the branch. He was a tall young man with a polite demeanour. My predecessor had introduced him as an asset to the branch, and I soon discovered he was right. Deepak handled the Fixed Deposits desk efficiently, and his work was always impeccable. He had a positive outlook, and his colleagues admired his dedication and efficiency.

After the angry customer left, I asked Deepak to come to my room after public hours. I wanted to know what had actually enraged that customer so much as well as to understand the other side of the incident.

At 2pm sharp, Deepak was in my room. He looked embarrassed and crestfallen. Recounting how he was humiliated by that customer, Deepak became emotional and wiped tears from his eyes. He told me he had not intended to be rude to her. He respected her as an older person and a teacher.

I sensed genuineness in what he was saying. To ease his discomfort, I asked him about his background and how he came to work at the bank. He told me he had been a brilliant student and was keen to join the Indian Armed Forces, but his father had not allowed him to do so because he was their only child. Two of his classmates who had joined the Army had become Brigadiers, and he felt a sense of regret that he could not follow his dream. I asked him why he did not appear for promotion tests. I was surprised to hear that his father did not allow him because a promotion would entail a transfer and would take him, the only child, away from his parents.

His father was the Principal of a prestigious school. They owned a sprawling bungalow. Deepak was a member of the Doon Club and owned a big car. But there was nothing to look forward to in his professional life. He missed personal growth and the related satisfaction.

I was awestruck by the sacrifices the poor man had made for his family and how his father controlled his life. It was apparent Deepak had great potential and could have excelled in any career he would have chosen. But his father's fear of losing his only child held him back from moving upwards in life.

As Deepak left my office, I wondered how complex the human mind is. Was it the love and attachment of a father for his son? Was it genuine concern for his son's safety and well-being? Or was it his selfishness to be near his son in one's old age without disturbing his own existence?  And what did it say about our society where the parents felt they had the right to control their children's lives in this autocratic fashion, ignoring their personal growth and aspirations? Whatever be the reason, it was his own father who had clipped the wings of this brilliant young man.

(To be continued....)

*****

68. HR INITIATIVE GOES HIC... HIC...! (1998)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 68 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

It was like a scene straight out of a wacky sitcom. The clock had struck seven, and the sprawling bank premises were eerily quiet, with only a handful of officers scattered here and there concentrating on their last-minute jobs. I was getting ready to pack up and head home when I suddenly heard someone yelling incoherently. It sounded like a wild animal who had escaped from its natural habitat! Curious, I stepped out of the office room to investigate.

And there he was - the Bank Guard on duty, stumbling down the staircase like a newborn giraffe, except he wasn't cute or cuddly. He was totally sloshed! To make matters worse, he was clutching a loaded gun like it was his favourite toy. I knew I had to act fast and asked the other guards to disarm him quickly.

I learnt it was not the first time our drunkard friend had behaved this way. He had had a history of similar drama on the job. After getting him disarmed, I sent a staffer to escort him home before he turned the staircase into his personal Slip 'N Slide with indiscreet fireworks from his gun.

That evening, instead of taking disciplinary action against him for drinking while on duty, I thought of some HR intervention. Next day, I asked an officer to counsel him followed by a small talk on the harm alcoholism could have caused to him and his family. He stood there like a statue without any response or reaction, much to my chagrin. Next day, I asked a local officer to visit his house and talk to his wife to enlist her help for stopping him from excessive drinking. But boy, was I in for a surprise! 

The officer visited the Guard's house, after office hours, to talk to his wife but was shocked to find that the wife was in a worse state than the husband. He reported that the Guard could at least speak but his wife was totally drunk, dhutt as they say in Hindi. She could not even sit up or utter a word properly. In fact, getting tipsy was a family tradition passed down through generations of the hill tribe they belonged to, he further shared.

I hit my forehead with my hand. How do I implement HR measures when everyone in the family drank like a fish? Should I try to teach a fish to ride a bicycle? 

(To be continued...)

*****

67. IN SEARCH OF THE UNBORN DAUGHTER (1997)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 67 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

Knock, knock, knock...

I looked up as the door to my office room opened gently, and a man with a wrinkled face walked in with the help of a walking stick. Clad in an elegant tweed coat with leather patches on elbows and adorned with a golf cap, he had an air of distinction about him. As the room was large, it took him a little time to walk up to my table. I continued to look at him with patience.

Most of the visitors came to my room to complain about the indifferent service rendered by the staff. I wondered if he was another disgruntled customer with a complaint. But I noted warmth in his smile and twinkle in his small grey eyes that belied my hunch.

He introduced himself with an affectionate smile, “Good morning! I am Brigadier Arora.”

I offered him a seat, curious what had brought him to my office.

"You may probably be thinking I have come to complain about something," he said as if reading my mind. "But I have not. Your staff is wonderful. I saw your nameplate and came in to look at you."

“To look at me? But why?” I was amused.

Sometimes, customers walked into my room to see me. They would say it is the first time since 1922 that a woman was at the helm of affairs in this big branch. This ignited their imagination, and they wanted to personally see the woman who headed it. 

“I have come to meet you because your name is Ranjana,” he said with a conscious smile.

I was confused and looked at him curiously, wondering what he meant by that. He slowly continued, “You will laugh at this old man who has come to meet you because of your name. Are you amused? Do you think I have gone off my rocker?” He chuckled.

"You see, I have two sons, but I always wanted a daughter whom I wanted to name Ranjana. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. So, I named my younger son Ranjan."

He paused, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and joy. "Do you understand now why I wanted to meet you? May I call you Ranjana instead of Mrs Bharij?”

“Yes, by all means. Brig Arora.”

An affectionate smile spread on my face also when I learnt of his unfulfilled desire.

A few days later, he came with his equally charming wife, “Meet Ranjana. I have finally found her.” He enthusiastically introduced me to his wife, eyes shining with genuine happiness. I learnt that both their sons lived in the US, while Brig Arora and his wife continued to stay alone in this beautiful city of Dehra Dun.

Over the next few months, Brigadier Arora made it a point to see me whenever he visited the branch, which he often did. He would invariably drop into my room for coffee and to chat.

                                                                  ***

A few months later, it was the annual closing of the bank, a time when the bank officials were extremely busy. Ensuring everything went well, especially when we did everything manually, was quite a challenge those days. Seeing Brig Arora walking in on a day like this was not a welcome idea, but I welcomed him with a warm smile.

“No, I will not sit today. I know you are busy, but I have come up with a request. I hope you will not say no to that,” Brig Arora said with a charismatic smile.

I squirmed for a moment. Anyone putting up a condition before making a request makes me uncomfortable, but I smiled, “Please tell me, Brigadier Arora. What can I do for you? It will be my pleasure.”

“My wife and I would be delighted if you could come home for dinner this evening,” he said, his small grey eyes dancing merrily.

“Today? But it is a weekday! Can I come over the weekend?” I suggested as I was neck-deep in work.

“No, no. We want you to come today only,” Brig Arora asserted rightfully.

I had no choice but to agree, “I may be late in the office today. I really do not know what time I will reach your house.”

“Never mind. Whatever time you can make it, even if it is midnight, we will wait for you,” Brig Arora slowly walked out of the room, balancing himself with the help of his stick.

I was left wondering why he had invited me today of all days. The long day in the bank was so tiring that, in the end, I just wanted to return home. Going for dinner and having a polite conversation was challenging. I stretched my arm to pick up the phone to call him and convey my inability to come for dinner. But on an impulse, I stopped.

After 9pm, I drove into his huge bungalow in the posh Dalanwala. The door was open, and he was talking to someone on the phone. Seeing me, he waved at me frantically to come where he stood. He was saying, “You know she has come. She has just come. Here! Speak to her.” Saying this, he thrust the handset into my hand. Not knowing who he was talking to, I looked at him. He whispered, “This is my son Ranjan from the US. It is his birthday today. You talk to him. Speak…speak.” He was so happy and excited.

As I wished Ranjan on his birthday, I told him what the Brigadier had shared about his not being born a girl. He replied promptly, “What my father has told you is 100% correct. For years, he has longed to meet a girl with this name. He is so excited that he always talks to me about his meetings with you now.”

Telephonic conversation over, I realised I was invited for dinner to celebrate the birthday of their son Ranjan.

At dinnertime, the indulgent couple insisted, much to my embarrassment, that I sit at the head of the table. When the dinner was over, Mrs Arora brought a chocolate cake she had specially baked herself, as it was a favourite of their son. They asked me to cut it on behalf of their son, Ranjan. While I blew the candles and cut the cake, the old couple clapped and cheerfully sang, "Happy birthday to you..."

When they hugged me and fed me the cake with their hands, my eyes welled up with tears.

The joy I saw on the two wrinkled faces that evening was the experience of a lifetime.

(To be continued....)

*****

66. IGNORANCE IS BLISS (1997)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 66 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

Dehra Dun Main Branch had been notorious for its militant unions, and there were numerous tales of their indiscipline and aggressive behaviour in the past. But when I joined this branch, I was told that it had since become clean and the undesirable elements had already been neutralised. However, the miscreants continued to be posted there.

A few days after my taking over, I learnt that some staff members use the premises for boozing after office hours. I promptly issued an office order that no employee shall sit in the branch after office hours unless there was a written order for working overtime.

A few days later, when I came out of the building at the end of the day and started my car, I noticed at least a dozen two-wheelers stationed in the parking area. There was no other car, which meant all the Managers had already left the office. I looked at the watch. It was already 7 pm.

I asked the guard on duty whether any employees were still sitting in the branch. When he nodded, I asked him to go inside and ask them to leave immediately. I waited and waited, but nobody came out. I again asked the guard to go upstairs and bring all of them downstairs. He appeared reluctant but mentioned their names. I lost my temper and threatened that if he did not turn them out of the building, I would suspend him then and there for dereliction of duty. 

The poor fellow went upstairs again. I do not know what he told them, but the guys sitting inside unauthorisedly came down. I asked them to explain what they were doing upstairs despite clear orders against sitting in the branch beyond office hours. They mumbled and fumbled and gave vague excuses. They said they were to go for a wedding, and instead of going home, they were waiting at the branch. I sternly told them they were sitting there unauthorisedly and should leave immediately. They looked at each other and quietly moved towards their respective vehicles, and I drove away. 

I must have driven about 100 metres when it struck me that they might not have left and may have returned to the branch after I left. I turned the car and came back to the branch building. Sure enough, they were still there and did not appear to be in the mood to leave. I lost my temper and yelled at them. I parked my car and saw to it that they all left. After that, I instructed the guard to lock the gate. I also told him I would return after some time to check them. I stayed put there until all of them left the place. I was pleased with myself for taking this action against delinquent employees.

When I reached the branch the next day, I sensed a strange silence in the banking hall. A few minutes later, the Manager (Accounts) came to me. He wanted to know what had transpired the previous evening. When I told him, he was surprised at my handling the situation in this manner. Then he asked me sheepishly whether I knew who the concerned people were. On knowing my ignorance, he whispered in undertones that they were the biggest goons of the branch who had played havoc with one of the branch heads in the past. However, he also told me that those people were now quite zapped after experiencing my unbridled verbal shouting. 

After he left the room, I covered my face with my hand and laughed. I also thanked my stars I knew neither their names nor the faces of those notorious guys. Who knows whether I would have been so tough with them had I known their shady backgrounds.

Don’t they say ignorance is bliss?  

(To be continued...)

*****

65. HEY WOMAN! PROVE YOUR METTLE (1997)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 65 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards. 

In 1997, I assumed charge of the Dehra Dun branch, the largest branch in Uttarakhand State. Spread over two floors, this branch had four divisions and 206 employees. It was considered a challenging task to steer it successfully.

As I took over this role, the first monthly Performance Review meeting loomed as a challenge. The branch performance was abysmal across all metrics, and I dreaded presenting the figures in the meeting. I knew this was not my fault, but the weight of the situation was palpable. To my relief, my boss did not embarrass me. Instead, he was straight, “You have joined the branch recently, and I cannot hold you accountable for this poor performance. But can you give some timeline for turning these figures around?”

I replied without hesitation, 'Within a quarter!”

He smiled, “Good! Best of luck!” Did I see scepticism on his face?

Returning to the branch, I immediately called a meeting of all the Heads of the Divisions and discussed with them what transpired in the Performance Review meeting. I urged them to rise to the challenge. They assured their unwavering commitment. Together with their teams, they devised strategies, tapped all their resources, and aggressively pursued business growth in deposits and advances.

I felt pride as I presented the branch performance figures for the next quarter, which showed positive results on every parameter. Thanks to the dedication of my team, I fulfilled my promise.

After several quarters of sustained positive performance, my boss publicly acknowledged his initial doubts about my capabilities, rooted in gender bias.

He said, “When I came to know of your posting, I anticipated further decline in the performance of the branch, assuming that a woman would find it difficult to lead it. However, you have proved me wrong. I once believed that you would give more time to your family and may make frequent trips to Delhi and take leave often. But you have defied my expectations. Previously, I used to question the Dehra Dun branch why they could not achieve targets while Region 1 could. Now, I should ask Region 1 why they cannot emulate the success of the Dehra Dun branch. I must admit that I was highly mistaken about your capabilities.”

For a moment, I was overwhelmed by the fact that I was constantly required to prove my worth because I was a woman. Yet, I admired profusely his candid admission. This was the first time I witnessed a senior officer openly admitting his mistaken preconceived notions. I was deeply impressed with his honesty in sharing his views frankly in an open forum. My salute to him!

                                                                                                                       (To be continued...)

*****

64. A DAY FULL OF UNEXPECTED CHALLENGES (1996)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 64 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

That winter evening, I was late in leaving the office. Driving at a high speed, as I entered the South Avenue from Vijay Chowk, I rammed straight into a Delhi Police barricade. Placed in a dark patch under the shadow of a tree, I had not seen it. The road was deserted, and I was, to be honest, driving recklessly. The impact was so forceful that the steel barricade rebounded, encircled my car and hit its rear door. The jolt shook me out of my reverie. I got down and inspected the car: the rear door was jammed. Nobody was hurt. It was only my car which got damaged.

I looked around nervously. The road was deserted, and I decided to drive away. Suddenly, two cops on a motorcycle surfaced from nowhere, their red and blue lights flashing. They waved at me to stop, checked my registration papers and driving licence and directed me to follow them to the Police Station. I had no option but to follow them.

It had been a bad day, and my mind was embroiled in my thoughts. I felt like I was living through a nightmare. The sound of the siren and the flashing of the police lights only served to amplify the anxiety I was already feeling.

We reached the police station. The cops told the Station House Officer what had happened and why I had been brought there. The SHO asked me sternly, “The road was empty, and you still did not see the barricade. Why, Madam?”

“I am sorry, sir. Yes, I did not see the barricade. It was placed under the shadow of a tree, and the place was quite dark, making the barricade almost invisible. There were no blinkers on the barricade. I admit it was my mistake, and I am sorry for what happened,” I said politely.

The Station House Officer was a nice person. He warned me to be careful in future and allowed me to leave the police station without any punishment. I felt relieved, as this was the best thing that happened that day after various factors had taken a toll on me.

                                                           ***  

Back in the car, I did not switch on the music and drove home in silence, reliving what happened that day.

Juggling a demanding job and ever-increasing family responsibilities, I had developed an internal mental switch to maintain my sanity. Every morning, when I stepped out of the house, I switched off the domestic mode and turned the official switch on. In the evening, as I got into my car, I switched off my official mode and turned on my favourite music. The domestic mode would come alive only when I reached home. Thus, the interregnum between leaving the office and reaching home was my “Me Time” when I forgot the world. However, that evening, my worries consumed me, preventing me from relaxing. There was an onslaught of problems from all sides throughout the day.

***

Soon after I reached the office, my son called, “Mom, I have just reached home.”

“Why? What happened?” I was alarmed. He had joined a reputed engineering college for a four-year course just a month ago.

“The physical ragging is atrocious. The seniors are no less than monsters. I cannot take it anymore. I am not going back there,” he sounded upset.

“You relax at home now. We will talk about it in the evening,” I comforted him.

A little later, my mother called up from Lucknow, “Papa is in a critical condition. Can you come over one of these weekends to look him up? It is not urgent, but who knows what happens tomorrow…?” She had left the sentence incomplete for me to infer its meaning. My heart sank as I realized that if I did not go to Lucknow now, I may never see my father again.

Just before lunch, Ronnie Khanna (not his real name), who was earlier in my team, walked into my room. He looked serious and worried. “Madam, if you do not mind, I want to give some personal advice. Please clear the proposals of Faiz Ali Sahab.”

“But none of the proposals for donation to his institutes fulfil the criteria for donation under community services banking.”

“What you are saying is correct technically, but madam, it may not be good for you personally. I have come to caution you because I have worked with you earlier and continue to be your well-wisher,” Ronnie sounded concerned.

“Faiz Ali is sitting in the VIP lobby, raising a stink because you have turned down all the proposals for donations to his institute,” Ronnie’s tone was grim, the lines of worry getting dark on his serious face.

“He is a Local Board member and can be nasty. He is threatening to have you transferred to a difficult place.”

“But I have not turned them down myself. It is with the approval of the big boss,” I said confidently.

“You know our boss is spineless, and this man is saying that he will have you transferred to a place where even potable water may not be available,” he whispered as he looked at the door from the corner of his eyes.

“I do not care. Please tell that fellow I am willing to go even to the North East. I would boil the water before drinking it but shall not do anything against the norms,” I was unruffled. Disappointed at my firm response, Ronnie left the room.

I thought about it for some time and decided to inform the boss. I thought it would be good to forewarn him so that he could counter the undesirable onslaught by the Local Board member. When I apprised him of the situation, he listened attentively and said, “I hope you have not told him that all these notes were declined with my approval.”

“No, sir. Not at all! He does not know anything about that,” I said with pride in my voice, pride in being a disciplined soldier. My loyalties were with my Bank and my boss only.

“Hmmm… Do not tell him about this conversation, and keep these folders in your custody. He should not see them under any circumstances and not even get wind of the fact that I declined them,” he sounded relieved.

I had assessed my boss to be straightforward and strong, but was he? How mistaken I was! This happened before lunchtime, and my transfer orders for Dehra Dun were issued by the evening.

Later in the evening, Ronnie told me that Faiz Ali would not leave the top man’s room until he signed my transfer orders. Not having enough guts to explain the official policies, he preferred to succumb to his pressure and comply with his demands in a cowardly manner. How I missed my previous boss! (See Episode no 63. Two Opposite Leadership Styles (Year 1994) 

https://ranjanabharij.blogspot.com/2024/10/63-two-leadership-styles-year-1994.html 

***

I had reached home. As I parked the car in front of my house, I felt fatigue wash over me. The events of the day, culminating in the car accident and the police encounter, left me feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.

I continued to sit in the car for a few minutes, contemplating which issue to deal with first, break the news of my transfer to Dehra Dun to the family, book my tickets for Lucknow to meet my ailing father or to help my son handle the issue of ragging at the college.
I took a deep breath, gathered myself and stepped out of the car, ready to handle all the unexpected challenges that had suddenly cropped up that day.

(To be continued...)

                                   *****

63. TWO OPPOSITE LEADERSHIP STYLES (1994)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 63 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

It was the annual closing time for the Bank. News of business performances from other circles was coming into the media every day. Our circle had achieved phenomenal growth in business. I was thrilled with our success and envisioned a press conference to showcase our achievements. As the head of Public Relations, it was my duty to capitalize on such opportunities to enhance the image of the Bank.

While I reported directly to the Circle head, administrative matters were routed through one of the General Managers. Eagerly, I approached the General Manager with my idea, but his response was almost lukewarm. With an expressionless face, he merely suggested I consult the Chief.  

I did not allow my spirits to be dampened and sought an audience with the big boss with renewed determination. He was the same person who had interviewed me for this job, as I have previously recounted in Episode 61. He enthusiastically endorsed my proposal and instructed his Personal Secretary to schedule a suitable date.

Excited at the idea, I moved swiftly, booked a prestigious hotel for the press conference, designed invitation cards, selected thoughtful gifts for the media, meticulously prepared an impressive press release and had it duly approved by the General Managers and the Circle head.

The press conference was a resounding success. All our top and senior executives were present at the venue, the media briefing was informative, and questions were addressed by the circle management committee with clarity. The media relished the exquisite wines and thoughtfully curated dinner menu. With the help of my team, I saw off the last guests around 2 am.

In the morning, I was delighted to read extensive coverage of our performance in the newspapers I subscribed to. Eager to see how other papers had reported the event, I arrived at the office earlier than usual. I was thrilled at the success of my first press conference.

As I was immersed in reading the media reports, my phone rang. It was a long-distance call from the head of Public Relations in the Corporate Centre in Mumbai. He rebuked me for a significant blunder: the profit figures of the circle were not to be shared. He emphasized that only the consolidated profit figures of the Bank were to be made public. He apprehended that the Chairman would be furious and may reprimand our Circle head. Before I could respond, he disconnected the line.

I was stunned. My pride and joy evaporated as I slumped in my chair. A mistake had been made, and I could not undo it. I felt compelled to inform our superiors so they could be prepared.

I could not wait for the elevator and took to the stairs to inform the General Manager. He listened impassively and replied curtly, "I never wanted a press conference. It was you who were pushing for it. Now face the consequences! (मैं तो वैसे भी कोई प्रैस कांफ्रेंस वगैरह करना नहीं चाहता था। आप ही को पडी हुई थी। अब नतीजा भुगतिए।)"

"I had only suggested it, and you had agreed. You even approved the press release with the controversial figures. How can you disown it now?" I wanted to protest but was dumbfounded by his attempt to evade the blame. He washed his hands of any responsibility.

Snubbed and humiliated, I came out of his office. But after a moment of hesitation, I decided to inform the Circle head about the lapse. I wanted to forewarn him. Anticipating a potential call from the Chairman, I did not want him to be taken off-guard. As I entered his room, he greeted me warmly and complimented me for arranging a successful press conference. I could not even accept the compliment properly and confessed to the mistake pointed out by the Corporate Centre. I expressed my apprehension about the likely adverse reaction from the Chairman.

He listened attentively, smiled and said reassuringly, "Don't worry. I will handle it."

With his soothing words, a wave of relief washed over me, and I breathed easy. I never heard anything further about the lapse from anyone.  

That day, in the face of adversity, I witnessed two vastly different leadership styles. One was a man who shied away from responsibility and tried to throw back the blame at his junior. The other was a confident leader who stood by his team even in crisis. It was a lesson I would never forget.

(To be continued...)

*****

62. SURVIVING OFFICE POLITICS (1993)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 62 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

My first day after taking charge as head of Public Relations was full of activity. I was summoned by the General Manager to participate in a meeting for arranging the inauguration function of the computerisation of a branch. The event was significant as the Prime Minister was the chief guest. While the Branch Manager was to organise the overall event, the General Manager asked me to coordinate media coverage, ensure the presence of media persons, issue an effective press release, and do everything to ensure good coverage of the event in print as well as in the electronic media.

I knew the concerned Branch Manager from my earlier days. I was aware of his innate skills in office politics. As we were concluding the meeting, he suggested that the photographer be arranged by my department. I noticed his sly look when he said it and immediately sensed a trap.

The inauguration venue was like a fortress with multiple layers of high security. Only those with prior clearance were granted access. I was the only one from my department for whom the Branch Manager got an entry pass issued. He also got an entry pass for the photographer to enter the venue at 9.15 am.

As the big day approached, my team and I meticulously planned everything with the minutest details. As is my wont, I arrived early at the venue to look at the layout. 

To my surprise, the senior officials of the Bank began arriving well before 9.30am, the scheduled arrival time of the chief guest. I looked at my watch. It was only 8.45am. I wondered why they have come so much ahead of the time. The air was thick with anticipation, the hushed murmur of conversation punctuated by an occasional sound here and there.

That is when my colleague, with a smug grin stretching from ear to ear and his right hand waving questioningly at me, asked sarcastically in front of all the seniors in a loud voice, “Madam, where is your photographer? Why has he not reached? PM should be reaching any moment now.” 

I realised that the inauguration schedule had been changed, and the Prime Minister was arriving early. Neither I nor the photographer was informed of the last-minute change. Was it a carefully laid noose to snare me?  

It was the pre-cell phone era. I frantically ran to the branch on the first floor and tried to reach the photographer, but his studio was closed. I called his residence, and his wife informed me he had already left. I rushed back to the venue, my heart pounding against my ribs.

The photographer reached at 9.15 am sharp as per his entry pass. But the VIP motorcade reached the premises simultaneously, and he was stopped at the gate of the building. The net result was that his camera could not capture the moment of our Chairman presenting the bouquet to the Prime Minister.

The next day, the Branch Manager took the album to all the seniors, highlighting at every forum the lapse he had cleverly orchestrated and attributed to me. He repeated to everyone that the most important photograph of the Chairman presenting the bouquet to the Prime Minister could not be captured as the photographer, arranged by the Public Relations Department, was late. Nobody knew that he was the real culprit who had purposely not informed the change in timings either to me or to the photographer. 

Fortunately for me, the journalists covered the story well, and it was published on the first page of all the national dailies with the photo of the Prime Minister addressing the audience. My seniors were pleased with the incredible media coverage, which saved my role reputation from being dented. They did not heed his repeated efforts to project me in bad light. Don't they say in Hindi, "जाको राखे साईंयां, मार सके न कोय l "

I learnt a valuable lesson that day: office politics can be treacherous. It is like a minefield filled with hidden dangers and unexpected twists, and one must navigate it carefully. I also realised that office politics is an integral part of corporate life, and one must master appropriate skills to counter it to survive in the corporate world.

(To be continued...)

*****

61. ANOTHER TRANSFER, ANOTHER TRIAL (1993)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 61 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

The day my next transfer order came, I felt excited but was also filled with trepidation. I had been posted as head of Public Relations for the entire circle, a position higher than my present scale. Enthusiasm surged through me, but so did apprehension. I was due for my next promotion. What if I did not meet the expectations of the seniors? What if I was reassigned to the lower grade if I could not perform and was not promoted?

I thought of the famous lines from Gone with the Wind, “Tomorrow is another day.”  As I awaited my formal relieving orders and the arrival of my successor, I was determined to keep my nerves in check and act like Scarlett O’Hara. I decided to face future challenges with optimism.

The next day, I arrived at the office earlier than usual, only to find it eerily quiet. The cleaning staff was wrapping up as I entered. As I settled in, I noticed from the glass window two men hurrying towards my cabin. Curious, I barely had time to react before the door burst open. The younger man held the door for the senior, announcing with authority, “Ranjana, the CGM is here!”

I was taken off-guard and jumped up from my chair. The men were none other than the newly posted Chief General Manager and his Personal Secretary. An introductory conversation ensued, though I was puzzled by the unexpected visit. Why was the big boss here so early, and why the surprise appearance?

As minutes ticked by, the office began to buzz with staff members arriving, shaking hands vigorously and greeting each other loudly. The banking hall was abuzz with their usual cheerfulness and bonhomie. All the sounds were clearly audible in my cabin. I wanted to tell them to behave decently since the CGM was present, but I had no way to communicate with them. I offered tea to the visitors, which they declined, leaving me unable to summon a messenger to inform the team. The open glass window made it clear that two guests were seated inside. Therefore, no one came in to greet me, a departure from their usual routine.

Time passed. It was already ten o’clock, but I observed nervously that half the counters were still vacant. At 10:10, the CGM suggested a tour of the branch. My heart raced as I noticed the empty counters but there was no choice but to comply. As we stepped out, I made it a point to introduce him to the Accountant sitting outside my room in a louder than usual voice, ensuring everyone could hear. My team quickly sprang into action. Those working on back office desks promptly moved to the front counters, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

After a tour of the branch, the CGM agreed to a cup of tea and posed a series of questions about my ability to handle the upcoming role in Public Relations. “Will you be mobile enough to visit journalists? Are you prepared to stay late for evening events? Can you lead teams on assignments away from headquarters? Will you be able to handle the hot-headed journalists?” With unwavering confidence, I answered each question with a resolute "Yes, of course, sir!" I had not learnt to say "No, I can't."

The CGM and his secretary left around 11 a.m. I couldn't help but wonder why he had taken the time to visit my branch so soon after joining the circle? He had not inspected any records or asked for business figures. So, what was the real purpose of his visit?

The answer came an hour later when the Personal Secretary called to inform me that the CGM had approved my posting. The visit of the CGM was to resolve his underlying concerns as he had doubts about the capability of a woman to lead an important role. He had planned his visit to check whether I could handle the new responsibilities. Concerned about the posting of a woman officer to a high-profile role reporting directly to him, he wanted to ensure that I was capable of addressing the unusual challenges of the role. 

Once again, my gender had been challenged, and my capabilities had been suspected and scrutinized, all perhaps because I was a woman. By demonstrating my confidence and competence, I successfully dispelled his concerns. He was convinced of my mobility and my communication and leadership skills and I thus became the first female officer to handle public relations in the Bank.

The next three years were like going through an Agni Pariksha once again and I continued to prove my worth every day as new challenges cropped up.

(To be continued....)

*****

60. AN UNEXPECTED MONOTONY BREAKER (1992)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 60 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

After a harrowing summer, the monsoon had descended upon Delhi with a vengeance, turning the city into a watery mess. Delhi was virtually in a deluge. The roads were flooded: it was difficult for the traffic to move. Several Ambassador cars were blocking the road with their bonnets up as the rainwater entered the distributor, a common problem during the rainy season. Delhi had come to a virtual standstill.

As Chief Manager of a branch in central Delhi, which I was heading, I looked at the clock. It showed 1.45pm. The business hours of the Bank were from 10am to 2pm. Usually, at this time, several customers would walk in leisurely from the nearby government offices after finishing their lunch, but that day was different. There was no one in the banking hall. The usual bustle of customers had been deterred by the torrential downpour. The life of a banker is boring if there are no customers; the thought crossed my mind as I suppressed a yawn. 

A few minutes later, I was about to close my payment scroll for the day when a frantic elderly gentleman burst into my office. He looked suave despite his grey hair, which was in a mess due to rain.

 “Up to what time would you accept cash?” He demanded in an authoritative tone.

“What a question to ask!” I thought before responding to him.

“Up to 2pm,” I responded calmly.

"I have to deposit Advance Tax! Do you know today is the last day? And it is raining cats and dogs. Are you not going to extend the business hours?" he roared, his voice a mix of urgency and panic.

“I know it, sir. But I am afraid I cannot change the banking hours because of the weather. You can deposit the tax now. We still have ten minutes for the counter to close,” I replied politely.  

“If I had the cash with me, Lady, I would have deposited it straightaway. I certainly would not have come to you. My problem is that I have to bring the cash from home. Today is the last date, and I must deposit the tax today. I do not see any reason why you should not co-operate. As the head of this branch, you are supposed to help a customer.” His face contorted with anger, and his voice raised with a sense of entitlement in his demand.

“Look at the time, sir. It is almost 2pm, the time for us to stop the public dealings. I have no authority to extend the business hours,” I expressed my inability to oblige him.

Observing my firm stance, the fellow immediately softened, “Ma’am, can you please help me given these unusual rains? I have to deposit Advance Tax today itself under any circumstances. Can you please please stretch the timings a wee bit? I would be extremely grateful to you. I will return with cash in no time,” he pleaded extremely politely this time. Seeing him so helpless and descending from the high pedestal, I relented and decided to help him, “Ok. But where do you stay?”

“In GK, I mean Greater Kailash.” As he said this, I started laughing.

“Going to GK and coming back in this rain? I bet my life if you can manage it even in three hours today.”

“What am I going to do now? The tax has to be deposited today.” He sighed dramatically, rubbing his hands nervously.

“Can you ask somebody to bring cash instead of you going and bringing it from home? That way, you can reduce the travel time by half, and I can ask the Cash Officer to keep the books open for some time. But by the time he returns from lunch, your cash should have reached,” I suggested.

The man beamed, “Yes. That is brilliant. I will ring up my wife, and she will send cash through the driver. May I use your phone?”

He settled down in the chair in my cabin and dialled his residence number to talk to his wife. The volume of the other side being high and the room being quiet, I unwittingly became a passive listener to the entire conversation. I heard him explain his predicament, and then the chaos ensued.

"Cash? How much? Why do you need it?" his wife demanded curtly.

"It's for Advance Tax. I need fifty thousand rupees, and I need it now! Is the driver there?”

“Why don’t you come home, have lunch, and take the cash too?”

“No. I cannot come home. It is raining so badly here. It will take me quite some time to reach home. But can you ask the driver…..”

“But why can’t you come home?” she repeated.

“Try to understand, darling. I cannot come home. Just listen to me…..This is urgent. Today is the last date for….”

“I knew that. You always avoid coming home for lunch.”

“Ok…ok. Stop whining and send the driver quickly with cash. Is he there?”

“Yes, he is. But where are you?” His wife asked suspiciously.

"I'm at the bank, of course!" he said, exasperated.

"You're lying! Where are you really?" she accused.

"I'm not lying!  I just told you I'm at the Bank!" he insisted.  

“You liar! Where are you? Tell me the truth,” she growled.

“No. I am not lying. I am at the Bank only,” he frowned.

"But I just heard a woman’s voice. Who are you with?" she demanded.

“Yes. You heard it right. It was a woman’s voice. She is the Chief Manager here…..” he replied softly, struggling to sound calm.

“You are again lying. When will you ever change? How can a woman be the Chief Manager of a Bank?” his wife scoffed. The insinuation was not veiled.

“It is a fact, and I am NOT lying." The man groaned again.

“Hmm...and how does the driver know where the bank is? Do you visit her often?”

“Stop this nonsense and send the cash quickly,” saying so, he banged the phone.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he burst out, “Oh women, women, women! Why are you like this? That was my wife. I am on the wrong side of seventy, and she still suspects me. She heard your voice and started doubting me. She would not believe that a woman could be the Chief Manager. Why are you women like this?” He exploded with frustration and sat down, holding the head in his hands.

I suppressed my smile and pressed the call bell to order a strong cup of coffee. He needed it to soothe his nerves, ruffled by his suspecting wife. As he sipped coffee, he kept lamenting about his wife. Although my lunch got delayed, the incident was an unexpected monotony breaker in the otherwise mundane and lacklustre workday of a banker.

(To be continued....)

*****

59. THINK BEFORE YOU LICK! (1991)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 59 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

When I joined a branch in central Delhi, I was suffering from a relentless cough that refused to abate. This persistent and nagging discomfort robbed me of sleep, peace, and productivity. Despite countless visits to medical professionals, from general practitioners to specialists, no diagnosis could be reached.

One of the staffers, seeing me coughing badly, suggested I see Vaidya ji, who also sat in the same government building where my branch was. I was told that anybody who went to him got cured.

The reputation of Vaidya Ji was impeccable. He was a gold medalist, the personal physician to the President of India, and possessed a legendary healing touch. Countless stories circulated about his ability to cure even the most intractable ailments.

I made an appointment and met with Vaidya Ji. He asked some basic questions, examined my throat, checked my pulse, and assured me that I should not worry. He gave me 60 pudiyas (sachets) of medicine containing a white and grey powder. He advised me to lick it twice daily after mixing it with honey. Desperate for relief, I embarked on the treatment with renewed hope.

The treatment seemed almost magical. Within two days, my cough vanished miraculously. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of energy. I felt rejuvenated and was brimming with energy. I felt my happiness returning and my spirits soaring. The world seemed brighter and less burdened despite the heavy workload at the branch.

I strictly followed the advice of Vaidya Ji that I should not stop the treatment even if I feel totally cured. Two months passed quickly.

Lo and behold, my happiness was short-lived, and one day, my world of delight crashed suddenly. In a get-together, I shared my experience with a doctor friend whose son also suffered from a persistent cough. Upon hearing about my treatment, he expressed doubt about the probable use of steroids.

“I hope he did not give you steroids,” he enquired.

I wanted to hit back, “You allopathic doctors! You cannot appreciate any other stream, be it Ayurveda or Homeopathy.” But I behaved like a decent host and restrained myself from reacting adversely.

Our friend politely asked me if I could spare one pudiya for him. He said he would have it tested in his hospital lab, and in case it is devoid of steroids, he would ask me to fix up an appointment for his son.

Intrigued, I agreed to let him test a sample of the powder. A week later, he called me to confirm what he had suspected. The test result was shocking. The powder that I was merrily licking twice a day contained high levels of unaccounted steroids.

He advised me to reduce the dose gradually and get rid of this harmful treatment. My heart sank and the joy I had felt was replaced by a growing dread as I tapered off the treatment.

Recently, the memory of those days returned in a big way when I read on internet that steroids, when taken in large doses or for extended periods, can interfere with the ability of our body to regulate blood sugar. This can cause insulin resistance, a condition where the cells of our body become less responsive to insulin. When insulin resistance develops, the pancreas may produce more insulin to compensate, but eventually, it may become overwhelmed. This can lead to the development of type 2 diabetes. 

Oh my God! I recalled I had developed type 2 diabetes within a couple of years after discontinuing the treatment, even though I do not have such a history in my lineage. The regret of taking the treatment from Vaidya ji has returned in a big way.  I wish I had not licked that powder so earnestly for so long. But I allowed my desperation to impair my ability to make a rational judgment. 

(To be continued.....)

*****