Vignettes of the देस (country)

It's midnight. After a very long week of work in Milwaukee and a 3 very productive days in Dhaka I'm finally in Delhi after a long flight. I get into a Maruti van taxi on a cool (cold?) Delhi night. Driver rings up his "brother"to join him for the journey. Chalo, theek hai. Why not.

Get on the DND flyover and try to give the guy directions to my aunt's place in Noida. "Sir Ji, vaise humaari Noida ki gaadi nahin hai. Aap seedhe raaste se hi le jaaiye"(My cab's not allowed to go to Noida, direct me through a straight route... so I don't get busted). "If you wanted to go ANYWHERE in Delhi, I'd be able to take you." And promptly starts to list out all the different hotels of Delhi and how he knows the route to each one of them.

The foggy cold of the night doesn't help my cool. I ask him, no admonish him, to stop talking 'bakwaas' (crap) at 12:30 at night.

I spend the rest of the ride thinking if I wasted an opportunity to listen, and teach. And that I've made myself just a little bit lonelier on this planet.

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Next morning at 9:15am. I'm in my aunt's little Maruti car, cozy in the back seat, laptop case in lap, being dropped off. I am stunned by the beautiful greenery of New Delhi, lush in the winter. Note to self: trees make a city much much more humane.

Arrive at the Ashok hotel for a meeting with my manager and attend part of a conference. Guard in full pageantry asks me to get my laptop scanned. I enter and try to act busy to not pay too much attention to the lobby. It's beautiful. The lighting. The space. The finesse of the wooden carvings. And that ancient sculpture. The marble water pond in the middle. The soft white marble floors. I could sleep on them, they look so soft. Like clouds.

I am surprisingly at home (it's a hotel), and yet lost in this unfamiliar opulence. We're not in Bagar anymore Dorothy.

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2:45pm. In another Maruti van taxi to commission a design consulting firm. Lost in my thoughts, thinking of the smell of the 'Achaari Arbi' on my fingers that I had for lunch at the Ashok.

This old man raps on the window and starts pleading for money. I take a startled glance, dismiss him as a bhikaari (beggar) and look away. And then look back - he's pressing a sheet of paper to the window. This is new. Pointing to a bundle wrapped in a shawl on his shoulder, "Babu, mera baccha beemar hai, ilaaj ke liye paaise chahiye, daakter ki parchi bhi hai". (My kid is sick, I need money for his treatment). I look closer at the piece of paper. Safdarjung Hospital. It's not quite an Rx slip, too big for that. I can't read the freaking doctor's handwriting, which reassures me (it must be legit, I chuckle on the inside). I can read the date. Dec 16, 2010. OK, this man's not faking. This other lady comes in and pleads, "De do bauji, kuch madad karo. Yeh bhikaari nahin hai, majboori mein maang raha hai. Apne bacche ke liye maang raha hai". (He's not a beggar sir, he's asking because he's desperate. He's asking for his child).

I'm now calculating. I take out of a wad of notes. 500 seems too much. 10 is inconsequential. I peel off a 50 rupee note and show it to him. The window's closed. I give it to the driver and the guy almost snatches it out of his hand and just takes off.

The driver remains expressionless. I tell myself he's silently judging.

I process. Maybe he's in cohoots with the doctor. But the date. Maybe someone stole a whole bunch of prescription pads and started doing this. But the child. Wait, was there a child? I just saw a bundle of something on his shoulder. Shit, did I get duped? No, I didn't. I gave out of the goodness of my heart. It frees me. Life will punish him. He cried wolf. Over his sick kid. Fuck, am I getting satisfaction by thinking that life will befell the plague on his kids?

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5:45 pm. I'm getting dropped off after commissioning the research. It's cool to see a group of young guys in India talking about ethnographic research and rural observations and design thinking. I feel good. And I know I added value.

Thoughts go back to the bhikaari:

Ashish, is there any 'karuna' (kindness) left in your heart? You gave him out of evidence, proof.

but but but sustainability and true need and teaching a man to fish...

GIVE.

but development and business school and ...

GIVE

but but he may duped me...

GIVE.

but but but...ah ok, we're at the Metro station. Over and Out.

I walk up to this beautiful Metro station. A few street kids are running around. one is writhing on the floor, crying. A kid stands over the cry baby with a stern look and kicks him again. The kid cries more.

You should done something

I am minding my business

You shoulda done something

I can't do anything there. Nothing I could give would solve that problem.

You always have love.

I keep walking towards the gleaming glass doors. Never skipped a beat.

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4:30am

My phone rings. That's weird - it's my sister's father in law.

Namaste Uncleji.

Kaun, Ashish?

Haan

Kab aaye?

Kal, nahin parson, nahin kal raat

Accha nanaji kahaan hai?

So rahe hain

Accha. Unko bataa dena ki amma ji ka dehaant ho gaya.

(I have my grandpa's phone. He had called to inform that his mother had just passed away)

Wake up mynanaji ( my maternal grandpa - well, my mom's mother's younger sister's husband, so still very close). Tell him the news. I thought there would be more expression on his face. I just woke up an old man from his sleep, what expression do I expect at 4:30am. Well, he's probably known a lot of people passed away by now.

He calls back. Gets the info. They've been friends for 40 yrs, it must be comforting for my sister's father-in-law (let's just call him Uncleji).

Action plan: Uncleji's mom is going to be cremated on the banks of the Gangaji (Ganges river, always with a suffixed ji for respect. Sometimes mayya for mother). Ashish, you have to go and represent your family. They see just a hint of hesitation. If you weren't here, no worries, but you're in Delhi. Yes, I say. I'll rearrange my meetings.

I call my manager in the US. I'll meet the other research firm in the evening. I'll make sure they know exactly what we want. Yes, of course, I'll be the hardass and let you know whether they're capable of delivering in Indonesia.

He's understanding about the situation. We end up talking business for a good half hour too.

It's 5:30am now. I'm wired. Can't sleep for 2.5 hrs and be functional - shouldn't have spent so much time gupshupping with mamiji (my aunt). Yes I should have. But you have people to meet tis evening. And drinks to drink tonight.

OK. I lie down again. Sleep comes easy

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6am - The home phone rings. I pick it up. It's nanaji (maternal grandpa - well, my mother's mom's younger sister's son's wife's father, so still pretty close). Namaste nanaji I say.

We'll all be carpooling to Gangaji for the cremation.

I remember back to Bagar. I know I was finally a part of the community when I was expected to attend the antim sanskaar (literally, last rites).

I'm wired now.

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6:30am - sitting down and chatting with my naniji (grandma - mother's mom's sister...ok ok, you get it by now). Nanaji and I start talking. We get onto the topic of dahej (dowry). Naniji's recounting how she decided the moment her son was born that she wouldn't take any for him. Nanaji's surprised - he's never heard this one before. I'm somehow not surprised - when would she ever get to share this with him? When would it ever have been appropriate.

6:45am - Yay conversation. Headed discussion on 'be the change you wish to bring in society'- my grandpa doesn't bring up the exact Gandhi quote. He thinks no dowry is silly - too extreme - just take a little bit according to customs. I say no, you have to be unreasonable to set an example. The people are average, I pontificate, to steer them you have to be completely extreme. I cite Gandhi's example - would anybody have listened to him if he went on half a roti diet instead of a complete hunger strike? Now I'm inspired. Would America have listened to the terrorists if all they did was decide to go to NYC and slap those bad Americans in the face? That was a silly example Ashish. I mean Nanaji, whether for good or bad, you have to be extreme. He's moved on to the next conversation in his mind. A little here and there. And he's gone in 5 minutes.

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7am - I am still inspired and feel the need to edify Pontificus Maximus. Naniji. Well, we've never talked. I don't know how it happens, but I find myself lecturing to her on how India's the sickest country. Poor people and rich people disease. I translate "15% of the world's population but 30-4o% of the world's burden of disease" in Hindi. She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

She asks me what I do. AH, wow, we've never really talked have we. I attempt to tell her, not so shpielish this time. And so your company's transferring you to Bangalore? Well, actually, yes, yes they are. When? April? The weather's nice there. It's great I say. The cafeterias in the GE building are open air, no fans. That's right, the weather's so great there, don't even need fans at home. Sniff Sniff. Pontificus Maximus has the scent. Naniji - you have to come down. I'll show you my office. Big campus. Beatiful trees. GE is this great big company, 4400 researchers in B'lore, jet engines to medical devices. She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

Pontificus is not satisfied. I start down the path of all the other problems in India. And how we can make money from it. I recount to her the vision of CK Prahalad (famous guy, everyone in India respected him I tell her). He told us once that everyone in India knows the issue, you got to present it as an opportunity. I feel flippant - see naniji, society has all these issues, i can't stop it, but i can serve them by making money by fixing the issues. I talk about low-cost dentures for the Gutkha chewers. I talk about a personalized matchmaking service for the communities-which-have-killed-their-girl-childs. I talk about the 1000cr Indian Railways budget for cleaning services and how this man privatized it and delivered quality and why as taxpayers we shouldn't care because the govt is our servant and we don't pay the government to hire more servants that don't do anything and so i don't care if the government (my servant naniji, our servant, i remind her) pays a private entrepreneur to hire other poor guys to clean the trains.

She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

Pontificus Maximus is satisfied.

I am inspired. I wrap myself up in a shawl. And I write.

Inflection Point

It is my last night in Dhaka. After two months of being here, I think I've stopped kicking and screaming (in my my mind), and accepted that this is a place I choose to work in. The traffic still sucks, but I know that now, and genuinely happy when I know the shortcuts. Being in a hotel all the time sucks, but its a choice I made, and its kinda nice (and not as creepy as it may seem) when the rickshaw guys offer to drop you off at your hotel. Yes its an expat lifestyle, but its paying off the student loans. Beyond the rationalization, I am doing some cool stuff. It was a call from my mother that helped provide the necessary perspective. "You know, you did good work in Bagar, but your work in Bangladesh will help so many more people". She believes in my work, she believes in me, the least I can do is try.

There continues to be this dichotomy between my personal and professional lives. The work I choose to do is meaningful, the lifestyle I accept to live is silly. And despite "knowing" what I need to change, somehow there is only so much energy I have to keep pushing and nudging the status quo.

But tonight I am compelled to write for other reasons. Tonight I think about tomorrow. Not just because its the last day, but its also when I will have to choose where my life will take me next (no, where I take my life next). Do I hold my promise to India and return, or stick it out in the US for a while? Do I stay with the potential of a corporation, or get back to the raw energy of grassroots work? Do I trade dollars for rupees? Do I trade in old friends for new ones? Do I leave the old family for a new one? Do I commit, or do I float?Do I choose lifestyle, or change?

Travellers call it a fork in the road. Engineers call it an inflection point. Regardless of the name, the choices I make in the next few hours will decide my trajectory for the next few years.

It's just as scary as it sounds.

En Vino Veritas

The title of this position, suitably catchy, is inspired by the fact that I just guzzled down 1 litre (that's a quart for the Americanos) of Sangria in about half an hour. And that's a good thing.

But appropriate quantities of that magical poison (aka alcohol) does help fire my synapses. And firing synapses lead to restless thoughts, that demand and command an outlet. Public broadcast seems to be the preferred medium. So here we are (no relation, just an awesome song).

The drinking today was inspired by tiredness, and a long night ahead of me. And realizing that even though I made the brave move of dropping a class (and taking a full load in my ultimate seven weeks of school, instead of an overfull load), I still crave for some free time. And while I sit here filling out documents and creating relationships and thinking of presenting matter and how I've grown and evolved, the aforementioned liquid courage reminds me of one simple truth, a realization (yes ubw, a realization, not an understanding):

The only lasting happiness comes from things I produce, not from things I consume

And so in this pursuit of happyness (quite unheroically I might add, I am not quite as pretentious as my ego would present me otherwise) I continue to think about giving birth to social venture funds, and creating social enterprises for Detroit, and thinking of how to negotiate salaries and jobs, and turning around enterprises, and creating medical devices, and lastly, but most importantly, sustaining relationships, both benign and malignant.

It feels good to list it out. A visual reminder that I'm (mostly) fighting the fights still worth fighting.

Ushering in change, from a place of love

Article by current Indicorps fellow, Vivake Prasad, currently at the Grassroots Development Laboratory (GDL) in Bagar, Rajasthan

http://getahead.rediff.com/report/2010/jan/28/career-indicorps-ellow-vevake-prasad-shares-his-experience.htm

Indicorps Fellow Vevake Prasad shares his experience of working in India [ Images ] on the Indicorps public service fellowship.

These days, it seems, more than a few of us are worked up over 'change'.

As the national debate continues to swing back and forth on every possible angle regarding change, we are relearning a lesson we probably already knew -- change is slow, and at best, difficult. Over the last few years, I too, have become infatuated with the idea of change. In search of change, I found my way to rural Rajasthan [ Images ], India, this past August for a year-long fellowship in service and development. I came with hopes of making an impact on rural unemployment, and in the process, making some inner changes as well. I've worked on both fronts at a furious pace with passion and dedication. The results, though, are yet to come in, and are likely to remain elusive during the duration of my fellowship.

If results manifest themselves, it'll probably be long after I've left. It's an incredibly exciting proposition on one hand, and an incredibly frustrating one on the other. For those of us in pursuit of change, it seems like we're doomed to a lifetime of frustration, unless we can find a way to deal with it.

So how do we sweat it out? How do we cope with the pace of change? It turns out that we don't have to. There is an alternative to coping with the pace of change, a surefire way to foster almost instantaneous change. It's not too good to be true, but it will require you to put away any skepticism and embrace it with an open mind.

In August of this year, before embarking for our project sites, me and the 26 other Indicorps Fellows met an incredible man named Jayeshbhai, the leader of a Gandhian NGO called Manav Sadhna in Ahmedabad [ Images ], India. During his talk, Jayeshbhai challenged us to follow the principle of always coming from a place of genuine love when interacting with others. It's easy to be skeptical or dismissive of cheesy maxims like this, but Jayeshbhai's absolute practice of the ideal makes you realise its power.

When he speaks to you, you become absolutely paralysed by the pure, unadulterated love in the air. You can't stop grinning from ear to ear. Inspired by Jayeshbhai, I decided to try and implement the principle in my daily life. Over time, however, I found myself failing miserably, with less-than-loving thoughts often getting the better of me. I became skeptical, thinking that "coming from a place of love" was a nice way to treat people, but impractical as a strategy in bringing about meaningful change.

A few weeks ago, I was in Ahmedabad again. While there, I participated in an activity in which we were to go out into the city and convince sellers at roadside stalls to quit using plastic bags. I didn't think that the men manning those stalls -- who are at times treated rudely, robbed, work hard but barely make enough money to scrape by -- would react warmly to a random outsider asking them to change how they run their business. It seemed like the perfect chance to test the idea and to redeem myself -- to give a really genuine try at having my head, heart, and hand (as Jayeshbhai says) aligned in the spirit of love, and to see what happens.

As I walked out onto Ashram Road, I tried to imagine the lives of the men I was about to approach. I tried to come from a place of understanding, remembering that if they responded guardedly, skeptically or negatively, there would be perfectly good reasons behind it. And so I went for it. I approached each man one by one, with humility, as if he was my older brother. I walked to each stall with a friendly smile, greeting the men respectfully, introducing myself and asking for their name. I insisted on standing if they asked me to sit, and I sat on the street below them if they were sitting. Most were stunned. One asked me, "Are you some kind of Gandhi?" I laughed at the ridiculousness of the question, and asked him if he knew the problems associated with plastic bags, explaining why I was there.

I asked the men if they would accept my pyaar bhari tofa (love filled gift) of a few bags I had made out of newspaper, and hand them out to customers instead of plastic bags. I told them it would mean the world to me, and I meant it. Every single person I spoke to pledged to no longer hand out plastic bags unless a customer demanded one, and agreed to use the newspaper. A few of the men even invited me to their homes for dinner.

More than anything that day, I feel as though I made friends. Two hours later, a colleague of mine was walking down the same street, and overheard some of the men I had spoken to calmly explaining to customers why they wouldn't hand out plastic bags anymore.

This was change.

If you're fed up with the pace of change -- here's your chance to challenge it. It's not easy, but all you have to do is wholeheartedly come from a place of love in your interactions with others. You might be skeptical today, but if you try it tomorrow, you might just become a change-maker forever.

Born and raised in New Jersey, Vevake recently graduated from Carnegie Mellon University with a double major in Policy & Management and Political Science. He is now fulfilling long-held dreams to spend time in India doing service and development related work and becoming a cricketer.

Vevake Prasad

What are you willing to do to fail?

A key life lesson that I learned during my two years in Indicorps was that of how to fail in life. More precisely, on how to fail, and how to get right back up.

This learning was cemented during our final workshop in Indicorps, where we serendipitously had a session based on JK Rowling's Harvard Commencement address entitled 'The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination'. If I hadn't realized it earlier (its really hard to think about the joys of failure while you are actually failing), this address definitely drilled it home.

Today, I came across an article on Ashoka's Tech blog entitled 'When is failure just an answer to a different question?' It takes a different take on failure - about how we're NOT really wired to "recognize good things in unexpected results", based on research on failures in scientific research.

It also lays out key lessons on How To Learn From Failure:

1. Check your assumptions. Ask yourself why this result feels like a failure. What theory does it contradict? Maybe the hypothesis failed, not the experiment.
2. Seek out the ignorant. Talk to people who are unfamiliar with your experiment. Explaining your work in simple terms may help you see it in a new light.
3. Encourage diversity. If everyone working on a problem speaks the same language, then everyone has the same set of assumptions.
4. Beware of failure-blindness. It’s normal to filter out information that contradicts our preconceptions. The only way to avoid that bias is to be aware of it."

One thing I would add to the start of the list: (0.)Recognize, accept and cope with failure. Failing is an emotional stressful time, and you need to step out of self-doubt and stay positive. I know that during my two years (and multiple failures), I wouldn't have kept going without the support of Preeti and Radhika. So yah, find people to help support you through the failure. You WILL get by with a little help from your friends. And then hopefully you'll learn a lot.

There is one obvious question that presents itself, and which Roopal, the executive director of Indicorps, put very well during that session at our closing workshop. If failure is so great, then are we actively trying to put ourselves in situations where we're more likely to fail? It's a tough question, and a tougher thing to do. Good management practices teach us to plan ahead and choose the path of most probable success. To identify risks and how we will mitigate them. To keep our goals SMART (R for realistic).

Life has taught me to learn from failure, and that its a good thing. However, I don't know if I have ever proactively tried to fail - we thought every one of those 20 odd ventures we started would succeed.

Your thoughts?

Not Home, Alone

There’s just so much to write.

To provide the context – in the most densely populated city in the world in the most densely populated country in the world, today I feel very alone.

And I am very conscious of the fact that this is by my choice. I chose to come out here and work part time. Trying to support training of paraprofessionals to deliver healthcare in remote areas where it simply wasn’t available before.

Sure, professionally it’s very satisfying. Its been actually a fantastic year in that regards. Forget about year, its been a fantastic week professionally. More on this later (I sense a Practice Gratitude post coming up).

What’s lacking, and what I realized at the soul shaking indicorps reunion, was that while Indicorps has permanently and profusely (much to the dismay of my parents probably) completely changed the professional track, I have not let the process, the spirit of seva, the zest of the Indicorps community, seep into my personal life.

Because if anything those two years in India have done is make me tough. And taught me to not look at life as a series of ups and downs, but rather a series of points of inflection. I’d like to think that this is one such point, because it begets choice. I get to choose where I go from here. Up or down or the same trajectory. And if next year is anything like this year, it still won’t be a bad thing J

This is the start of the ruminations. More to come

LGT Venture Philanthrophy - iCATS fellowship

iCats Program

LGT Venture Philanthropy is proud to announce the launch of the iCats Program: The iCats Program is an answer to the need for professional know-how and resources in many philanthropic organizations and social enterprises. LGT Venture Philanthropy created a web-based platform to match experienced professionals with specific positions in selected philanthropic organizations.

The fellow positions for 2010 are now online on www.icatsprogram.com ! Application deadline is 26^th October 2009.

A fellow works 11 months on-site with a portfolio organization from February to December 2010 and receives regular mentoring from the LGT Venture Philanthropy team. In addition, a 4-day induction workshop brings all fellows together in the Swiss mountains. Go to www.icatsprogram.com to find out more and to apply.

More here:

• iCats program factsheet
• iCats program Article